A Tempo Beyond

July 3rd, 10:15 a.m., blinds shut, lights off, yet solitude remains but a distant memory. Last nights endeavors weighing heavy on my lethargically warped brain. Through the splitting headache of yesterday’s mistakes remains a mysterious level of gratitude and sanctity. The Grateful Dead’s run may be coming to an end at the crest of the weekend, but thanks to their longwinded diligence remains a divine manifestation of music and subsequent outpouring of new bands. Artists have flooded into Chicago from all over the country to take part in this extraordinary weekend. Furthermore, it’s remarkably clear that much of today’s music has been derived and developed thanks to the musical contribution of the Grateful Dead.  Like it or not one of the biggest touring bands in the country, Phish unfolded and blossomed during the last days of the Grateful Dead in the early 90’s and then ballooned their following with the death of Jerry Garcia in 1995. That was a revolutionary point in time for t

Why on earth are the Grateful Dead message boards riddled with negativity? They’ve just capped off two of their final five shows, yet there couldn’t be more negativity in the air. It’s like the band owed us a concert. Not only did they owe it to us, but hell it better be flawless. The negativity is too much. It’s too bloody much I tell you. And shit, if I’m telling you its too much, you know we’ve approached precarious territory. I feel like I should blame our society as a whole, but this unusual deviation probably isn’t what you want to hear, or maybe it is, you sick bastard. It appears we’ve evolved into entitled morons, unappreciative of the endless beauty throughout our reality that exists in every waking moment. I’ve got enough of my own god damn negativity, let alone the time to hear wasteful reviews of an absolutely magical 50 year anniversary of the Grateful Dead. Maybe I’m just sad that I have to leave California and head back to desolation in Michigan. It’s always hard watc

“Music has always been a matter of Energy to me, a question of Fuel. Sentimental people call it Inspiration, but what they really mean is Fuel. I have always needed Fuel. I am a serious consumer. On some nights I still believe that a car with the gas needle on empty can run about fifty more miles if you have the right music very loud on the radio.” —Hunter S Thompson— From heartbreak to regret and far beyond the wrath of my self deprecation, there has always been music. When I say there has been music, I mean the Grateful Dead. Contemplating existentialism with the soothing melodies of the Dead ringing in the background. Questioning my anger while listening to a soul searching Jerry ballad. For years their wicked grooves and insatiable chemistry has haunted my body in an utterly inexplicable manner. I cannot have more gratitude, for without the Grateful Dead I am not the shape I am.  Yes, the Grateful Dead are celebrating their 50 year anniversary. The party wil

Top 5 Favorite Cartoon Theme Songs By Jeremy St. Martin ©Warner Bros. It's 1988, 4th grade and the weekend ritual begins like this: -Get home from school -Get into fight with my brother Folks: "How was School?/"Do you have any homework?" Me: "Fine/No (Yes)" "Can I rent a game?" Folks: "We'll see (No)" -Flip on the tv...Super Mario Bros Cartoon. It's Friday, that means Zelda! -Order pizza -15  hours non stop Nintendo And then Saturday came. Sugary cereal and the usual line-up of weekend suspects. I've read somewhere, there are no more Saturday morning cartoons. Everything is live action, or something of that nature. Not that I pay attention; usually I'm waking up at musician time which means the Saturday morning line up is over. We now have at least three television networks that feature cartoons most any time of the day, but in my opinion, it's not quite the same. There was something almost sacred

Review: Kriss Gaynes Album, Monument River Offers Awesome Element to Electro Pop Genre: Depth By Jeremy St.Martin It’s a cold Tuesday and I’m going through my usual Tuesday ritual: Make sure I have my music folders ready, gas the car, liquid ash coffee buffered with milk and sugar, and yelling at the ancient bastards on the roads to my first rehearsal. It’s cold and I’m crabby as per Tuesday’s guidelines. Until I put in Monument River. I always try to do a little research about any genre with which I am unfamiliar before I see a show/do a review, and this is no exception. But unlike my prior reviews of jazz and folk (the former of which I have decent experience and the latter at least a small grasp), the world of Electronica and it’s many scintillating and moody sub genres are (almost) completely foreign to me. I admit my initial impression of electronic pop was enormously obtuse: blippy bloop blip, add vocals, thank you--drive thru. Electronic music isn’t a new thing. So

In attempts to expound upon my unusual encounter with the light from above, I’m going to continue to harness this devilish transgression of my soul. In layman’s terms, the ensuing babble will be a staunch continuation of my previous blog, regarding stereotypes and deluded musical taste.  Allow me to begin with a common phrase that has been riddled with delusion and perpetuated by the masses for far too long: “Don’t squander your time.” It seems beneficial to read this statement with a formidable grandmotherly tone. So, try again with the added dialect, “Johnny, don’t squander your time!” Hopefully, that was a helpful enterprise. What’s the point, Brandon? Why is time so precious? What’s the freaking point? My real or imagined issues with the perception of time lie within the understanding that these phrases sound entirely reasonable to digest. To reassure this point, you’re most likely thinking, “Yes, this is a necessary attitude to have in order to be successful” or simply, “T

Recently, I’ve had an epiphany of sorts, in relation to my musical listening abilities. I haven’t necessarily determined a more appropriate way of listening. Rather, I am beginning to interpret musical genres in an entirely new fashion. First, It’s no secret that I’ve always been a bit of a pompous moron, abrasively holding my ground on some foolish stance, spouting off on what I enjoy musically. This might not change, but I am at least making an attempt to evolve. Some things are just set in stone, like when someone says they’ve never heard of Jerry Garcia. That’s just a deal breaker. Sayonora! The interesting enlightenment that’s fortified, is how there’s no need in berating the music I don’t like. Besides Nickleback, because that’s clearly just entirely unacceptable music. Furthermore, If I don’t like the Metal genre I can simple avoid it under most circumstances. It’s interesting to think about why we spend so much time talking about things we dislike instead of focusing on the th

Brandon’s Preamble:  After days of deliberation and bouts of despair, I realized it was time to consolidate this lackluster list of videos. It seems there’s nothing more disheartening than realizing your childhood favorites were nothing more than creepy pedophiles carousing along the boundaries of incest, but more about my childhood Aerosmith obsession later. After a drastic overhaul of my initial video list, here’s how things look today, but first a more appropriate preamble: Jeremy’s Preamble:  Before MTV became the “I’m a bratty teenager, look at me” channel, and VH1 became the “I’m a celebrity train-wreck, look at me” channel, they were truly music channels and they were amazing. Music videos had an intense effect on pop culture, and right out of the gate artists wasted no time unleashing vibrant visuals to accompanying fresh sounds. MtV, in the 90’s alone, influenced my life as a musician and during those terrible, gross, awkward times of zits and all the feels, music