I spent the majority of the last couple of days listening to ART-SCHOOL and reading translated interviews. It’s been an urge I haven’t had in a long time, and I think that has spiraled because the translation function isn’t as shit as it used to be. Ten plus years or so. It’s been a nice obsession. Nostalgic, makes me giddy with the feeling of discovering little truths previously foreign to me. One of my greatest aspirations is to not be so inept at Japanese. Until then.
My favorite ‘era’ of ART-SCHOOL is the time around the release of BABY ACID BABY and The Alchemist. Beyond the melodies, and as much of the subject matter that I’ve come to understand, those two albums (amongst others) stand out as examples of sound and integrity that I would want my own body of work to posess. I try to internalize the atmosphere whenever I can, so that I never forget. Now, to have the patience and discipline to dedicate the appropriate amount of time to completing such a body of work. That is for the far future.
I’ve been thinking about renting a ten by ten temperature controlled storage unit to use as a practice room. A rug, a couch, my drumset. I am presently without an ideal space to really practice or rehearse and this is the solution I have come up with. Not sure if that is allowed in the terms and conditions, but if not, I can just move out and move on to the next idea. There was a jam space in Gadsden where my friend’s band rented an RV storage unit as a practive space. As did others, from the other, distant drum sounds I heard in the storage park. I’ll take a page from them. Try to, at least.
I have such a profound and transformational love for the band ART-SCHOOL. I’ve always aspired to level of palpable sincerity that they have. And I really do feel it. It was what jarred me when I first discovered them on Youtube. I ripped each piecemeal video of their Sleep Flower’s DVD from the internet without even knowing the name of the band. I watched for hours, on repeat, without ever knowing who it was playing. The crescendo that was the chorus of Waltz brought, and will always bring me to tears. I can’t ever forget the taste, nor the smell of that particular moment in time. It is a deep and profound love, and I truly don’t know who I’d be as a muscian, artist, human, or person if that moment had evaded me in life.
The Pillows were very much the same, though greater. I was a block of marble before I came across the Pillows. I will always say that I don’t think I was ever truly awake before I heard the Pillows’ Hybrid Rainbow for the first time. I owe much of who I became as a person to the Pillows making music for the world, and in ways that I haven’t fully been able to compile into words meaningful enough to convey the magnitude. Maybe one day I’ll sit back and actually try, but I like the vague shapelessness of the feelings I have. The sense of gratitude that I have for the creation, being created, and being in position.
One might call it an alignment.