Or uNgrained, as the case may be.
Which happens to be my brother's new band.
Which happens to have it's very first live show tonight.
I had bit of, shall we say, prodding earlier this afternoon that reminded me of why I even have this blog. And I realized this would be a great event to chronicle.
So it is the afternoon before, we have tried on outfits and I am currently listening to him, and I quote "Scare the fuck out of the neighbors" while he warms up a bit.
Keep in mind, it has been well over year since he was on stage last. So I am not sure right now if this is nerves or excitement or a bit of both. Either way, I know he feels differently about this musical path than any of the other ones so far.
I just remember being in maybe 7th or 8th grade myself and walking with him to his first guitar lessons with Richard Jesse at the music place downtown. Surrounded by instruments, he clearly got all the genetics to play the damn things. He can pick up or sit down to any fucking instrument and just get it. I can't say that I didn't give it a go or two or three...but I got something else out of growing up with this kind of person.
That "something else" has absolutely gotten me to where I am now and where I want to always be - which is surrounded by creators.
Back to the present though...I have fully charged camera batteries and two 63 minutes HD tapes ready to go. That is my role in this - to make sure that, while I am sure we will all never forget this night, that we really actually don't have a choice to forget it.
So for now, I am going to fall into "watch it all go down" mode and I will check back in later with the footage.
Behind both the lens and the scenes tonight...
4/3/10
2/16/10
What ifs and...a year of Movement
We all have those "what if" moments, right?
I don't even need to describe it.
If you are human, you know exactly what I am talking about.
We all have many "What if" moments, but there are some that are big and important and directional.
Today is the one year anniversary one of the biggest "what if" moments in my life.
What if I had never had a massive nervous breakdown on Valentine's Day weekend '09...
What if I had never decided to just pack up my shit and drive to Nashville to see JTNL - again...
What if i had never stayed after their way too short set to see the next band...
Then I would have never met The Movement.
The "what if" list that follows that statement could seriously and sincerely go on for a really long time.
But the whole thing means way too much to me to list it all.
In summary, I have lost myself, found myself, found some amazing friends, experienced music like I never have before and ended up changed for the better.
I can name several very important events in my life that would have never happened if I had never met this band.
So while I may be just "that girl with the camera that really likes The Movement an awful lot", they mean so much more to me than "the band that's in front of my lens."
Thank you guys.
One love always...
I don't even need to describe it.
If you are human, you know exactly what I am talking about.
We all have many "What if" moments, but there are some that are big and important and directional.
Today is the one year anniversary one of the biggest "what if" moments in my life.
What if I had never had a massive nervous breakdown on Valentine's Day weekend '09...
What if I had never decided to just pack up my shit and drive to Nashville to see JTNL - again...
What if i had never stayed after their way too short set to see the next band...
Then I would have never met The Movement.
The "what if" list that follows that statement could seriously and sincerely go on for a really long time.
But the whole thing means way too much to me to list it all.
In summary, I have lost myself, found myself, found some amazing friends, experienced music like I never have before and ended up changed for the better.
I can name several very important events in my life that would have never happened if I had never met this band.
So while I may be just "that girl with the camera that really likes The Movement an awful lot", they mean so much more to me than "the band that's in front of my lens."
Thank you guys.
One love always...
2/5/10
"Look like you belong..."
Take what you want from this. But this has been one of my favorite "go to" pieces for years now, for the last paragraph and last line alone. Enjoy. Learn. Give new music a chance...
xo,
Ash
Courtesy of Rolling Stone 922 - Cameron Crowe - May 15, 2003
http://www.cameroncrowe.com/journalism/articles/crowe_jrl_backstagepass.html
The Backstage Pass
It doesn't necessarily mean you're with the band
My first pass was supposed to be at the artists' gate at the San Diego Sports Arena. The concert featured Yes and Black Sabbath, and I was stranded outside with a tape recorder for many hours, waiting for a road manager to appear with my name and then escort me back to interview the opening band, Wild Turkey. The backstage gate was guarded by an angry, scrawny man in a yellow-checked jacket, who took great delight in telling me that my name was not on the list, never would be, and I was to "go to the top of the ramp with the other girls." Not that I will remember that menacing guard or his name for the rest of my life (Scotty!), or even the name of the kind concert promoter who eventually took pity on me (thank you, Larry), but I did re-create a version of this scene in the movie Almost Famous to help exorcise the lingering pain. And it was Larry who knew the power and the iconography of the backstage pass when he finally pulled a stack from his pocket, withdrew one and handed it to me with great aplomb, bestowing a key to the castle with simple advice. "Put it in plain view," he said, "and look like you belong."
There are unspoken traditions that accompany the hallowed backstage pass. First, though you are always advised to place it prominently on your person, never place it too prominently. There must be a careless take-it-or-leave-it air to the location of your sticky-pass. Never place it in any obvious or prideful position, and always avoid any place a conventioneer might display a name tag. This garish display is reserved for the girlfriends of DJs or the parents of the artist. Best location: upper-right thigh, where a jacket might partially conceal it. This allows you to nonchalantly reveal the pass to any curious security guard and hide it from envious fans in an audience, who sometimes rip and run. Larry's prophetic words still apply. "Look like you belong" means, essentially, never expose your thrill of being in the rarified world of backstage life. Assume a pleasant, though ho-hum, demeanor as you step over cables, stroll casually past video cameras filming for MTV or bump into Brad and Jennifer. Which brings us to another unspoken backstage tradition. And this is important. Aggressively avoid looking at the actual stars of the evening. A casual peripheral glance is fine, but given the choice of staring directly at a gorgeous Gwen Stefani in full stage attire or the nearby exit sign, there is no contest. The exit sign wins. And the interest you show in any object or person other than Gwen adds to your mystique, and increases the odds that Gwen might speak to you. Such are the complex dictums that govern all that flows from the coveted backstage pass.
Cameron's First Backstage Pass
The original sticky-style backstage pass lives on, of course, but it has spawned many siblings. The bigger the tour and the larger the road crew, the more ornate the selection of styles and levels of access. A Paul McCartney or U2 tour will employ lanyards, clip-ons and various colors of hospital-style wristbands, sometimes featuring special artwork provided by the artists themselves. These boutique passes are designed to vector guests into many different stations of importance. One colored pass might send you into a room full of international journalists, another might introduce you to the artists' relatives. One more thing to remember: Even if you have been given the ultimate status pass -- the all-access pass -- you must never, repeat, never, go onstage with the band unless invited by the band members themselves. Many have stumbled on this last step to greatness and found themselves swiftly whisked back to the cheese trays with the international journalists.
There is another, slightly more sordid style of backstage pass. This pass, made famous by the hair bands of the Eighties, is actually a secretly coded sticker given solely to groupies or potential groupies. The wearer may never fully know the special significance of the colorful or cryptic pass they've been given by a friendly roadie. But a band member spotting this pass will know exactly what it means -- she's single, she's probably available, and her date has been vectored to another room with the international journalists.
And if all this gets too confusing, just go discover a brand-new band, playing a small club, before it's even designed its first sticky-pass. You'll find no assistants, no bodyguards, no palace-level security. Walk in that unguarded door and tell 'em you love their music.
Just remember one thing: Look like you belong.
xo,
Ash
Courtesy of Rolling Stone 922 - Cameron Crowe - May 15, 2003
http://www.cameroncrowe.co
The Backstage Pass
It doesn't necessarily mean you're with the band
My first pass was supposed to be at the artists' gate at the San Diego Sports Arena. The concert featured Yes and Black Sabbath, and I was stranded outside with a tape recorder for many hours, waiting for a road manager to appear with my name and then escort me back to interview the opening band, Wild Turkey. The backstage gate was guarded by an angry, scrawny man in a yellow-checked jacket, who took great delight in telling me that my name was not on the list, never would be, and I was to "go to the top of the ramp with the other girls." Not that I will remember that menacing guard or his name for the rest of my life (Scotty!), or even the name of the kind concert promoter who eventually took pity on me (thank you, Larry), but I did re-create a version of this scene in the movie Almost Famous to help exorcise the lingering pain. And it was Larry who knew the power and the iconography of the backstage pass when he finally pulled a stack from his pocket, withdrew one and handed it to me with great aplomb, bestowing a key to the castle with simple advice. "Put it in plain view," he said, "and look like you belong."
There are unspoken traditions that accompany the hallowed backstage pass. First, though you are always advised to place it prominently on your person, never place it too prominently. There must be a careless take-it-or-leave-it air to the location of your sticky-pass. Never place it in any obvious or prideful position, and always avoid any place a conventioneer might display a name tag. This garish display is reserved for the girlfriends of DJs or the parents of the artist. Best location: upper-right thigh, where a jacket might partially conceal it. This allows you to nonchalantly reveal the pass to any curious security guard and hide it from envious fans in an audience, who sometimes rip and run. Larry's prophetic words still apply. "Look like you belong" means, essentially, never expose your thrill of being in the rarified world of backstage life. Assume a pleasant, though ho-hum, demeanor as you step over cables, stroll casually past video cameras filming for MTV or bump into Brad and Jennifer. Which brings us to another unspoken backstage tradition. And this is important. Aggressively avoid looking at the actual stars of the evening. A casual peripheral glance is fine, but given the choice of staring directly at a gorgeous Gwen Stefani in full stage attire or the nearby exit sign, there is no contest. The exit sign wins. And the interest you show in any object or person other than Gwen adds to your mystique, and increases the odds that Gwen might speak to you. Such are the complex dictums that govern all that flows from the coveted backstage pass.
Cameron's First Backstage Pass
The original sticky-style backstage pass lives on, of course, but it has spawned many siblings. The bigger the tour and the larger the road crew, the more ornate the selection of styles and levels of access. A Paul McCartney or U2 tour will employ lanyards, clip-ons and various colors of hospital-style wristbands, sometimes featuring special artwork provided by the artists themselves. These boutique passes are designed to vector guests into many different stations of importance. One colored pass might send you into a room full of international journalists, another might introduce you to the artists' relatives. One more thing to remember: Even if you have been given the ultimate status pass -- the all-access pass -- you must never, repeat, never, go onstage with the band unless invited by the band members themselves. Many have stumbled on this last step to greatness and found themselves swiftly whisked back to the cheese trays with the international journalists.
There is another, slightly more sordid style of backstage pass. This pass, made famous by the hair bands of the Eighties, is actually a secretly coded sticker given solely to groupies or potential groupies. The wearer may never fully know the special significance of the colorful or cryptic pass they've been given by a friendly roadie. But a band member spotting this pass will know exactly what it means -- she's single, she's probably available, and her date has been vectored to another room with the international journalists.
And if all this gets too confusing, just go discover a brand-new band, playing a small club, before it's even designed its first sticky-pass. You'll find no assistants, no bodyguards, no palace-level security. Walk in that unguarded door and tell 'em you love their music.
Just remember one thing: Look like you belong.
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