This weekend, we went to Glenwood Springs, Colorado, for a get-a-way. The hot springs and vapor caves wreak of sulphur, and I still smell a bit like a rotten egg, but I'm as mellow as ever. Other highlights of the weekend include Rio margaritas and a rick-shaw ride with my friends Scott and Meaghan, and a trip to Marble (population, 85). Hunter S. Thompson lived in Marble, and it's no wonder why: it's absolutely stunning, free of commercialism, and has all the charm and good heartedness of Cicely, Alaska (a la "Northern Exposure").
Today I'm riding the high of not being overly tied into the commercial aspects of the music business. The actual album came in last Thursday to my parents' house in Rockford, Illinois. Today, the albums are getting mailed out to the fan base who contributed to it. NOWHERE in the making of the album (or now in its distribution) have I had anyone tell me this album needs to be something that it isn't. Being dirt poor is rough, but not answering to anybody is bloody excellent.
This afternoon, I'm using my 3 nearly rotten bananas to make banana bread, and I'm baking to Vetiver's "Tight Knit" album from 2009. This album feels like I've heard it before, in a good way. The songs feel remarkably universal. Most tracks fall somewhere on the happy spectrum, from calm to exuberant. Beautiful from start to finish, the album sets a sweet mood, not unlike early Simon and Garfunkel. They call themselves a "folk" band, but the true genre seems to fall somewhere between indie rock and ambient roots music. Worth a listen.