Fuck Chicken Soup For The Soul, Give Me Jet Heeled Striker

So it doesn't take a genius to figure if you read my last blog (or even just its title) that things haven't been all flowers and hearts and sunshine for me recently. When I was in counselling recently (my therapy, not being someone elses counsellor) I used a metaphor to describe my depression and stuff as being like I was wearing those buckets on a piece of wood that milk maids used to use - forgive me, I have no idea what they're called. These last few weeks have felt like my buckets have been filled up again and really dragging me down. I'm not wanting to go into that now though, feeling shit can wait for another blog another time. The reason I mention it is because tonight for the first time in ages I felt happy. It was partially the company, I was with two people who have grown to become very good friends that I can laugh and be myself with. The other reason being because I got to listen to some very good music.
A very warm and sunny day turned into a warm and sunny evening and Talking Heads turned into a very warm and sweaty pub. Going in to watch Jet Heeled Striker the air had a heavy scent of alcohol, sweaty young men and hormones with an undercurrent of day old suntan cream and perfume. Odd mixture, but strangely it worked well together. It was a smell that reminded me of freedom, of throwing myself into a gig and not caring about anything but being there to soak in the magic being played in front of me.
And tonight I needed some of that magic, I needed to feel the magic music wash over me and sooth my battered soul a little. It didn't fail. They seemed to play heavier than I've heard them play before. Maybe it was my imagination, the heavy atmosphere mixing with the sound and giving that vibe. It was 100% what I needed though.
There seemed an extra richness in Adams singing tonight that I'm assuming is because he's quit smoking - it's definitely worth the struggle because his singing held it's own against the power and volume emanating from the rest of the band.
It's my opinion that getting a balance between the singer and the music on a CD must be pretty easy - there's enough buttons in a recording studio to make anything sellable no matter how crap it is in it's raw form. I've seen so many bands that have been promising on CD but live either the singer gets drowned out and lost, or it's all about the singer and the music becomes secondary. Not the case with these guys, and certainly not the case today. They marry so well together, no one part of the band or one person is more important than the other. The music is as important as the lyrics, and today they were executed in a beautifully heavy way.
So, I just want to thank them for giving my soul a much needed metaphorical hug and leaving me feel happier than I have for a while.

No comments: