An Engine Called Fuzz


Fuzz’s listed genre of music is garage punk, and I am led to believe that is a strategic move to downplays expectations and range. A three piece that could easily pass as a larger band, Fuzz has the type of hard rock riffs that will satisfy ears grown accustom to bands both inspired by and including Black Sabbath.

One of the biggest compliments I have for their second release, Fuzz II, is how appreciative I am of this album from start to finish. There’s not one track that peaks out from the rest, and there isn’t a valley to be heard. If you have something that you need to get done, let Fuzz II drive you. This album is perfect for road trips, errands, household chores, background music for a spark of creativity, and you want to flex in front of the mirror while listening at full volume…

Go For It!


Fortune’s Folly is Fucking Fantastic

“Ms. Calysta, one of these days you’ll be world famous, and I’ll tell everybody I know that I got to see those gorgeous eyebrows of yours in person.”

Every now and then these cool cats from a local band come into a store I work at. Being just down the street from a music studio, I get to see a lot of this. Sometimes these types come in with a shine to their eyes that will put a smile on your face. Most of them have a pretty good thing even if all they ever end up doing is play king of the bar, so I try to make time to catch their acts.

Over a patch of time I got to observe this unusually close knit group of folks who were happy to be alive and buying snacks. They made sure to mention that they were doing their favorite thing just down the road; making music.

“What are you guys called ?” I asked

Ms. Calysta took point without hesitation and stated ” Fortune’s Folly, we’re psychedelic pop!”

Woah…stop the transaction. Nobody just goofs around with psychedelic pop, that genre takes craftsmanship and dedication. I was then handed a band sticker, a work of dark art that resides on my travel mug to this day.

Although I am one to keep my expectations in check, I had a pretty good feeling about Fortune’s Folly. The time I was able to get around and see them was at Old Nick’s Pub. Located on the outskirts of the Whiteaker Community of Eugene Oregon, Old Nick’s is a decadent punk venue with great sound and dark atmosphere. You can spill a beer on the concrete floor, but not teeth.

I was delighted to have a brief moment with Ms. Calysta before the show started, as she has an undeniable charm to her. Subtle here, expressive there, overall she’s a real hard person not to like. Fortune’s Folly took the stage well after midnight. The floor had gathered with an eclectic crowd, the likes of which could have been their own center of attention anywhere else. The stage was set for a performance, and from the moment Folly began their set, you could feel something worthwhile was going on.

I would soon find out that Ms. Calysta was not just a pretty face, she was about 16 different types of amazing. She could have just straight owned it with her singing, projecting all the right notes. On top of that she added high energy one of a kind dancing, owning the stage and the crowd. It was more than a pleasant surprise to hear what a crisp, professional, polished sound this four piece band had. They performed like a well oiled machine, playing off each other’s strengths with no gaps or goofs. It didn’t  take too long into their set to realize that performaners this good aren’t going to be local for long.

If you ever get a chance to see Fortune’s Folly live, don’t hesitate. When they take the stage they don’t ask if you’re having a good time.

They demand that you do.

Makara Heart Chisels Out A Gorgeous Musical Sculpture.



I told myself…from the beginning…if these were all the memories and moments I would get…I’d be okay with that, and I would cruise on those images for the rest of my life.

On any given evening in the Whiteaker Community of Eugene Oregon, there is something good going on. People, places, and events will allow you to get lost in the culture of the night.

This sort of atmosphere can be magnified times ten during the annual Whiteaker Block Party. You could very well have the time of your life stumbling into someone’s basement party before you even have a chance to experience the local artists, crafters, food booths and musicians.

It was a hundred and five degrees during the 2015 Block Party, and upon entrance I was greeted, dare I say enchanted, with funky danceable keyboard rythyms, and a voice that did more than just catch the ears. It was a voice that spoke straight to the soul, a hint of pain, a hint of playfulness.

Standing off to the side, I soaked in the pleasureable tunes of Makara Heart. As much as I wanted to stay and take in all the goodness Makara had to offer, I thought if this is just the beginning of the block party, I’m going to be on one hell of a journey exploring all the great things the Whiteaker had to offer.

I destined further up to the food booths, eyed up the craft booths, witnessed one generation teach break dancing to the next, checked out some other music, and said my hellos. The entire time the soundtrack playing in my head was of the exoticl y crafted songs of Makara Heart. For a moment I was stunned by the fact that I could not shake how original and hypnotic she sounds. Was it possible that the first act I caught was the very best thing about the Whiteaker Block Party?

I ventured back to give her a second listen, and once again I became transfixed. After a couple more songs, and to be truthful, it could have been six songs as I was spirituality transported to a place where time did not matter, Makara stepped away from the keys.

She gave me a look from toe to head, ending her move with a flirtatious cheeky smile.

“What’s up? ” she asked me.

“That was great! ” I replied, using every ounce of restraint that I could muster in the moment, trying not to geek out and make it look like I’ve never been anywhere or seen anything before in my life.

We chatted briefly about her music and albums for sale, of course I had to buy one!

“What’s your favorite color?” Makara questioned.

Purple was my reply, and to this day, I don’t 100 percent know why I gave that answer. I’m a blue guy, dark blue at that. The rational, practical part of me wants to say that I told her purple so as not to tell a stranger what my favorite anything was. The romantic in me, the man who enjoys nothing more than to take in a good scene would say that I chose purple so as to promote conversation further down the road. One album purchased and I made my way.

I carry the imagery of this day around in a pocket inside my brain.

It would be a while before I gave this purple tinted cd a listen to. The cover is very striking, her picture is haunting and fragile. The album sat on my shelf in front of my other music, and in a casually strange way I felt that she was looking over my other wares, protecting them from the harm of a cruel and clumsy world. “Fellas, you’re going to be okay,  Makara is here to protect you. ”

Once I was able to clear my mind and give the music it’s proper due, I was absolutely taken back by the beauty of the songs. The name of the album is Bittersweet Memories, and it is absolutely gorgeous. The musical structure has an unusual listen ability to it, pulling you into the stories being told. You are given the essence of something you didn’t know you wanted to absorb.

As most artists cringe upon how others interpret their work, which is basically their soul, I will let you know that my writing skills are what would barely quality as amateur. I just know great when I hear it.

The songs are about love, love lost, beauty, and a whisper of something deeply personal and moving. I was overcome with the thought that I was so fucking sorry to hear that her heart got broke.

I told myself from the beginning, that if these were all the memories and moments I would get…I’d be okay with that…and I’m not.

That’s the poetry and romance of life.

The best is yet to come for Makara Heart.









R.L Burnside Means It


As exciting as it is to embrace the things that capture the pulse of right now, it’s also healthy to cleanse the pallet now and then. R.L Burnside owned a groove like to no other, and when he says I got an ass pocket of whiskey and a front pocket of gin, if you don’t open this door I’ll kick the mother fucker in…I believe him.

Like A Reverse Flash Gordon


When a comet is set to collide with the planet Hondo, the citizens decide to send their most decorated solider, General Trius, on a mission to find a new home their people. Crash landing on Earth, Trius is all but ready to obliterate the natives until his actions are thwarted by the powerful essence of…music.

There are two things that the planet Hondo does not have, well, two things that we are made aware of, music and buckets. Upon discovering a passion he did not know he had, General Trius gives himself the Earth name of Bill, picks up the banjo, places a bucket upon his head, and starts himself a family. The days go by and Bill is content to entertain his young daughter with fairy tales of the far away planet of Hondo and it’s odd customs.

The one day Bill’s life is punctuated by the drama of the inevitable.

What we’re talking about here is The History of Future Folk, a charming sci-fi tale of music and passion. While this feature is low budget, it never feels cheap, and deftly uses it’s sci-fi elements more as enduring qualities than a reliance on the spectacle.  Nils d’Aulaire plays General Trius/Bill with a refined balance that you just don’t see everyday. He’s detached and cool, not to cool for school, just cool enough to get a competent job done.

Tight direction, a pace that is never dull and yet allows for the characters to exist a little in each moment, and music that, if we’re being honest, is scene stealing material. One could easily surmise that all of these elements, in the hands of any other director, with production from any other studio, could have led lead to a misfire at best, or a just plain bad idea come to life at worst. However, at this particular time, with this precise group of individuals involved, the underdog of all underdogs  have just produced the sort of crowing achievement that every artist dreams of.

I won’t lie to you here, I had seen this movie advertised for some months on my Netlfix, and it seemed interesting enough that I would get around to watching it. Life experience will teach that not every quirky idea come to light is pulled off as well as it could have been. Reading a description involving a banjo playing alien folk duo certainly teases the old pleasure center of the brain, just not entirely enough to drop what one is doing, throw it all the chance, and brace for the potential disappointment. Rest assured, you’re not going to have a bad time with this movie, additionally, you’re not going to want to keep quiet about it either.

With only 14 total reviews on IMDB for this 2012 release, and less than 600 likes on Facebook, it will seem unfathomable, if not unconscionable that a larger audience has not been garnered for this fine piece of work.

So now it’s in your hands.

This is your baby.

You tell the world about your baby.

So Good You Will Melt and Then You Will Reform Yourself


Remember last year when your neighborhood just could not fucking get over King Tuff? Well Milk Music has returned at just the right time to make sure that shit doesn’t happen again.

Milk’s Music’s four piece ensemble of playful timing and arrangements are as fresh and crisp as ever, so  anyone who was willing to settle for just more of the same will be especially delighted. The guitar solos are as long, rich, and luxurious as one could possibly ask for, and it would not be a complete shock to find out that in the midst of one of these solos, Weezer’s Pinkerton  was played note for note in it’s entirety. The lyrics are both relatable and grande, with some of the tracks telling the story of any our lives, while other tracks speak to you on a mystical scale similar to the likes of Marc Bolan and J.R.R Tolkien.

Milk Music’s latest offering, Cruise Your Illusion, is probably the fourth best album of the year, if only because it’s more poetic to finish just out of the money.

What You’re Listening To In 2012: Thee Oh Sees


You can cover a lot of ground by referring to Thee Oh Sees as that fuzzy, poppy version of The Velvet Underground we’ve all been waiting for. I can highly recommend getting good and soaked on Guinness, to the point where that fine liquid is seeping out your pores, and giving Thee Oh Sees a play as you melt into your furniture.

Thee Oh Sees 2011 release, Castlemania is good, and there 2012 release, Putrifiers II is great. You wont want to share this vast wealth of goodness with anyone, but you’ll feel consumed with guilt if you don’t.