Free from Freon

We don't have a bar anymore, apparently. Long has it been tread into the ground by Top40. We've become accustomed to its absence, and when someone comes along to pry it out of the ground, digging, and scratching at the dirt encasing it, we yell at them, "Hey, you little punk, put that back!" (queue computer warbling) Of course, New Music often does not help the case of the bar's resurrection. Experimentation for the sake of experimentation leads nowhere. Thrice is labeled under "experimental" on iTunes. I beg to differ. "Experimental" brings to mind the music born from that musical playroom at Expo86, or that drunken one-man-'band' who plays downtown on his "whale-song" synthesizer. Thrice, however, leads a planned experimentation, like how NASA plans flying to Mars: precise and destination-focused. They have uncovered an idea so simple, so beautiful, and so fundamental to modern music that it begs the question, "What the crap have we been tuning to for so long?" The conclusion to their Alchemy Index was drawn a number of weeks ago. I had known this partly because I had followed its completion on the band's website, such an obsession for an album...tome rather, is a rarity for me, and partly because I had worn Vol. 1&2 thin on our player since October. The ultimate idea was to create a four volume collection of songs with each volume depicting an element of nature (fire, water, air, earth). How does a band effectively and convincingly encompass each element without losing their essential sound? They have some how succeeded. Six songs within each volume carve out so much imagery, so much heart-felt emotion, so much thought-provoking lyrical rhythm, it demands to be listened to without distraction, over and over again. I cannot recommend this album enough.

The end is here. It is upon me. But like a giant, black as night, apartment-block sized slug, it appears to be slowly covering everything with its mucus of Last-Minute Paperwork, Mark Collecting, and Sweaty Pants. Inch by inch, soon it will be gone and I will be done and left with slimy tendrils of September Anticipation and Career Regret. At least, like every time at Christmas, I have rediscovered that it IS better to give than receive...hideous exams that is. But my sly grin soon bends to horror as they return their work expecting it to be assessed to the fairest and most accurate degree. And then I pretend to care.

Like a mime pretends to be in a box...with a glazed smile of anxiety and revulsion.