Showing posts with label reel big fish. Show all posts
Showing posts with label reel big fish. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 27, 2013

Reel Big Fish "Sell Out"

I remember being 30 years old and going to the Warped Tour.

Looking around, I wagered that I was roughly twice the age of the average attendee.

But I loved the festival and I loved the day.  You'd see 30 punk bands plow through a dozen songs each in their allotted 30 minutes of stage time.  You'd see a few "name" bands, a few mid-level bands and a few bands you'd never hear of.

I remember looking around the festival, at age 30, knowing that I was enjoying the show as much as any teenager.  But also aware that there would probably come a day when I didn't want to go to the Warped Tour.

I happened upon this year's Warped line up, and was horrified.

Of the 30 or so bands on the bill, I'd only heard of one of them.

And the only band I'd heard of, last had a hit over 15 years ago.

So while I could go to an all-day punk rock show, and see one fun nostalgic ska-pop band while being thrice the age of the average attendee . . . maybe I'll just use my AARP discount to get the Early Bird Special.


Hear the song on Youtube.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

The Beatles "Being For The Benefit Of Mr. Kite"

When my wife was pregnant with our daughter, we went through dozens, hundreds of ideas for a name. There was a period where we really wanted to name her after a Beatles song, somehow.

We ran through the many many choices for a Beatles-themed name:

Prudence
Lucy
Sadie
Pam
Eleanor
Julia
Martha
Michelle
Abbey

But none of them seemed right. We ended up dropping The Beatles theme.

Around that same time, we got a fish. A blue Beta fish. And I guess we just wanted to complete that thought of using a Beatles song for a name.

So we named him Mr. Kite.

And for the last 2 ½ years, he’s quietly made his home on the mantle in the living room.

But tonight, I came home, and the fishbowl was next to the sink. Washed out and emptied of his little fish rocks.

I can’t say I knew him well. It’s not like he was a snuggly puppy with a big personality or anything. But he was a part of our lives. And at some point our daughter---who has known Mr. Kite for her whole life---will probably ask where the fish is. It was one of her special treats, to be lifted up, so she could give him a little food. I looked forward to the day when she could take on pet care as her responsibility. But that task will have to be for another pet.

So this post is for you, Mr. Kite. Thanks for being a benefit to our lives.

-------------------

I actually wrote that post early in the summer.

I'd come home to an empty house, saw the empty fishbowl, and wrote out my feelings.

Later, I was making something to eat, and my wife called. She and the kids were spending the day at my mother-in-law's house. She chatted about her day, and the kids and their plans and what we might be doing on the weekend and . . .

"Is there something you want to tell me?" I asked, a little indignantly

"Uh. About what?" She seemed genuinely confused.

"About Mr. Kite?"

"What about him?"

"That he's gone?!?!"

"Oh Honey, No!"

She felt awful.

Earlier in the day, she had decided that Mr. Kite, after two-plus years on the mantle, needed a change. So she got a nice vase, and make that his new home, and then put the vase in our daughter's room, so she could enjoy seeing him from her bed.

He wasn't dead, just relocated.

So I put that post aside.

Do you know that often, newspapers will write the obituary of someone famous who is old or in ill health, before they have died? It gives them a chance to do research and have the obituary ready to go, when the celebrity actually dies. And occasionally, those premature obituaries get published?

Thankfully, "Mr. Kite" was not described as "The UK's favorite grandmother."

Sadly, Mr. Kite died for real, last night. His bowl is in the kitchen, out of site, obscured by a box of cereal, until we are ready to talk to our daughter about it.

She's innocently sitting across the living room from me, watching "Curious George." And I'm wishing for all the world that I didn't have to have this conversation with her.

But, as much as we'd like to, there are some things that you can't postpone anymore . . .



Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Reel Big Fish “Everything Sucks”

Hitting Random on the iTunes list . . .

This is the sound of 1996 calling. Ska. Silly. Ironic. Ironic. And Ironic.

I enjoyed the mid-90s ska revival like I enjoy barbecue chicken. A little sauce on the meat on a hot summer day tastes delicious.

But hearing this track today, was a little like swallowing a big ladle of barbecue sauce, without the context of the chicken.

In the 90s, when bands exciting young bands paved the path to pushing away the over-serious excesses of hair metal, U2 and classic rock, part of the groups charging forward used irony and sarcasm as their weapons against self-importance. And things became drenched in irony.

“Everything Sucks” wasn’t just a song, it felt like a mantra meant to take the piss out of what the musical movement was against, as well as the movement itself.

The only problem was that there WERE bands like Nirvana---who might have used a dash of irony---who didn’t feel like the punk-based-rock they were performing wasn’t weighted with a serious message.

I saw Reel Big Fish at a Warped Tour stop in Atlanta. They had to follow Social Distortion, lead by the glowering, bad-to-the-f’ing bone Mike Ness, who’s neck bulged with tattoos and lyrics brimmed with righteous anger. And then Reel Big Fish came out with Day-Go shorts and beach balls and songs about “Doin’ The Fish,” and somehow, somehow, they seemed pretty inconsequential.

Fun, but no more than a little bit of sauce on the meat of the era.



See the very 90's music video for this song, here

Buy the Reel Big Fish album, "Turn The Radio Off"