Owner/CEO of SWAK Music management/ a division of Kimberly Cole Communications.
THE PATH TO WINDOWPANE 1.12.13:
SOME ROCKER GIRL HISTORY
WINDOWPANE crossed my path for the first (and until tonight only) time on July 21, 2012. Clarkston, the scene of the interception, is a rural Washington town that stares at the Idaho border. Might have seemed a random place for me to be, but I found myself in some oddball places, with some weird ass life shit circa that time period! I was amid my ‘summer of salvation’, a retreat from life following all things STP and Scott Weiland. The purpose of my personal rock and roll indulgence? It was to rediscover myself, like really, really dig. Find the passionate, outspoken, free spirit that was near dead anymore. Being locked in a cage of intolerance that is commonly refered to as politics does that to a free spirit in the course of over a decade!
Yes. Me. In a suit, sans tattoo’s, devoid (mostly of swearing, holding my opinions: can you even PICTURE this? x all: for the grand prize of the flighty, backstabbing approval of the cult of fake people that cohabited elected office with me and the inner daisy chain cesspool of media). To say I felt out-of-place every single day would be an understatement to you.
As I followed the tour trail of my one common denominator from the times before, during and after the loss of myself to my own personal version of hell, I came to believe that I was the one who had sold out my truth. I rejected parts of my own self to conform to the snakepit. So that summer’s goal was simple. Find myself again, free myself and re connect with my vision: find that courage to derail life as I knew it to repurpose for those dreams that were mine, not anyone else’s for me.
My dream was never to end up a stuffy ass, elitist, stifled and out of touch human. I wasn’t going to allow pressures to make me such win. In a business where I was stoned regularly for telling the truth, calling out bullshit, brazen enough to express myself, it was clear my options were to live life as a reigned in politician, or accept that no one can do that to me: not without my permission. I had allowed much through slow permission. But, single parent, all of my adult life in the business, fresh out of law school: what else was there for me? You gotta have some music when shits that deep!! x
CLARKSTON, WA. ROCKIN’ ON THE RIVER IMPRESSIONS OF THE BAND
On this one road trip, the event was suitable enough to bring my nine-year old son. My son was diagnosed with Aspbergers Syndrome within mere weeks proximity of this summer event. Music intuitiveness, a hallmark of the high functioning autism spectrum disorders, indeed was one of the very first personality traits to imerge from my little guy outta his infancy. Our first common bond outside our love for one another, was our bond over a common love of music.
Aidan (Ace) is an individual in his musical tastes. Like so many things in his life, it’s not easy to penetrate, nor for him to communicate, the inside world of his creative, brilliant, but privately understood mind. For myself, as a person who lives with the challenges that come with Attention Deficit Disorder (I am prime inattentive variety. Yeah, they seriously frustrate one another, God bless our home!), we relish any music that we carry common interest in: as those that hold my interest enough matching those that fit Ace’s narrow, repetitive and restrictive personal musical taste: it is rare! So, both of us head shakin’, stomping on the grass to the music of Windowpane was one of those moments. And. I became a fan.
EXPERIENCING WINDOWPANE FOR THE FIRST TIME:
Pleasing me musically is just as complicated and demanding as pleasing me in any relationship. That would be because, to me, that is what music is. Interrelation between band and audience and a vehicle that carries individual listeners to a place of relating to themself.
I perked up as Windowpane began playing, having drifted off into my head amid the several acts ahead of them.
First chord: a vibrate to the inside of your core, ear busting, reach in and grab some guts, precision hard rock introduction. A one of a kind act unfolded from there and the energy, the exuding force of the band easily grabbed and kept my elusive attention until their last chord.
But, leaving no specific praise ungiven: I am a content gal!
You can sound like heaven and perform with more scorch than hell, but what is it about your music that I want to fold into my life, bring with me into my car, my always present headset, why am I going to interact with your music personally? Talent, a great show, it isn’t enough for me. Manufactured catchy crap with zero heart and soul poured in it anywhere, I can’t relate to it, dialogue inside with it, heal, grow or alter from it, its surface shit and whats the point then? Music connects something inside ourselves. It connects people to life, to love, to loss, to sex, to whatever. But it better connect SOMETHING or I will shamelessly call it shit with zero apology.
So Windowpane: Talent, check. Showmanship (and we aint talking external wow either. No lasers and strippers and fire and shirtless gratuity) but energy off the stage that is internally driven by the band members, check. Now to the real important to me shit: out in the rural sweltering July heat, sweating like a pig, I did what I do when its time to take good music in for one last, and most critical test. I closed my eyes, let the music wash over me and sequestered my mind into solitude with itself and the music alone to co-mingle.
I listened closely to the voice of Glenn Cannon. As I picked out the lyrics, one by one, they clearly projected a piece of himself, right then on a Clarkston stage, and out into the world: that night, the world just happened to consist of this Clarkston audience. And *that* kind of connection with audience is clearly what Windowpane songs are crafted and intended to be. And it makes audiences fans.
As I listened on the field in Gateway, I was shown a part of a bands soul, laid out for receipt by our listening ears, packaged in a hard hitting delivery: a style of music that is vastly unique and uncommon: and where if you don’t pay attention, you just may miss the nuances of the layers.
And like with any music, we all do with it as we please. Music should be this way. Its a commitment. Its a risk. It is an artist putting their heart, talent, and entire ass on the line to give us something of themselves never knowing if it will be accepted, ignored, exploited. And it should instill a sense of investment, ownership, vulnerability into any artist and band: and that will come through at an audience every single time they play it. But that depth in music is getting more and more rare, isn’t it…it is.
I knew then that WINDOWPANE was a rare hard rock band.
So, with that whimsical monologue about an impression from a show months and months ago, one may be curious about such a vivid description. Well, my friends, that kind of music is like spiritual cocaine. When you breathe it in for the first time, there is instant euphoria because it is another level of music. And, to be sure, when I find my dealers, I’m a loyal little addict. Lest I allow any fellow addicted souls to live cold turkey, allow me to let you in on this: Windowpane is uncut. I kept coming back, closed eyes, perched ear buds, bumping my maintenance music regularly since.
WINDOWPANES ORIGINAL MUSIC: WHAT SONGS BELONG ON YOUR LIFES SOUNDTRACK?
As I encountered this band for the first time, concurrently the love of my life was in month two of a comma. A result of traumatic brain injury and a split skull, the tragedy served to have ended the most intense chapter of any interpersonal relationship in my life. This state of affairs, at that time, was felt as a pure, just cant get my head around it loss. The loss symbolizing a end result I had seen coming but never could walk away knowing: the final product of his battle with drug addiction and all the life demons that torment an addict. They torment by proximity too, afflicting me for loving him for longer than I like to admit: but I did. So, with all that pent up, put away, locked, rekeyed and off limits buried in me: The opening few lines of Come Away September came through the microphone, one of the last songs of the evening as dusk hit us overhead.
The song did what only the exclusive rare few pieces of music I marry moments of my life to does. It flooded into the closest, most raw and real parts and unlocked the safe of emotions. Made room for less clunky stock on hand. The byproducts of music like that to everyday people like me, well, it’s why I got into this industry when all was said and done. Music, real music, is in my bloodline. The survival of raw, real, experiential music is what I devoted myself to at the price of a lucrative career in politics. My dad: a longtime writer, bassist, and artist instilled many values in me that I discovered may have gotten unlocked somewhere in process here as well.
Come Away September was a more ballad style showcasing of Windowpane’s talent. It is the song that made me a devotee. Reached in and pulled to the surface all my nuances of love, pain and life events that lodged themselves silently over three years: music, real music, gives those quietly held parts of ourselves an external outlet, those emotions and feelings that define our life a voice. WINDOWPANE plays real, honest music. The song remains one of the most meaningful to the soundtrack of my life.
And then the real important part unleashed: They are from Seattle? Ah, fuck it. Instafan. Close the set with Sweet Child-o-Mine. Fuck it. Aidan was sold too!!
Indeed, Windowpane seems to posses a genuine respect, loyalty and dedication to the local Seattle music scene. Even more is the seriousness by wich they take the responsibility to represent it well and add to the tapestry. Just about every facet of the band, right down to recording in local studios and maintaining local business connections, bleeds awareness and ties to their roots. Any Seattle rocker should respect that: anyone who is over the free agent sports market, the sell out corporations that fuck multi decade workers, or the musicians who forget fast where they came from at their first whiff of fame should respect that; no matter where you live.
THE BAND MEMBERS:
WINDOWPANE is Glenn Cannon on vocals and guitar, Tony Abreu on lead guitar, Mark Harris on bass and Sean Morrison on drums (Sean was filling in on the drums in Clarkston if I remember the “thank you Sean” chant corrrectly . Whatever the case, tonight he *killed* a wicked three-minute drum solo showcasing/announcing his skills as the bands new drummer. Sean replaced original drummer Kevmo Roit, whom I cannot opine on having never seen the band play with him behind the drums.
Windowpane authors their own music, a distinct and unique blend of fast paced, hard hitting rock riffs, runs, addictive hooks, arranged in unexpected and non standard tempos that make them stand out from any other hard rock act out there.
But, here comes my adrenaline kick again. I swear, Windowpanes constant mental fuck to me is their precision in executing extremely difficult music to play in unison: and ready for the mind fuck, they WROTE it that way. And they kill it every time like its nothing at all. Make it look effortless. Again, they make it look so natural you could miss it!
…….(and, BTW. To clear any contextual confusion, for those who have not followed my career as a raver on the Scott Weiland/STP ranters of the world, or, in the alternative, have never experienced life as my next ex: heres the deal. Mental fucking, inherently, is the door that proceeds fucking any real chic on the planet. I don’t want to blow up the unhip male brains here (Besides, I am sure all my male readers are enlightened, stimulating, rockstars with the ladies!) so let’s call this me reaffirming the order of operations on the females species. Mind opens on chics, THEN legs, We are opposite of you dudes, see how that goes. Thats why God made our hanging parts higher, to avoid confusion when attempting to mate with the opposite sex. True shit! Ability to get fully intertwined in a woman’s brain, no matter the duration she spends, is a skill supreme to intertwining her groin for any length of time. I know, I know fella’s. I am fucking your mind now I am sure, but its true. In my world, you will never see any fuck other than a fuck off if the supreme skill isnt demonstrated first. I take my music just the same. Mental fuck as a descriptive term used by me, signals a large scale compliment that excludes the operationally clueless, sexual and musical jackrabbits of the world. Take it to mean they are “mentally engaging/stimulating”. This, to an easily bored, redheaded passioned opinionated mind, is beyond good. This is a compliment closer to stellar.)
The band has the most well executed caesura’s (Doesnt that sound so fancy, don’t leave me and break to google: it is just a fancy word that is the musical equivalent of a mid-sex, tease pull out.i). Especially amid their catalogue of music composition structures, these breaks situated in the most locations of play blows your mind: Fast paced, climax riddled and unforgiving if one mans timing is off, just killer high-octane points of their songs. And they hit these bitches dead on. Every time. Everytime. If you know music, you tip the hat to such a clear demonstration of each band members level of skill required for such perfect execution. Takes nuts to attempt, but these guys wrote that shit INTO these songs themselves! Are you mind fucked with me now!!? Should be. Because there is a confidence that comes with that, a little cockiness even, that is just bad ass when nothing about this band is pretentious.
It’s just fact, and here it is. A band should know they are that good if they are going to brave the turbulence of the music industry, before they touch the scene even if they want a career with longevity, or even hope to have an exit plan that involves coming out in one piece. BUT, here is what is so different about them than many musicians that will tell you ALL about how fucking great they are: WINDOWPANE IS THAT GREAT. Now, if you just love music, it’s just cool to experience, you may not understand the degree of difficulty in what they are playing you. Thats ok, fucking rock out, I have a suspicion the musical demonstration is all about rocking the house in the coolest possible way anyhow! These guys aren’t praise seekers. It’s why I am doing the work for them tonight, someone has to tell you the basics of what this band brings. Not just tonight, but to every live concert.
THE CROWD EXPERIENCE:
The adrenaline command that washes over the audience when during the highest high, most audience engrossing points of a song, it is suddenly ripped from our ears, favored by a unison silence of the band and I mean a silence of movement, sound, and the crowd in high energy has this moment of time, its just something to feel. Right as we register the silence, WINDOWPANE hits you back with a perfectly aligned punch of resumed notes that fucks your mind, blows your mind: whatever you prefer. Whats universal, is the sudden understanding that you were in the middle of something they were giving you and you wanted it, you were about to beg to get back. Yeah. It’s that good. As you will see post show thoughts below: I did give up some of the music tonight for sex, I know, I know: at least you know now why all my analogies tonight are fornication laden. SEE, Music just interacts with moments! Tonight was a sexual filter night I guess! (Email me interested rock readers, I’d be more than happy to tell you wich songs I kept thinking “this would be a great song to have sex to.” Yes, you know me. I DID create the playlist. Fine. I created the playlist before I wrote the blog even. I wouldnt forget the info from the show, I wrote that down. I just didnt want “songs to fuck to” next to my legit journalism ) Damn, that almost fooled me even x
I wasnt going to give up my WINDOWPANE bender for shit else tonight, and that included sex! Why would I cut off the hay roll for WINDOWPANE and not the whole show. Because it is not music in general I am talking to you about as some concept. I had two sure things lined up for the night in my opinion. Why give one up for a gamble. I stand by my logic, I committed to both places that I knew where a guaranteed kick ass, heart racing, fucking awesome time!
And WINDOWPANE didn’t let me down. The blasts slicing through the air, the loyal fans and members of the crowd new to the band, the energy made from the music that is a little piece of the cores of Glenn, Tony, Mark and Sean, a Windowpane show is funner, more consistent and lasts longer that most sex. I don’t care if someone isn’t totally familiar with them, it ought to be in a facts of life on planet earth, musical reference deskbook somewhere, that a Windowpane show is better than 98% of the sex anyone could possibly have at given time. It is flawless and failsafe. I had to make that ration decision after all, you can pretty much call it scientific now right? I chose WINDOWPANE and I did the right thing. (Sorry hun: great opening act though!)
And. This is hard rock people, not classical piano or a couple of dudes with an acoustic and a tambourine! This is Tony rocking out, all over the stage, chics swooning from the metal edged magnet he becomes when he is in his zone and guitar is blazing. This is Mark giving you bass chords that literally create a deep, rattled flame down through your body. This is Sean laying out a back beat that physically and auditorily defies the human understanding as you watch him work. This is four guys, totally into the show, whole energy invested in every song, professional, kick ass and that is why you are drawn into their zone. Windowpane is a zone of their own (I should know, I zoned out the whole prior hour set ahead of their set…..the demarcation of zones was pretty obvious. At least to me!) Their showing at the Showbox reaffirmed my stellar taste in live music, if I do say so myself. They put on an excellent, everything I have said so far, show.
THE NEW MATERIAL
Interruption for a relevant ADD rabbit trail….I would love to know the practice schedule these guys keep! Bc start to finish: the precision, the delivery, the quality and co-operation as musicians, I wonder often how much time that band invests to make it look so easy and natural to have that kind of superior bandsmanship, (Fuck you, I made that word up, I know…moving on bc it’s an awesome word Truly, synergy like that takes something extra to make and some bands work at it forever and it never evolves. At least not like this. Another mind fuck moment from your local blog writer.
These guys are so raw, real and talented to start with: live show, new material, sold out venue \m/
Oh, my topic, sorry: The set list ranged from some of the first hits to new and unrecorded material: wich was perfect to remind me of all the skill! Ever notice it harder to catch all the nuances of a band once you know the songs? Then you belt the songs, get so into it that you forget that you’re not ACTUALLY a 5th member here? Yeah, we all do it! It isn’t just me, stop it! I see you all there at these shows!). On top of talent and dedication working for them, the loyal fan base that was out in force also made the debut of new material like “Welfare Line” a well received addition: for me that was a gem in the crown of this night.
Windowpane displayed a confident, personable, but in your face show that was a show of themselves and their music. Both scream just bad ass rock. Delivered with energy and attitude across the board including flagship songs like opener “Remains” and natural sing along inducer like “You all stopped listening”.
WINDOWPANE has toured with Five Finger Death Punch, Rising West and Queensryche, Soulfly and others. As before mentioned, I encountered them as the lead in for Scott Weiland.
THERE IS ALWAYS AN ASSHOLE IN ROCK AND ROLE*
(*and since this band is asshole free… someone in the crowd will always emerge in the void to take on the role that is requisite to rock and try to assign it. Observe my theory in action tonight…..)
So, situated where I was, the sound pit is next to me, with the wide railing I had set up my temp “office” for the evening upon. All exiting and entering occurs only by walking by this rail. Some douche stops and ask about my computer: ORIGINAL dude! Not even looking up, I ask if he is leaving. To which he says yes. Then REALLY original shit is said, and when I disclose that I am blogging on Windowpane, who is now set up and starting to play, I intentionally avoided saying I was ‘working’, lest any confusion get him excited at a false sense of any chance in hell existing. Hinting that I wasn’t interested in anything but watching the band I flatly ask “Have you seen them before? They are awesome” still not looking at all his way.
This dude was clearly a preppy, yuppy, full of himself poser who bought the jeans ripped, took extra time and gel to get his hair to look just off center of tousled bc of course, any rocker chic wouldnt know the difference between a rocker dude and a metrosexual THEN, right? I barely blinked when he answered no. Of course not: with all that condecending hipster vibe, leaving post RB, I laughed inside and decided to test this smart ass punk a little. Loudly, since music has begun “You should stay and listen. They are REALLY good!!” I tauntingly gush. To which he uses the loud music as his catalyst to lean in, all close to my ear and sideways and then proceeds with some shit about seeing plenty of bands in his lifetime and we still have time to hit a bar rather than watching “these guys up here showing off”…. DETOUR TIME, OH HELLS NO! You know whats next!! Do you all remember the drunk fuck in Asbury Park, arguing with someone else, then pulling me in to ask me, only to get pissed of at me bc the other guy was correct. Arguing up in my bubble about a show I was and he wasn’t at. He was a handful from there and remember how I so wanted to slap that dude? RESUME HERE: I WANTED TO PUNCH THIS FUCKER OUT and no amount of hair gel could pad the impact if I had. Why does this always shake out like this when I really can’t, um, express myself to the fullest? Apparently my self-control hinges on how bad I want to see the shows I come for, so please indulge me here. I stared straight ahead, ignored the douche until he finally got the picture. Sound techs were laughing their asses off as he walked off. He looked like the stupid ass he behaved like. Here on the blog though, is where I am just getting to speak my peace. There will always be an asshole at a Rock show. At a WINDOWPANE show, they WILL be from the audience.
OPINIONS ARE LIKE ASSHOLES: TONIGHT THEY ARE ONE IN THE SAME:
In my head I held back: GET the FUCK OUTTA here dude! REALLY? Really? How about the barfing chic behind me with the sparkles shirt? If you understood Rock, you would have looked at the Johnny Cash shirt, tattoos and crazy hair and decided to find an easier target to play music superior.But, I think the girl that cant hold her liquor over there, I bet you both came for the same band and I can only assume she wont notice you are a full of shit, pretentious poser, but instead be flattered and as eager as you are! Rock is out of your comprehension buddy. You may need to make her an extra strong cappuccino or some shit in the morning after she wakes up sober next to your wanker ass, but I promise you she is way more impressed with all three of you she sees than me looking right thru your ignorant, interrupting my show, ass, THANKS. Assclown, I swear. They manifest post 11 pm no matter where in the continental United States I am. I love you all, feel much better now! Dont fuck with real rocker girls and REALLY stay away from the redhead’s if you shop at Ambercrombie and Fitch. Just sayin. You will get your head knowcked off talking shit in our house, about any single one of the people that actually belongs to the family. I took huge offense to this dude. But the truth is they are everywhere, every live show I have ever been at.
WINDOWPANE IS IN A POSITION TO CHANGE THE LANDSCAPE OF HARD ROCK MUSIC
I tell the story for two reasons. Everyone is a critic. That doesn’t make them qualified and it also doesn’t make them sincere. WINDOWPANE may be the only unsigned band that I ever cover on MRGLITR. I don’t know them personally, don’t work for them, I am a fan that believes its a freak of nature they arent on a label. And, that it is only a matter of time.The latter two statements I say not just as a fan, but as a professional. I chose to cover this band, despite the face that it deviates from format because this is the type of band that turns the industry around to artists, fans and real music. And that is a bigger cause, with a smaller army and a payoff that I personally believe in doing my part to achieve. The resuscitation of rock music into the hands of artists and fans is a steep climb that few can endure. These guys will. And they have the skill to do it.
Number 2: when somone like douchebag makes a comment like that in passing, someone who never has even heard the band: my experience is that they have just taken a massive, obvious strength of the other and tried to distort it into something weak to achieve their own agenda. People forget that this trailer park girl has a doctorate, a couple degrees, and I can read and shit Art Of War. It’s easy to spot when you look. This, my friends, is universally a force we will all encounter in our lives when something great rests in our talents, our ability to achieve, is near our possession. Call them haters, call them gossipers, liars. Its scapegoating. And its the last true sign to me that this band is awesomely close to impacting far more than our regional scene. No one talks unqualified shit, unless it is coming from a stirred insecurity, an almost involuntary reacting to an encounter with what they dont posses or have control over. I dont know WINDOWPANE’s history with people trying to hold them back: but doing what I do for a living, I have to think there have been a few. So here are my thoughts on asshole’s chosen distortion:
Starting with apologies to the band for already being likened to all forms of sex, drugs and rock and roll in this blog, I am about to outdo myself. To the fellow Windowpane fans that may forever remember me solely by this one comparison, I have to do it and I hope you indulge me to the end. I have a takeaway point, I promise.
Have you ever seen a big, huge, perfect set of natural tits on any girl on the planet who wears anything but a moo-moo. Even in a turtleneck, would you notice? Would a man look? HELL THE FUCK YES. The girls look!! Natural shit mesmerizes masses, ya know. Tell me how those blessed few ladies are supposed to dress to cover that. AND WHY SHOULD THEY EVEN WANT TO? God gifted her with the rack and I think boob blessed girls ought to do what they please. If they pick a tight shirt, low shirt, whatever: they are showing more of what they naturally have. Why is that wrong? God gave me a nice ass. Let someone tell me to wear big jeans. It wouldn’t be pretty. NO! I wear hip-hugger jeans, skirts, whatever I want and that shows off my ass! If I had perfect 10 natural boobs, I personally would buy my shit two sizes small. Windowpane showcases their talent. There is nothing that shows off. They are perfect ten boobs that pull, like a plain tank top out of the closest. We wouldn’t pay to see their talent if they picked a moo-moo to package it in.
Now, if I notice a girl with the rack, I appreciate that she has nice, unusual to come by,’ chics pay to try to be her with half the result’, tits. WHATS THE FUCKING PROBLEM HERE. But you know that many people would have a problem, right. See, wanker dude and his kind are like the A cup, tight ass, prim and proper girlfriend that catches the booby loving boyfriend looking at those boobs. You get what I mean, I know you know these types. There is the split in attitudes between chics like me, and generally the hard rock culture, that can see great things for what they are, take our lack of it not in the least bit personal and we appreciate, celebrate, participate in acknowledging the quality of natural talent: ok and of perfect 10 tits when they pass us. Shit, I’d turn that into a valid reason for restroom sex at the next stop. K. But there will always be A cuppers, those that will slap the shit out of the boyfriends arm, make ninety comments, be huffy the rest of the day talking about “What kind of slut dresses like that… ” and no one ever wants to be the one to confront crazy with “but she was wearing the same shit as you! She just fills it out better”. See what I am saying.
Anytime you challenge a pattern and call out whats wrong, anytime you don’t compromise or hide the parts of who you are that are built to impact that pattern to make what is wrong change, someone will hate. I see a band that has no silicone in their big, perfect 10 talent. And that talent, where their music comes from, its going to be a part of breaking a pattern in music that has robbed a generation from the quality and interaction that makes people aware of themselves, better, more open. Maybe thats what its about really.,,, wow, deep shit! Dang.
INTEGRITY: Perfection of execution is something I have witnessed at both shows, each separated by almost six months of passing time. And its literally present through all songs. Windowpane plays music in a way that stands to redefine the standards of todays live acts and invalidate todays overworked music. It’s 100% hard rock: delivers all the elements us discriminating rockers treasure as our culture of music: but WINDOWPANE does it with what cant be seen, heard and carries just as much power as the their instruments in their skilled hands: There is an understated, pride in ownership, mother fucking take it to the bank QUALITY that makes them unique and special. In todays musical environment, therein lys the highest premium I place on music and I will pay my money and be loyal in my participation in exchange. This, is what we call a fan.
DEFIANCE: This is a fan made band. They earn every single one of us. Windowpane distributes their own music and has built their base through sweat on the stage, giving their time to fans and taking nothing at all for granted. They carry a belief in themselves right into those parts they give us through their music. People want to buy that, be a part of that. I said people, that isn’t always the ‘industry’. That’s a whole other blog.
HONESTY: Having met each member of the band as an any other person in the crowd fan (I try to never talk to anyone but a venue before the actual shows, lest an asshole musician is suddenly the nicest dude on earth KNOWING I will call him an asshole publicly.See the beauty of my purist method in bringing you the realist shit I can! It is my pleasure, though I have no dirt for you tonight outside of the shit pile poser: a direct fan of what was playing ahead of WINDOWPANE.
STAND OUTS: I will let you deduce on the other local bands that played by the courtesy links below. If I am going to miss bands to get laid, I can at least lay their info down for relay and out of respect. Though the one act I saw, um. I don’t want to be a bitch, I wasn’t there for them. But the status quo, over commercialized RB shit, its a tuning fork that send rot into the stratosphere. I remain a little bit pissed that that at all effected the crowd or the tone of the room, but it did. Fans of half assed talent turds that have been glossed up and polished are going to resent a band like WINDOWPANE. Not to be unfair, I picked the one musician out of this act that I could discuss skill level of, but that would mean critiquing the entire thing and I wasn’t there for that. I have to say something bc it effected the room. It drew a line in it actually. And interacting with these aliens to our world was a bit draining actually. To the one musician, I think he should find a new group yesterday and come over the land of substance with us. I like Justin Beiber and all, but I don’t get that hard rock Beiber fever thing I guess. I dont know, I left to smoke five minutes in, so maybe I missed what the big deal was. I seriously re checked the sexed off makeup job I did in the car and hit on the door guy a couple times. Walked around the block, talked to some of the guys with change cups, came back they were STILL on. Barely re set up my station, when douche-boy comes right as relief hits the stage. A story you will appreciate: I dont play poker bc I am far too honest, expressive and impulsive for the ‘poker face’, I aint got one!! Biker dude comes over and says “what you dont like these guys” to wich I made the Beiber reference. He laughed “No shit, I’m with ya darlin. I thought this must be a young kid thing”. THANK GOD! If the bikers can still differentiate the difference here and are confused, it is not just me being a rag!!
(*And RE my cop to Justin Beiber likage =fuck off I have a 9 yr old, remember!)
MUSIC: A VALUE SYSTEM WINDOWPANE CLEARLY TAKES SERIOUSLY
I promise this as fact, I have never met a more grounded, grateful, and unpresumptuous set of musicians. Theyre attitude toward fans reminds me of my firm: it’s family when you share the values and attitudes in appreciation and respect for the importance of real music. It’s a family I hope one day more people will belong to when we demand a deeper, richer, more filling course of content. And these guys are just as devoted to being a part of what comes back into the culture and smashes it up into a more hearty fare.
When you wont compromise your values, everything really does come a little less easily. Music business, even more so. Windowpane has put in dues that make me confident that they wont ever sell out and when I am listening to them on national radio, hearing Come Away September on the easy listening mu-sak fucking overhead radio station in the grocery store (you know!! Where all you want is a fucking redbull and now Journey is stuck in your head for a week. Yeah, you know!) I love this band because they have walked the walk enough to earn my trust. When the industry picks up Windowpane, we all can trust it will be on Windowpanes terms. They stand for something. THEY STAND FOR SOMETHING. Who else really can we think of in this genre that would apply to. In the business of hard rock, that takes internal fortitude that does make kinsfolk out of the few nut havers.
And, it makes you pull for your family like you would if your family wasnt fucking nuts. Or is that just mine? Overshare, my bad.
Tonight also, marked a night of a full roster of local talent (I have pledged to go see the band I caught the final song of). I just got laid: but they seemed pretty worthy in my whole three minutes present before they wrapped. The energy alone screamed Seattle, my scene, and brought about a pang of guilt in me that perhaps my music proffessional credential was shot to shit for the night. Then I perked up: yeeeaa… but! My rocker girl tramp stamp still reads golden baby. Then came RB and all guilt was gone.
Our local rock station, KISW, is extremely supportive of our local music scene. They get my unyielding props for the support they give to artists like WINDOWPANE, and to platform nights like tonight.
Gathering under one roof, not just any roof, but the epic sound concave of a venue that is a staple of the Seattle music scene is it’s own experience.
The Showbox came into our local music iconography in 1939. It’s now evolved into two locations. I arrived for this show to a bar fight on the street front of 1st avenue; this being the flagship. The original place is now refered to as “the Market” and sits across from the Pike Place Market. Sodo is just up the street and is more modern and intimate with a low-key fluid feel to its music usage. Showbox Market is a venue that has come to be a part of our music culture. The Showbox at the Market holds just over 1300, and with Windowpane headlining, and four local bands rounding out the evenings lineup: Windowpane SOLD OUT our hometown musical mecca. True to form, Glenn paid many sentiments of gratitude to KISW for putting it together, and to all the bands. Even the shitty one. (he didn’t say that…I did)
Check out WINDOWPANE’s early work here: Push (2000). Daybreak, WINDOWPANE’s 2nd CD: The Band worked with veteran Producer Brett Eliason (Pearl Jam, Mad Season, Neil Young, Audioslave, R.E.M etc.)
Last thoughts on the show. Tony kicked out some of the most nasty guitar drivers that make it fact: if you weren’t moving, you just weren’t human. Again, just as in Clarkston, there was some female commentary happening that made it clear WINDOWPANE may end up being appreciated for more than their music playing,
Windowpane delivered collectively some the most skillful, flawless breaks I have ever seen. That bluesy texture to Glenn’s voice showcased perfectly in the delivery of their newest songs, to wich I am eagerly awaiting the album.
The Showbox and all the staff were amazing. I personally got lost seeking the restroom, a little disoriented from the rush to arrive perhaps, I was fortunate for the doorman at the bar tolerating my frantic potty dance and host of other questions throughout the night. (Ok, ok and he was hot. Meaning of course, I failed to ask any other staff member any other question the remaining hour of that nights wandering through the venue).
The gravitational force onstage was pure energy: WINDOWPANE in action. They are consistent, they are hard-hitting, they are top-notch musicians that take seriously being a Rock and Roll band. How these fellas remain unsigned, I dunno. But Seattle can’t hoard our hard rock boys of WINDOWPANE for long. Mark my words!
Great show. Great Band. Great night in RockerGirlLand.
Ok, you have patiently read along. So as you know I loved this night, i love local live music:
BUT, I CANT REALLY TELL YOU ABOUT THE OPENERS. UM. WHAT HAPPENED WAS….
UW happened. No, no not the college: well yes the college. Shit. Let me explain.
Yes, you all read about my crazy adventures in dating land. They are high octane, thats true. But, heres how I live through all that. Theres this guy: not my boyfriend per se, but I was a little shocked to find out that he meets the dictionary definition of such. Touche’ In my rocker girl life, this guy has been my non drama, utterly delicious man candy throughout the single portions of life for approaching nine years now. We will call him UW, as in University of Washington, bc that where he played football for the Huskies back in his college days, and you’d probably guess it if you saw him. Imagine a clean-cut, athletic built, totally my opposite in a rugged male energy, all stable, steady and understated, stubborn, independent guys guy that looks a lot like Mark Wahlberg without tattoos. Not my norm ‘type’, except that I always get excited to crack his solid demeanor. I doubt opinionated rocker girl is his, but likewise, he cracked my code a long while ago, You wouldn’t peg us as being anything close to the explosive chemistry we are together, but we always have been. We actually intended to do the whole boy meets girl dating thing in the beginning. Alas, different though we may be, we always had one thing very much in common. Truth: we didn’t make it out of my front door to go on that first date. Indeed, the next time my front door opened, it was daylight.
Now, I wouldn’t snub opening acts usually. Lest we forget that my company only takes artists that are just starting out and haven’t been signed yet. So I value these bands and respect support acts. To show up for the main event only is something I usually turn my nose at as transient and cliche. Elitist even in my book. And, I admit. I had my show bag packed early, to be SURE I was out the front door on time. I double verified all was situated for the evening to go smoothly. And it would have. Well, it did actually. But I was so ready to be there at 6:30 sharp! Backup phone, ensured full charge on the mobile air card, extra reporter pad, flashlights, large quantities of Red Bull and Marlboro’s, hot damn I am a responsible girlie today. YEAH, and then….
After over a month and several days without my goldticket standard of physical, chaos free relations: we crossed each others paths in the air as I flew from Florida to New Jersey to home, he was flying from home to Florida. Home he gets just days ago, workdays resuming immediately, me in domain transfer hell and juggling a new business prospect. I poke a text over around midday, absolutely bursting with lack of patience to get my hands on him finally, I offer what I swore I’d never again do: wich is invite any dude to a show. ADD = inability to control impulses, lest we forget Circa 5pm, he is taking care of some family stuff, I get a text saying “What about before the show?”. Picture the angel and devil on my shoulder. They spoke for not even a full second before my hands are already way ahead of all that typing some filler bullshit and the inevitable, predictable, anyone could call me autojerking “It has to be quick”. I fucking knew better than that!! This guy hasnt outlived the cockroaches of my life for nothin’!
Ever since the advent of blindsided complication, emotion laden, insecurity landmines and some involuntary detachment from Jersey, it has felt like a growing battle to keep the Jersey question marks off of my side of the country, make peace with the legitimate question marks all over my brain without letting them mutate into erroneous question marks on me. Well, nothing on me has any unsolved question marks when I am around UW. I would say in the male world, he is one of the true authorities on the ins and outs of who I actually am. Nine years is solid to be confident that you know a person. We don’t do the crazy parts of dating. Our commitment has no roots in obligation, but a dedication does seem to have crept in over the years that is more preference driven than demand driven. The lack of boredom and excellent sex has kept us pretty solid and reliable in our no pressure presence and unconditional acceptance of the other. We built trust that is not about making promises. If one of us gets into relationships we each have always been respectful to honor that. We are both extremely loyal people when we enter relationships, It just happens to rarely be an issue.
Perhaps it is best understood if I tell it this way: we are both committed to what breeds contentment and relieves pressure in life, committed to not overplaying a hand that dealt us those kind of good things. For sure we are committed to the value of our sex life. He’s a great guy and I find it fair to say in many ways he has been a touchstone in my crazy life. (Before I get email, bc I know I will: I think UW as a boyfriend would be too stable and normal for me, I would rock the boat just to have some movement and I will tip a boat for the splash with certain personalities: uh, like his and as a girlfriend I would guess I’d be a lil too redheaded energy ball wild for him not to jump ship. Neither of us have the best track record: and even more, we are very familiar with one anothers stats and MO’s. We would break up in a week. So no frilly, girls girl kind of emails, capisci?
The music business (and the shitbags in bars where business unfolds) is chock full of gross, transparent, dime a dozen come ons and shallow, boring, self absorbed people. But, be real, it also is full of assorted well known, money having, abnormally physically attractive and powerful by the average person’s measure ones as well. Makes it intimidating for men I find even mildly interesting, bc they are pretty universally none of the above. My work is my love, and my life is fast paced and full. Single is my long term commitment. When a qualified copilot crosses pathways, I will easily reconsider: because that will be a kick ass dude. Working in music is working daily in the heart of my passion, that makes me have a really high, sometimes elusive to define even to myself, threshold bar of gaining my interest, and even higher, to keep my attention. Once in a blue moon someone gets there, but almost universally it is through a hole of compassion I have that loves, loves train wrecks as an extreme sport. And they crash! All be damned, its amazing! Its bc I like train tracks that haven’t been traveled conventionally, just being off the track is kinda hot to me. But copiloting life with me, thats different. That dudes a solid engineer in building train tracks in the middle of anywhere and have the attitude and confidence to handle anything, anywhere and I haven’t met him yet. That simple.
So, there you have it. If you read my first ever blog, and you read this: you have filled in the whole picture. I have a fast paced, collision course of dating and I have my stabilizer. If UW ever wanted a commitment, could I do life without the NASCAR style adrenaline of crashing on purpose? I don’t know. It is not all or nothing in this world we live in. But, I can say that UW is my gold in a dingy parade of concrete cities, bars, airstrips and highways. I am always a shiny little redheaded thing. That is satisfied c/o UW. I don’t chip away at a single shine on him, he is wonderful.
So, ITS TRUE, I knew I was picking sex over strict timeliness. I thought I would miss maybe one of the opening acts. At the close of business, I was just over two hours late heading TO the Showbox. Welcome to it folks. So I sped: and I made a 25 min travel into a 15 min one In my world UW was the opening act for Windowpane. Windowpane was a perfect second rush of adrenaline (Fine. Technically the fourth). Whatever! I fixed my makeup in the car, hauled ass, caught the end of a local band I have committed to specifically go see, bc they were good and made me feel a pang of music infidelity come over my afterglow: and then the BeiberGoesRock….excused myself to use that ample time to further recompose, and I was set. Gold as usual after UW time. It worked out perfectly. …. though I did find myself thinking “Damn, we could’ve had another hour!” x
And, of course. In the end the blog was delayed from posting. Much like the phone cord I left at The Stone Pony the night I met Jersey. My high hopes of rivaling those flash lightening, up to the moment bloggers of the world were screwed by tech, website and generalized snafus. OF COURSE, my technology fought me! My phone froze, I reboot = no good. Call my carrier, they need me to take out the SIM and thus call from another phone, wich I am shocked thinking people have home phones anymore. And, down a day.. and on, and on. So it goes in my world of follies and ADD quirks. Whattaya gonna do? You all shall come to know and love the ABC’s of well-meaning me! If it can happen, or even if it can’t, somehow with me it does. User error? Well, that is always possible
Love and Rock throughout 2013 Everyone.
AS PROMISED: LINKS TO THE ACTS I MISSED OUT ON
Apologies to the bands I missed totally, and see you all soon to the one I only was there to preview briefly: