Pownce on David Leo on Pownce“What’s up man, thanks for coming out to the show! I’m John, I’m the singer and bassist, that’s Tom, he’s the guitarist, and that’s Dave, he’s the drummer. We’re like a mix of metalcore, death metal, and hardcore, except with really technical parts and some melodic singing. Some people say we sound like Killswitch Engage meets Lamb of God meets Chiodos with a little Atreyu thrown in. We’re a (more…)
To some, the legendary psychologist Sigmund Freud was a revolutionary genius who drastically altered the field of psychology entirely for the better. To others, he was just a weird guy who rode the ol’ White Pony way too often and thought that everything everyone does has to do entirely with sex. (more…)
So my buddy in a band called (adjective) (food spelled wrong) sent me an email through (social networking site) about how he wanted my band to play a show with them at a venue called The (adjective) (drinking utensil). I never heard of any of the other bands on the show. Their names were: (season) (noun), (obscure trigonometry term), (farm animal) (male genital organ), and (day of the week) (emotion). I figured that it would be a great opportunity to play for new faces. After confirming the time and date with my band, I told my buddy we could definitely play the show.
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It’s a common occurrence, really. Always happens in a way similar to this:
I’m playing a show on a random night of the week. I strike up a conversation with one of the five people there before the show. I ask him what band he’s here for and he tells me he’s actually in one of the bands. Duh, no one hangs out at a bar an hour before the show starts unless they’re in one of the bands, (more…)
Good Reason: Wife of 20 years suddenly left after admitting to a 5-year affair
Bad Reason: Girlfriend of two and a half weeks broke up via text message
Good Reason: Recent death in the family
Bad Reason: Recent death of your World of Warcraft character
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So on a day off I’m sitting at my computer in my boxers with a bowl of Honey Bunches of Oats and my morning hard-on finally starting to settle down, when I realize I’m now clicking into page #35 of my MySpace bulletins and STILL haven’t found anything resembling something useful. Oh sure, I saw a few chuckle-worthy videos, saw some of my friends’ pictures from some big party that apparently happened while I was sitting in this exact same spot the night before, and heard a new song from a band halfway across the world that I never liked anyway, but overall it’s been a complete waste of time. There are definitely times when all this digging pays off; for example, I’ve gotten onto a couple shows before by replying to “we’re trying to get a show together” bulletins. But really, the only thing I’ve gotten accomplished at this point is getting a little food in my stomach, taking a shit, and finding out that this random chick in Nebraska’s “stripper name” is Kandee First. LOL? (more…)
What’s great about being a musician who plays shows all the time is, well, playing shows all the time. What sucks about being a musician who plays show all the time is… playing shows all the time.
“What, Jason? I’d love to play shows all the time! How could it possibly suck in any way at all?”
Well, I will answer your question, Hypothetical Person Who Is Reading This Article. (more…)
Ahhh…
That smoky little dive bar that no one ever knows exists until they’re actually inside it. If you had the chance, you’d go to it any free night of the week, whether you were playing there or not. It’s that place where you not only automatically see someone you know every time you go in, but you’re greeted by them at the door, and by a handshake from the door guy. On stage you can make fun of the sound guy endlessly, but he’ll laugh and still give you great sound (more…)
Wedge your head into your ass
Make the grand novelty last
Spin the records, play the tapes
Then break them over your bloated face
Keeping your secretary on her knees under your desk
Have your cake and eat it too
And take the bigger half
And keep one foot inside your grave
I’ll write your epitaph
Your “next big thing” will be reduced to a shit stain
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So I’m chillin’ at my favorite little dive bar on All Ages Night, keeping my friend The Sound Guy company while the entire place gets bombarded with unoriginal breakdowns, cliché song structures, tuneless attempts at singing, and badly-done Cookie Monster vocals that sound more like a prepubescent Chris Barnes after getting his tonsils taken out than anything resembling something “brutal.” This is the kind of show where the majority of the people there could care less about the local music scene and are only there because they’re: A. a girl who’s banging one of the members of one of the bands, B. a friend of the band who is trying to bang said girl, or C. the parents of one of the band members, who are all-too-familiar with how absolutely god-awful the band’s music is (after all, the parents let the band practice in the garage) so they just sit at the bar ordering stiff drink after stiff drink hoping they’ll black out before the band goes on. (more…)
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