Replacements for an Identity

There are a couple moments with my therapist that led to me writing this blogpost. 

Dating back to the first week of March, our sessions took a whole new direction we've been riding with ever since: Developing a sense of identity. There are a lot of loaded questions that come with a topic like this. But interestingly enough, there's a question in this ballpark that I've had an immediate answer to for years. What band reminds me the most of myself? The Replacements.

My therapist threw out an interesting statement in our last visit. It felt emphatic in the moment, then it escaped me, and now it's coming back to me. They mentioned that some of the most impactful moments in our lives are times when we felt understood. I've been trying to recall times where I actually felt that, among friends or whoever. It's hard to pinpoint lasting moments where I felt this sensation after talking to someone. But I know there have been times where I felt deeply understood by some guy yelling at me in my headphones. Again, I'm talking about The Replacements.

It's both puzzling and comical to think that I feel connection with these guys I've never had anything in common with. Angsty, rebellious, alcoholic punks. There's something at the heart of their lyrics that I've kept in my heart like it's Moses's 11th Commandment: Self-Loathing.

If I were to list of my 20 favorite bands, you would see self-loathing is a common theme between most all of them. I've just always loved the character that Paul Westerberg presents. I referred to him as "angsty" earlier.  But I think the proper word for him, and the undying emotional state I share with him, is "frustrated." Sure it's depressing, but it's also passionate. Classic rock taught us that rock singers should be wailing about drugged-up sex with crazy groupies and stuff like that. I want to hear someone yell about feeling too messed up and worn out for the world they see in front of them. Paul is a guy who could convince you to share a beer with him, but warns you that it's not worth becoming too attached. And yeah. Dang. I've seen myself this way as far back as I can remember.

I had a Pandora station for Pavement when I was 18. Every band it threw at me had me like, "This is what music is supposed to sound like!!!" This is where I listened to The Replacements for my first time. 

I remember "Can't Hardly Wait" instantly became an anthem for me. I always thought of it as this ratty young man who's unsure of himself wanting to make a change. With only a handful of words sung within 3 minutes, he depicts scenery involving anxiety, love letters, heaven, and ashtrays. "Jesus rides beside me. He never buys any smokes." That's genius. And of course, the simple play on words with "I CAN'T hardly wait." Sounds like something a teenager would mumble as they roll their at their parents. The energy of this song tells me this is an inspired person who wants to start making changes. But he wants to make sure we know that he's not excited about the process. That's often how I feel about my own life.

This might sound like a perfect band for guys in high school or college. Then why does all this stuff still feel applicable to me at age 33? Trying to navigate towards signs of self-discovery through the tarpits of your own self-loathing. I've never been under the impression that there's any true "destination" in journeys like this. We're always developing as people. But I'm still seemingly stuck in some developmental stage that most people go through in their adolescence. I've felt less willing to work and more agitated toward my peers over these last few years than I ever did as a teenager. Maybe I just need a band who'll invited me to "hang side by side" with them as we're punished for our crimes of human inadequacy. Or maybe listen to a dude continuously yell "I'M SO UNSATISFIED" for like 4 minutes. 

A band can't be an identity. And hating yourself doesn't count as an identity. But it can at least be a replacement for one. 

Real Life / Summer

We have reached the halfway point of 2024. 

Over the last few months, I've been trying to work up some deep personal commentary to share with friends in my social media world. Approaching midnight into June 30, this is as close as it's gonna get. It might even be short. 

My springtime entered with a wake-up call that had me reeling over all my accumulated life choices and confusing experiences. It's true that I've been unrecognizable to my own self for most of my adult life. And while no overanalysis of my past could ever be enough for me to grasp an understanding of who I really am, I can only move forward from where I am right now anyways. Which has been harder for me to accept with each passing year.

Particularly as spring has turned to summer, my memories are torn between my favorite nights filled with my favorite friends and the ultimate experiences I desired but was never convinced could ever actually happen. And now a man at age 33, what hurts me most is that the story can never be the same. Whatever I wanted it to be, it's over. It seems possible to move forward, but it can never look the same as I desired it to be at age 18 or 25 or whatnot. 

It's hard to see any pathways toward developing a testimony of any vital characteristic principles like love and work. It's hard to actually accept and view my life from where I am without the helpless yearning to go back. But it didn't use to be so hard. It used to be impossible. 

Walk in the park/Used to be

A simple hobby I've kept over the years has been causing an internal stir lately. 

Walking.

I'll try not to over-explain how I've grown a strong attachment to the most basic-ass form of exercise in human history. A lot of my favorite hobbies throughout my adulthood have just been different forms of moving my legs outside. Soccer, biking, hiking, running, walking. Sure, stuff like this is good for your health across the board. Although there have been times where my long walks have been fueled by a dose of paranoid anxiety. Usually I just do it because it's nice to be out and about in these dinky provincial neighborhoods. I used to do it a lot because I didn't have a car. These days, there's something else driving me. Sensory memory.

I'm convinced that the amount of mental time I spend in my past is both something that holds me back from living in the moment, but also something that's kept me alive. I don't think people understand that. Depression keeps hope out of your imagination. And perhaps getting at least a hint of reminiscent joy in a moment of your current life is a reason to keep living. It's a cool and healthy thought that golden eras in our lives can reshape into something else with each life change as we get older. It's a sad and realistic thought that much of the love we felt in times past escaped from us through the same means, yet that void remains unfilled. Because of this, I see no shame in walking down memory lane.

Walking has hit me differently over the last 3 months. I came across this brief bout of crisis when I was told my team at work was getting dissolved and we all needed to find new positions. While I've had this issue solved for a few weeks now, it was a moment that had me thinking about things I haven't thought about in years. The future. My future. Not like I've ever been some guy who just relishes in momentary impulses too much to ever think about future life choices. Quite the opposite. When it comes to life choices, I usually just freeze. I freeze out of confusion, in attempts to make sense of my past. And if I ever do make a choice, it's an uninspired step made out of confusion about what I'd actually like to do. 

Now... You can bet your boots that the new job I took a few weeks back was exactly that type of life choice. It's too safe to regret. Where the true regret lies for me is just how often I find myself doing shit like this. It's not like I'm doing nothing with my life. But it sure as heck feels like it. 

Anyways... When I got hit with the news 3 months back, I remember the first thing I did after work that day. I went for a walk on Canyon Rd. There's no other street in town where I've spent more time running. But for now, I wanted to walk. And think. I thought about death. I questioned why I've spent so much of my adult life in this dumb town. I felt nostalgic for my favorite college days. Perhaps even a couple of my teen years. The sensory rush of memories from these distant little eras of my life where I wasn't depressed out of my mind; it was hitting me stronger than ever. I would go on to walk down Canyon Rd multiple times per week for a couple months. I've since been walking in other areas, yet each walk still gives me a kick of nostalgia. Whether it's deep and introspective or lighthearted and refreshing, it's usually the best part of my day. 

As for thinking about the future, I've had some lingering issues I've always been aware of that have suddenly risen to the top of my conscience. For a lot of us adults with mental health struggles, we're actually very aware of what our problems are. But never knowing what to prioritize keeps us in stasis. A personal issue that's been brought to light to me is just how much the way I view my future is related to how I view myself. And on my recent walks where I've reflected back on times where I seemingly better knew myself, things are starting to click. And as exciting as that may sound to you guys... I've found it pretty darn discomforting. 

A quote from Jason Molina crosses my mind a lot lately. 
It didn't use to be so hard. It used to be impossible.

I always assumed this lyric referred to Molina's fight with alcoholism. Despite the fact that this man's excessive alcohol intake was ultimately the catalyst to his death, I prefer hearing insights from people like this than whatever asshole advice I come across from former friends on social media. This idea that it's easier to give up than it is to try... There's some truth to that. Yet far from the whole story. 

It's crazy to me that people disregard how much hard work goes into developing a fully-engrained belief in self-hopelessness. It's not just some sinful habit of sloth. Over time, people like me and Molina conclude that this belief is both logically and morally true. Even without a drop of alcohol in my system, and despite whatever relatively proactive stuff I've done as an adult, this belief has always been at the heart of it all. It's what keeps me feeling distant from myself and seeing no point in shaping my own future. Giving up on yourself is not easy. Staying in that mindset is easy, in that your decision-making is based around avoiding things seen as impossibilities. These might even be things you see other people do every day. Attempting to get out of this hole is difficult, as trying to change your strongest beliefs always is. But to top it off, most of the dirty work can only be done on your own.

It's now been more than a few years where things have felt impossible for me. But I guess I'm glad to be entering a stage where things are hard.

So, yeah. Walking. 

I find it embarrassing to admit that going for walks has been the highlight of my recent life. But I mean, it sends me to a better place, and people probably don't have to understand that. I can't deny which eras of my past were my favorites. And while I've always known these golden days were never perfect, there's kind of a stronger ache and clearer realization of what self-negative tendencies flowed into my voided days to come. But you know, somehow--if this makes sense--seeing things this way actually makes the all the good stuff from back then feel more within reach. Ya know? All these emotionally healthy and harmful things have always existed within me, in differing proportions. I'm starting to entertain the idea that while my life can never be the same again, my life can maybe feel okay again.

It's summer now. I've been wanting to write super long blogposts about my favorite summers from years past. Friends, stories, music, etc. But perhaps I'll leave it to you guys to guess what my summers were like. I have no time to discuss every detail of all the time I spent on cruise ships, every romantic endeavor I had with my loaded history of girlfriends, or every job I had that opened my eyes to potential future career opportunities. Because none of those things ever happened.

Thank you for reading.

You should go for a walk or something.

Mandatory New Year Crap

It's difficult for me to write a detailed personal blog post these days. Why is that?

I've been really freaking depressed for years.

I could sincerely just stop writing there and say I spoke the truth. But note how I ended that sentence with the words "for years." And we are now at the start of a new year. So perhaps this post will be more about what happens in years. The simple answer to this would be "life." Life is what happens every year. But some years are built different than others.

2023 Recap

So what do you want to hear about my 2023? I don't really know what information about my life people would care to hear. Which makes it hard to keep up a conversation. Like, every conversation ends when the other person asks me about my life. I suddenly realize I have nothing to say. Nothing particularly interesting, nothing I'm proud to admit, no hopeful news in my future. 2023 was my 7th consecutive year feeling this way; all 7 years since graduating college. Today, I talk about whatever the heck I want.

I have a hard time thinking about 2023 without the very first thing coming to mind being my going off psychiatric medication. I've been off meds since the last week of June. I've only told this to like 5 people. But it's always the first thing on my mind. Not going to my first music festival, not moving to Smithfield, not the big family vacations to the Florida coast or the Grand Tetons, not all 3 of my remaining grandparents dying within 9 months of each other, not doing a 10-mile run for my first time in years, not seeing my favorite band Wilco play live, not the couple of small music gigs I played, not buying a new used car with monthly payments for my first time ever, not all the hiking trails I checked out, not my makeshift trip to Idaho with a friend from Taiwan. The end of meds was the end of an era for me. 

"It's the end of an era, it's true."

While I had randomly assorted brief bouts with medication throughout my adulthood, this run was huge for me. April 2018 - June 2023. I still have very fond memories from October 2018 - October 2019. I was feeling physiologically more like myself than I had in a decade, and I owe it all to my meds at that time. But that magic eventually ran out with my own life changes, and I've since felt particularly hopeless for these last 4 years. 

My last few months newly off meds technically have not changed my life or behaviors at all. I'm still very much depressed on a daily basis. But my emotions no longer feel like a "life or death" circumstance. I feel them, they eventually pass, and they eventually come back. And the flow of emotions isn't as confusing to me; whereas meds often influenced good or bad emotions to arise out of nowhere. This is all interesting to me, although perhaps not something to talk about with someone you just met.

I Go Back

While I've long been guilty of overanalyzing my past, I'm kinda going through a bittersweet phase of introspection right now. I'm starting to emotionally recollect the times of my life I had once tried to erase. 

Country singer Kenny Chesney released this rather classic song when I was a teenager. A song I never revisit, but often consider its chorus: "Every time I hear that song, I go back!" There are lots of songs that can take me back to specific beautiful memories. And of course, songs I tend to avoid, because I don't wanna go back (if you know what I mean). 

Songs aside, I can look back at past behaviors and find myself cringing all the way. Some very distant memories, some very recent memories. How recent? Well, I've realized that I even dismiss my current behaviors in life. I assume I'll eventually "learn" to shrug them aside and change for good. That I'll return to my real self and my current life will one day just be another regrettable memory. 

That's not how it works. 

However, returning to my distant negative memories has helped me realize how connected all sides of me have always been, and always will be. Perhaps a lot of the dread I feel at the workplace is reminiscent of experiences I had as an LDS missionary; or real talk, even stuff dating back to struggles in elementary school. While I admit there are eras in my life--all garnered from my distant past--where I can say I found my truest self, those days are all connected to even my ugliest years. 

I've wondered for awhile if I've thought too much about my past in order to move forward. Yet I'm pretty sure it's natural to be drawn to good memories. My much bigger issue is not accepting the whole of my past. And therefor, eventually becoming unable to accept my present. 

2024 

Earlier in this blog, I wrote that "life" is what happens every year. "Life" as a word I've come to use more poetically than literally. Especially with the modern uptick of people employed as life coaches, I don't think I'm the only one with a loose definition of "life." Literally, I've been living for 33 years. Technically, I've spent a lot of time existing as deadweight. 

Perhaps the truest form of living life means you're living in the moment. I have not been doing this. I would see this as some kind of "hard to swallow" life lesson and I just need to buck up live my life right. But in my defense, living in the moment has been extremely hard for me for my entire adulthood. And any of the people reading this who think I can just flip that switch from 0 to 100, it's like, cool. Have fun believing that.

Like I mentioned in my last section, I'm kinda going through a bittersweet process of self-acceptance. I'm trying not to hate my most personally hate-able qualities. And I'm realizing those add up to make a really long list. This process probably doesn't have an end. But I really freaking hope that practicing self-acceptance leads to living in more moments. Cuz this stuff is hard.

I'm often scared to live in the moment because that means I'd give off more expressive behavior. I associate that with my clinical anxiety. Behavioral things I've increasingly tried to hide out of shame, leading to cumulating years of clinical depression. It's bittersweet (again, I know)... But this thing I'm scared of is probably my biggest goal for 2024.

That's it. That's the blog post.

25 Favo/Best Albums of 2023

Hey there folks. Here's a list of my 25 favorite (and therefor the best) albums of 2023. 

I've been making these lists on this blog since 2013. I recently claimed that this will be last year-end albums list. I stand by that. I absolutely want to keep making music lists. And I want to keep up with new releases. But it's come to mess up the comfortable view of music I used to have. 

See, I listened to 80 new albums in 2023. But also, this year, I revisited zero (0) albums from 2022. It's just hard for anything new to stick with me. Maybe it's because new music sucks, but I think it has to do with me thinking too critically to feel any momentary inspiration or enjoyment. 

That being said, I'm not sure about the shelf-life of the bottom half of this list. But the stuff towards the top is stellar. Some of my favorite albums of this decade. 

As usual from me, here are a few honorable mentions...

- Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit Weathervanes

- Noname Sundial

- Matana Roberts Coin Coin Chapter Five: In the garden...

And here's the actual list...

This first section is kind of a shitstorm of bands I have a love/hate relationship with. Very flawed music. Some of it too ironic for its own good. But I choose to applaud them for that. Pretty much interchangeable rankings.

25 100 gecs 10,000 gecs

24 MSPAINT Post-American

23 Home Is Where the whaler

22 shame Food for Worms

21 Model/Actriz Dogsbody

20 Hotline TNT Cartwheel

This section is much more tasteful. I have my bones to pick here, but solid listens compared to the competition. Also interchangeable rankings.

19 Kali Uchis Red Moon In Venus 

18 McKinley Dixon Beloved! Paradise! Jazz?!

17 Yves Tumor Praise A Lord Who Chews But Which Does Not Consume; (Or Simply, Hot Between Worlds)

16 Amaarae Fountain Baby

15 ANOHNI and the Johnsons My Back Was A Bridge For You To Cross

14 Mitski The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We

13 Gia Margaret Romantic Piano

Another interchangeable section, only these are albums I think could make my top 10 any given year. They're awesome. And I could write very long reviews of each of these.

12 Lana Del Rey Did you know that there's a tunnel under Ocean Blvd

11 Joanna Sternberg I've Got Me

10 Jeff Rosenstock HELLMODE

9 Wiki & Tony Seltzer 14k Figaro

8 Liturgy 93696

I think very highly of this top 7. I honestly have had a hard time connecting with new music in the 2020's. But all of these really scratched my itch. Excellent production quality, unique songwriting... I see myself coming back to this stuff in years to come. Here's another interchangeable section before we get to the very very top.

7 billy woods & Kenny Segal Maps

6 Parannoul After the Magic

5 Caroline Polachek Desire, I Want To Turn Into You

4 Armand Hammer We Buy Diabetic Test Strips

In my heart, I don't really know what my album of the year is. But it's one of these three. So yes, even my top 3 is interchangeable. But it's the strongest, most exciting top 3 I've listened to in years. 

3 Lonnie Holley Oh Me Oh My

2 Kara Jackson Why Does the Earth Give Us People to Love?

1 Sufjan Stevens Javelin

Blogging After College Has Sucked

I've enjoyed blogging for over 10 years now. But I gotta admit. There were times when I enjoyed it much more. Certain semesters of college. I would often get a ton of views and feedback, too. For the majority of my time since graduating college in December 2016, I don't think I've written much worth reading. I still write a lot, but it's usually a trudge of a read. There are reasonable reasons for this.

For starters... Nothing is happening. College was a fun little package of time where my social situations would change every 4 months. I think of that time in terms of summers and semesters. Since graduating, I've spent most of my time just working a full-time job and doing stuff by myself. Nothing new to report. I miss writing about my life and mental health with this unique anxious energy about my present and future.

Then there's music. I used to write about music passionately. I can't do that anymore. Why not? I feel like I maybe know too much now. Particularly after 2021, where I spent the whole year listening to albums I've never tried before on a daily basis. I can write extremely long pieces about music I love, but nothing hits me like it used to. Miss hearing an album for my first time and obsessing over it. Buying CD's and saving music on mp3 player, long before downloading everything on my premium subscription to the Spotify app on my phone. I now listen to more music than ever. But the thrill is gone.

I think the biggest hit on how I feel about writing was when I started taking psychiatric medication.

This started a few months into 2018. Whether it's been through blogging or social media or real life, I feel like I've spent a ton of the last 5 years just complaining about my life and how I feel. Looking back at how much I've done this (especially over social media), it's honestly embarrassing. And yet, it's not like I was lying. It's just like... Dang. I felt 10 times less mature as a 30 year-old than I ever did in my 20's. Just so many behavioral changes and contradictory emotional experiences. I promise I'm going somewhere with this...

I distinctly remember a couple antipsychotics I took over the span of 1 year that actually made me feel desirably better. Late 2018 through late 2019. I've been on a bunch of pills since then. Some underwhelming, some straight-up bad. I can't go back to those antipsychotics because I was honestly sleeping too much. But I've reached the point where I wonder if I should just go off medication. Unless I come across something that can have powerful positive effects and not also overpower me with sketchy side effects. I'm currently on 1 medication, so you could say I'm almost out. But there is 1 thing I'm afraid of, that I also kinda miss. 

Ever since I've been on medication, I haven't felt this anxious tension in my stomach. I felt it constantly since I was like 19, all the way until I was a few months into age 27. During that whole time, I wanted that to go away, and it did. But dang, I've definitely switched from being used to daily anxiety to being used to feeling critically depressed. Going back to the 2nd paragraph here where I talk about "anxious energy" and stuff, I miss that feeling. Yet I'm also afraid to go back to it. 

I mean, I look at the numbers, and my recent years with medication have been harder to look back on than my years without. There are a few exceptions; some periods of my adult years where the anxiety was too high. But dang, the 3+ years since going off those antipsychotics have mostly been super depressing. Plenty of distress and dread. I guess I'm willing to try different meds, but I don't feel bad about setting a high bar for how well I expect them to work.

Perhaps it's all about that 2nd paragraph here, where blogging used to be more exciting simply because I was younger and life was just more exciting. I could make music lists all day, although I find that very self-serving. But whether I have more exciting life updates to write about, or some music takes that people want to hear... Could I at least get more excited about this stuff? Excited about anything?

Kilby Block Party Review

I went to my first concert festival last weekend and I'm here to review it. I'll be talking about the 10 bands I saw and 1 particular band I didn't see. This will be split into 5 sections.

i. INTRO

I don't want to talk to much about the festival experience because it was kinda predictably inconvenient. Just a ton of sweaty young adults smokin' and drinkin'. Super crowded. Overpriced food. Porter potties. The works. I went by myself, which wasn't as awkward as I thought it would be. I either just kept to myself or talk to strangers about music. And the kicker here... For someone who loves music so much, I've never been too big into the concert life. Why did I go to this music festival? 

I live in Logan UT. Kilby Block Party takes place in Salt Lake City UT. I could drive to this place. I saw the lineup this year and knew I had to go. A solid list of artists that I've been a big fan of over the last 10 years, some as far back as my rose-tinted high school days. 

The band I wanted to see most was Pavement. From my hometown of Stockton CA, they broke up in 1999 and essentially only tour once every 10 years. Mostly due to the time of my life I was getting into their music, I can honestly call them one of my top 5 favorite bands of all time. They were the closer on the final night. And I didn't get to see them. 

I complained about this on the internet and I'll get to the full story later. But honestly--for a lot of my friends who are into alternative rock or indie or whatever--if they knew which bands I did see, they wouldn't feel bad for me at all. Sure, Pavement was my personal favorite band in this lineup. But the rest of the weekend was pretty freaking solid.

ii. FRIDAY

Deerhoof -- I guess I could have showed up every day in the morning and saw a million bands. But being honest with myself, all the bands I wanted to see were the bigger names in the afternoon. And spending 3 entire days on my feet by myself sounds miserable. But straight up, I wanted to see Deerhoof. I've heard 4 of their albums before, although I was worried I wouldn't recognize individual contorted rock songs. I kinda didn't, which was ok, because they freaking killed it. Their drummer (Greg Saunier) was easily my pick for best drummer of the weekend. And they at least busted out "This Magnificent Bird Will Rise" just to appease me.

Japanese Breakfast -- I missed most of this show and there were clearly bigger fans there. I do remember her (Michelle Zauner) saying that Kilby Block Party had "the best lineup of all the festivals." And I actually agree. I know established festivals like Coachella get much bigger names and much bigger crowds. But I think Kilby was made for folks like within in a specific circle of music media. I really felt like I was getting more bang for my buck this weekend. Which is why I usually like smaller indie shows. I'm even intimidated to see a band as big as Wilco. But anyways... She wrapped up, and I immediately pressed forward for a good standing spot to see Yeah Yeah Yeahs.

Yeah Yeah Yeahs -- I've never been through a life-changing YYY's phase, but I knew they would kick ass live, which they did. Karen O is a commanding stage presence who just wants to dress pretty and rock out. And they know how to have fun. As they started playing "Zero," they released giant beach balls that looked like eyeballs. Which yes, I did get in on that action. But I didn't get into all the action from this show. Before the band showed up, I watched this chick next to me very casually snort a spoonful of cocaine. No, I had never seen that before. She ended up just dancing to herself the whole show, which is what I did, so what the hey. I found the drunk people much more annoying. Anyways, I forgot YYY's released a new album nobody liked last year, which dragged the show a bit. But they luckily played the hits. Predictably closed with "Maps" and "Heads Will Roll," although they surprised me with Fever To Tell banger "Date With The Night" for the encore. This included Karen O sliding her microphone down her jumpsuit and playing around with it like she had a dick, which I can only assume is a stage move she's been doing for over 20 years.

 

iii. SATURDAY

Caroline Polachek -- So the new Caroline album sits as my current pick for album of the year. Of course I had to see her. I met up with a buddy of mine from Logan that afternoon. He came to see different bands, but we at least I got him to see Caroline with me. Some quotes from him on the show: "This woman has a beautiful voice." "This woman is beautiful." He's right. It was cool seeing her perform her new album in almost its entirety, although it reminded me why I usually don't see pop acts live. You get the vocal gymnastics with some appropriately loud synthesizers in the background. Just hard to recreate a studio experience in a concert setting. Still kept me drawn in though. Beautiful songs.

Weyes Blood -- This is a tough one for me to explain. I've listened to her (Natalie Mering) 2019 album Titanic Rising a million times and have a spiritually personal relationship with it. Yet they gave her a super small stage for some reason. There weren't a lot of people there and folks kept leaving early. As for me, even though I like her newest release, it was hard for me to stay interested in these renditions of its songs. That is, except "God Turn Me Into A Flower," which suddenly turned the show into holistic experience. I awkwardly wandered between stages as her set was wrapping up, but I wandered back in awe as she closed with "Movies," which again, turned the show from something disjointed to holistic like a light-switch. I will give her the award for best stage banter though. I'm convinced that AI and astrology are equally fake answers to life's questions.

Run The Jewels -- Listen man... This was the only big ticket rap act the festival had. And it was just what the doctor ordered. I've been a fan of this duo since their debut album in 2013, and in fact love all 4 of their albums. I had a terrible spot in the back of the crowd, but that did not stop me from yelling a bunch of NSFW lyrics and dancing my pants off. Killer Mike opened things up with "SALT LAKE CITY! I FEEL LIKE JOHN STOCKTON UP IN THIS MUTHAFUKKA!" He later gave a heartfelt speech in honor of Mother's Day. These guys are a special breed. I had to take a moment to admire that I was watching 2 rap legends who've been at it since the 90s. Yet their careers are now stronger than ever, and for this show, it was just all about giving the RTJ fans what they wanted. And I was totally fine with that. 

The Strokes -- The Strokes was the biggest show of the weekend (at least specifically for the Utah crowd) and I was sad that I was gonna be miles away from the stage. So many people came just to see this band. But that even included a group of friends I had back from my last summer working at Redfish Lake. I bumped into them and they let me join their crew for The Strokes. So many freaking people. The stage really looked like it was miles away. But you know what. I got into this band when I was in high school and I was kinda loving it. I've heard their first two albums hundreds of times over the years. And they realllly stuck with that material. Honestly played the majority of Is This It. Sung along with every word. I said I'd leave a little early, but I didn't know they would close with "Someday," so I found myself dancing with strangers as I made my way outside the crowd. Like the rest of the weekend, it was kinda awkard, but definitely memorable. Also like this photo I took of a couple I just met that night.

iv. SUNDAY

Duster -- I showed up tired on Sunday afternoon, and hoo boy, this act didn't help. I do like Duster and I made a point of seeing them. But I spent a lot of it looking for a place to sit. And even sitting didn't feel comfortable. Someone near me described their sound as "just background music to get high to." Technically every band that played this weekend took that title for some, but I knew what he meant.

The Walkmen -- Hamilton Leithauser. Remember that name. He's the lead singer for The Walkmen and talented as they come, he's probably the most likable, charismatic frontman I've ever seen. The Walkmen are touring for the first time since their breakup 10 years ago, and you can just tell he felt like the luckiest man in the world just to be back with the band. He ended the show running through the walkway into the audience giving everyone high-fives. But he gave me probably the greatest stage moment of the weekend. As the band started playing their biggest song "The Rat," he runs up to the mic with 4 baguettes cradled in his arms, and asks the audience "Who wants some bread?" He then proceeds to to chuck the baguettes into the audience. You can witness some of this at the start of this YouTube video, from which I stole the good quality photo shown below.

Pixies -- I moved up the crowd right after The Walkmen to get a good spot for Pixies. Got into Pixies in high school, and I thought this was totally worth it. It mostly was. Especially since the place was packed. Got some great photos while I could (including the one at the top of this blog post). I told myself beforehand that Pixies would probably be the best band for moshing, even if that's not my thing. Welp. A bunch of other people had that same thought. And I found myself in the center of chaos. Moshpit, crowdsurfers, it was all up in my face. Nobody was able to stand still or go untouched. My crotchety 32 year-old ass would complain about this, but the show itself was so freaking good. There was no stage banter. In fact, it seemed like there was a mere 3-second gap between songs. I knew every song and the energy was relentless. Well, they did eventually relent... They had to stop mid-song during "Vamos" due to lighting. And I can't tell a lie: This was a real storm.

v. CLOSURE

The only band left was Pavement. I made a run for their stage immediately in case the storm stopped. But it only got scarier. I decided to leave, considering how late it was. Even my hopeful side drove past the venue again 30 minutes later, and it was still silent. But I found out the next morning that they let Pavement do a whole set an entire 90 minutes later that night. I was so pissed and distraught and sad and confused. I bought a tour merch t-shirt for these guys. I saw the band post a clip of the show on Twitter, playing in front of a really small audience in the rainy darkness. I commented with my grief of having left too early. And I actually got a reply from a member of the band (Bob Nastanovich) who sympathized with me and said "See you next xs." I don't know what xs means. But with such a bummer ending to the weekend, this is probably the best closure you can ask for.

So would I ever go to a music festival again? Even though this was fun, I'm actually gonna say no. It made me realize just how much I like specific concert experiences. Going to see a favorite band where you know you'll know every song. Going to a small show in an intimate setting. I think the next shows I go to will be like this. Or heck, on a personal level, taking more opportunities to be a performing act yourself. There are clearly just people who like going to concerts more than I do, or actually find the festival atmosphere more enjoyable (smells included). But this was just such an excellent lineup right in my back yard, it was hard for me to say no. (sigh) Pavement may never come to Utah again. But I'm glad I went.