On the road again...

"Everyone goes home in October." So wrote Kerouac, ruminating on his travels criss-crossing the post war American landscape. But guess what? It's November. Actually, it's almost December, for Christ's sake. I came home in October, and you know what? It's fucking boring.

I'm ready for the open road again. Who cares that it's going to be freezing cold, with snow blanketing the ground, breath freezing as it leaves your mouth, crystalizing at your lips in the chilly winter air. I've never had an adventure that was comfortable. In truth, adventure is nothing more than a romantic retrospective of one's suffering.

Now before I scare you off with my masochistic philosophical ranting, let me get to my point. Music can be an adventure, too. Unfortunately, it isn't always; everyone has different tastes, but I believe that a good song is partially defined by its ability to surprise you, to get you out of your comfort zone and push you into new sonic territory. I share this with you because it happened to me like 10 minutes ago...I was pushed.

Spectre Folk is harsh, lo-fi, and nostalgia-invoking . Their singer may be nothing special, and their chord progressions have all been done, but then again that can be said about everyone. They don't shred quite so much as they evoke. Fuck it, I'm rambling and I'd rather be rocking out than typing and editing this shit. Crank your volume and listen to the damned song already.




My mom hates my mohawk.