Celebrating Soul in the Silliest

A lighted way we follow. Towards a hill of sorts, with people superior from most upon it. This is only a quick stop on a journey to a time far beyond my generation. Proper credentials are required for such a place, so fetch them we do upon this, hill. A light on racism is granted from a humble colored man and his classical music. We follow their changes in a tortoise paced rhythm along twisted hills and lighted paths. We search out tonight in celebration, specific and metaphoric … to find release. A gangster from the east coast had reached another passage of life, which is rather odd, but worth applause. If you may, now clap in his rejoice, I would be thankful.

We found a point to go ashore and free ourselves from being stricken by restraint. The fresh air was exceptional and our fingertips ignited with flame.  “Ahh, just a short distance now,” he said as we approached an orderly waste! 11:15pm… wretched timing to travel to a time far beyond my generation! Must we stay in this dimension for much longer?! Our throats quenched the nectar of a new mind. The perimeter walls bowed convex from the capacity of similar thoughts as smiles and laughs smeared down the tinted windows. Fun was happening. The neighboring establishment gave us temporary shelter and nectars a’ plenty as our star gate to salvation slowly relieved itself of patrons! Our excitement was now growing like a beanstalk, passing the clouds, ready to climb! Action was taken. The cost of compliance with time travel was $10 a person. I paid and was tagged like the others with ink. Inside, a dim tunnel of bricks echoed with love, we knew that we must make it through and find our destination of destiny!

The vibrations grew more thunderous with each step. My toes started to tingle, then my legs and hips. My fingers felt electric, everything was changing, you could see beyond, you could feel the soul. Endless limbs flailed in discontent from the real world and journeyed into a world far beyond our minds, a world where you can watch the conception of all the sounds floating through the mainstream. We made it! So what now? What do we do with wealth of inspiration and desire, a time immortalized on vinyl, speaking to us face to face? We do the only thing such noble steeds as ourselves may, get completely shit faced and dance our asses off!! Hit me two times!! Soul Nite at the Lo-Fi, peep that shit fools.

Wasted Time

It is a great feeling in a man’s life when he has finished his day of work. Maybe stopped by the market to get a sixer of his favorite brew, and then continued strolling on home to see his wonderful lady and to retire for the evening. On most nights this happens as peacefully and as simply as it sounds, but tonight wasn’t like most nights… Watch Out People!! Cause people are watching you, and every move you make. Tonight I was informed that I was CARELESS!! How could you say such a thing, my smile is cheery and my eyes are bright with care and love you fucking idiot! I’m the silliest boy in the world, a Sultan, but tonight I joined the ranks of suspicious night time J Walkers! OK, this is how it happened; I stepped into the red flashing ‘Do Not Walk’ glair, I checked left, than right, then left… then right. Shit a speeding car, STOP… wait, and continue to cross. I made it to the other side!! That’s when I felt the spot light on the back of my neck like I was laying on a bed at the tanning salon. What the fuck, I thought to myself, turning around to see a young eager SPD officer out of his car demanding me to remain on the curb with my hands in visible sight. At first I believed this could be profiling, I mean my beard makes me look like Osama Bin Brentious the Jewish Mexican! Not this game again I thought to myself as I mentally checked my pockets for any weed I might have… nope clean. Sweet, this should be easy. “Ever been to jail!?” the officer eagerly asked me… I said, “Not really.” He looked puzzled, and I realized a young confused cop is how innocent wood whittlers get killed, so I played the no sir, yes sir game after that… fucker. The officer grabbed my ID, ordered me to sit on the curb, and went back to his car to run my sheet after some questioning. Why were you J walking? It wasn’t intentional. Don’t you know how dangerous it is? A human body in front of thousands of pounds of accelerating steel, or a piece of shit cop and his gun here in Seattle, yes sir, I do know how dangerous both are. What may have been some better options? To stay inside all day and write for my fucking blog so I never get hurt and never realize that stupid shit like this actually does happen! THANKS Officer Obvious, I learned a lot!! Now as a sat on the curb of Mercer and 2^nd Ave W on a Friday night, Ozzy’s blaring with inebriation all around, police lights flashing in my face, the public driving by and judging that dirty bearded boy on the curb, my completely sober brain just laughed and heavily desired a brew from the grocery bag sitting on the curb next to me. Finally Officer Fuck Face emerged from his patrol car utterly disappointed. “I guess you’re right, you have never been to jail.” He granted me permission to take my groceries and have a good night. I stopped and smiled, turned to him and said what many of you may feel the need to tell me after reading my blog… “Thanks for wasting my time!”

Thoughts in a Day…

Another day another dollar

So they say, so we bother.

An essence gone.

Caught hold in the on.

Fanning sweat to leave us cool,

Let it drop, into the pool.

Now, Dilute the water color.

Let the page flutter,

Watch it wave good bye.

Someday come back, say hi.

We’ll be the best of friends,

For ourselves again and again.

So which is to do,

Which is to be?

The which is what clue?

Wobbles top heavy.

They climb the clouds

And topple mounds,

With covered cloaks

Or bottles broke.

Without no meter,

The tot not teeter,

And you fall to the ground.

Who is the Grinderman?

It’s almost as you can hear each tiny scale move individually within their mesh armored exterior. Warriors of passion, with a cause far beyond music, unpompously stiff with poise, icons of the other side.  These guys are cool. I mean James Dean cool. I mean James Dean cool plus they rock the fuck out! They make Ferris Bueller look like the home schooled kid who eats his boogers and pulls his pants down all the way to use the urinal! Yet, it’s got to be more than the classy vintage skinny suits and mustaches. The sweltering crunch of guitars swelling and sweeping through outrageously surreal and intensively real lyrics adds a jackpot of points to the cool scale.

Yes the music is all there, its great music. So great, they have headlined European festivals with the likes of Radiohead, Jay-Z, and Neil Young on stage in front of thousands upon thousands of fans. Fans that have supported the Bad Seeds through 14 albums, countless Cave projects, and now this, Grinderman. Playing a sold out show at the 1,500 capacity King Kat Theater Seattle, WA 98121 during the 2010 Thanksgiving weekend, one could only be stoked to have the opportunity to see Nick and the boys in a theater setting and not the arena sized venue they’re used to playing across the pond. Grinderman released their self-titled debut in 2007, the band consisting entirely of Bad Seed members including Warren Ellis, Martyn P. Casey, Jim Sclavunos, and naturally Nick Cave. 

A King of his own conquest, Nick Cave is by far not just an elite artist, but a performer that hypnotizes the crowed with the intensity of Zeus hurling lightning bolts from the heavens! He tramples the stage like a heard of rhinoceroses from one side to the other,  while sound engineers duck and jive to clear cables, he stairs into each set of eyes he can see from his stage. He embodies you for a moment before he continues on to the next lucky soul. For Mr. Cave must be the Grinderman!  Naturally superior from the world, theories and metaphors could be conducted to his Grinderman-ness.

Yet, I find myself veering sight while Nick tromps to the other side of the crowd, to see the fires of hell erupt from the stage. It was the devil himself, playing a fiddle.  And if this devil went down to Georgia, he would fuck Johnny up! The man named Warren Ellis is a possessed and crazed lunatic of genius proportions.  With a rack of at least ten guitars from electric mandolins, fiddles, 4 and 6 string guitars, and a pedal-tropolis of effects below, Satan erupted in flames from the beginning. My mind was ultimately perplexed at the sight, needless to say, it was awesome. Even Nick, after decades of friendship and work, gave Ellis a look of “what the fuck!?” during a few tripped out guitar solos, shredding his bow into strands of what must have been the mane of a unicorn. Seeing his face is like reading the deepest, most interesting, and insightful novel. He seeps passion. Yes, it is true; I believe Warren Ellis himself is the Grinderman.

Together all the boys played a show that was by far the most charismatic performance I have ever witnessed.  Luckily, Mr. Cave has a wonderfully obsessed cult following across the United States, with a large portion residing besides me here in Seattle, so the likelihood of seeing either the Bad Seeds or Grinderman in your northwest future seems promising. Unless of course the entire 2012 thing is correct then we’re all fucked. Well, except for Warren Ellis… he is the Grinderman!


Check out Grinderman.com for more!

Welcome all you BEAUTIFUL People!

The mayhem of the mix... we are all in it. You gots to be in it. The difference is getting stuck, teetering out of balance, between the swirling sharp blades of suffering and happiness. People for centuries have dealt with this in a multitude of ways both ridiculous and genius, religious and spiritual, many with great outcomes, many with poor. I chose rather to adventure through the universal unknown by jumping in my mind, swimming through my brain, and collecting the antidotes and recollections of the past. Not to string together a Jabberwocky of ideas, for this has been done!  But, to accomplish the ultimate goal of millions of creators, a brand new idea. Join me in a quest of love and romance, adventure and drama, comedy and conquest. Characters of beyond and below. Life as it is and how it affects us. Life as it isn't and how silly it all can be! Together we may even find an idea which no intelligence has ever pondered, and to find that, well, we must be... Unintelligent! At that note, let me be the first to welcome you to the Unintelligently Intellectual world of the one and only Styles Bentley.