1 October, 2006, 633 pm
Filed under: Barrels of Fun, Music, School

So two days sans a post. Kinda lonely, isn’t it? My excuse is band, and it’s a pretty valid one. We lost the Hermitage Classic. After a two-year winning streak (Grand Champion, my friend), we didn’t even place. I’m not upset about this. You win some, you lose some. We had to lose something to realize that we are not the best; we’re not the top…we had to know that feeling of not strutting back to the bus to the cadence. Just John Mills telling the band to get in three lines to go back to the bus. The Hermitage Classic wasn’t fun this year, anyway. Normally, Chlorie would force us to set our alarms for 730 or 800, and we’d be at school by 900, practice for two hours, and then head to Hermitage for food, socializing, and band-watching, even when we were normally the last band in our class to perform. I don’t think I realized how much I appreciated that until this year’s Hermitage Classic, where we arrived at school at 200 (closer to 130 though), practiced until 500 or 530, and got an hour to eat dinner at the school, no social time, no eating time if you hadn’t brought food (Rachael and I had assumed we’d have time to eat at Hermitage, so we just brought Sour Patch Kids and Sour Patch Connectors for dinner). I was stressed out without more than an hour of down time. I didn’t get to see one person who I haven’t seen since a fateful January two or three years ago, but that’s probably good, since I probably would have gone on relapse and felt sick to my stomach.

AIDS in a bag

Anyways, my point about this whole band heirarchy (it really is) is that even with extra hours at band camp, pre-band camp, before and after school, and on Saturdays, we can’t beat Pirates or even Spanish Fire. It is a creative approach this year, but seriously, it’s not about the music; it’s about the theme. Why does our guard look like the Partridge family? There’s no theme to match the costumes to. Why are the props big, ugly, unnecessary triangles? There’s not one theme to make detailed, interesting props for (Spanish Fire = fire + villa; Pirates = fog + ships–it’s a formula). Why do we have voiceovers? There’s not a strong enough theme, and the music can’t speak for itself. Why does the pit’s music have such unnecessary runs? Well, I don’t know about that, but I think it has something to do with musicianship. And if we can’t play them yet, after close to three or four months of continual practice, then I don’t think that anyone has the right to cut us out of them; we should attempt for better or for worse, and as Chris Baker speeched to us, “No Regrets.” I probably can’t explain what pissed me off most last night. Just the realization that I was right from the beginning of the season; we’re not a world-class band. As much as some people regret this, we need Mrs. Coldiron back. And I can’t tell you how much we need Herce back. The Ransomes may have thought him to be unprofessional, and maybe too smart for his own good, but consider this: He was more chill, and we got more done with him, plus we liked him, which is a bonus. I honestly think that if the pit and drumline voiced our concerns about working without Herce/working with the spazzy, immature, somewhat unprofessional Mr. Collins and with Mrs. Ransome (wording it more as taking time out of her day out of respect in hopes that we get what we want) and followed through with some sort of a boycott, that we could get what we wanted. I’m not really sure, though, what we want. Because the way I hear it, Herce was the one who quit. I think we want some real percussion instructors.

Well, I’m the one who wrote it. So I’ll take the blows if I get in trouble for taking advantage of the freedom of speech/freedom of the press.

On the bus rides to and fro band competitions, I listen to music as opposed to talking. Normally it’s Bright Eyes (Digital Ash), The Strokes, Rilo Kiley, and sometimes Motion City Soundtrack. I could talk to anyone, but I never feel like it. If E-Dawg and Marty were on my bus, we’d be the loudest, but I feel like band sometimes makes me put on an immature face because often, the only way I can communicate with other people there is through the language of the immature. I don’t really have inside jokes. I have a group of friends, but sometimes I need friends my own age, you know? In band, I’ve isolated myself from that because being from a different middle school background was already hard enough, so I had to use temporary glue to stick myself to the freshmen in my freshman year, at least until the new frosh came. I honestly hate my class, as in graduating class. We’re boring, and everyone’s catty and pre-established, so it’s hard to make new friends. Why do I dip into the pool of underclassmen for friends? Some of them retain a level of maturity that’s higher than average as in maybe a year or two higher, but not so high that they can’t curse or listen to music–much like 30-year-young Kroger-shopping soccer moms. Why don’t I befriend the upper upperclassmen? I don’t know. Intimidation, maybe. Probably not. I probably feel immature myself, based on what I consider fun, and some of my own actions sometimes.

MY POINT ABOUT MUSIC. God, I’m sidetracked this morning. Afternoon. It’s 1220. Last night on the bus, I didn’t listen to any of what I normally did; I listened to Snow Patrol (“Chasing Cars” only), Coldplay, Maria Taylor, Azure Ray, Jenny Lewis…slow songs. Possibly for two reasons. One being that I was lonely, which, I know, contradictory, surrounded by people, but I sort of wanted it to be like that. The other being that, well, I don’t know how to word it. Life’s ironic. When something’s at its best, you know that it’s downhill from there. Like an ice cream cone on a hot summer day. You know it will melt, so you attempt to enjoy it while you can, but once it’s melted, there’s no function to it. You can eat the cone in a try to keep it fun, but it’s a mess. And once you’ve eaten the cone, there’s no point to it. It really is a mess. And it’s like that until you wash your hands and wipe your face off, and then until someone gives you a new ice cream cone, out of complete generosity. Or until you buy one yourself. Vegan ice cream, same concept.

Weird how every simile/metaphor correlates with her.

Coldplay – Yellow

This song made me a little ill, or sad. I am lame sometimes, probably because I listened to the whole thing. It’s an amazing song, but…why did I put myself through it? It’s a bad song for lonely kids.

Stars – The Aspidistra Flies

Also made me a little ill. Because of the lyrics, mainly. “All the umbrellas in London/Couldn’t hide my love for you.” But the piano was what I needed, and it was why I listened to that song.

Coldplay – Fix You

This was the last and certainly not the least. I remember this was Marty’s MySpace song for a while, and I liked it, but only when it was in the 911 movie’s trailer and made me cry (probably when I was PMSing), I downloaded it and fell in love with it. This lyrically and musically summed up last night. How everything felt. How it felt to know the band program is going to suck next year, too, and opening my eyes to the fact that Winter Drumline will suck balls, and Herce’s not coming back, and it honestly doesn’t matter if I get section leader next year, because really…section of what? What kind of an honour will it be to be a leader in this band? And at the same time, I want it because of the leadership it takes. “Stuck in reverse.” Lights guided us home last night. Bus lights, streetlamps. We’d tried our best and not succeeded. I’d gotten what I wanted for the past few days, but certainly not what I needed. I’d loved someone and it had gone to waste. There was nobody to fix us, though, really.

The last pity song, I promise, was Jenny Lewis with the Watson Twins.

Jenny Lewis with the Watson Twins – Melt Your Heart

You really have to listen to the whole song to get it. “It’s like a valentine from your mother; it’s bound to melt your heart.” If you’ve heard it before, you’ll understand, then, why. “When you’re kissing someone who’s too much like you, it’s like kissing on a mirror. When you’re sleeping with someone who doesn’t get you, you’re gonna hate yourself in the morning.” Indeed.

*If you’re looking for downloads, come back later on account of MediaMax is being a little testicular now.

EDIT: Downloads are up. =]

And…an added bonus…this year’s Hermitage Classic (as opposed to the two past years near the top.


4 Comments so far
Leave a comment

Well written. I have yet to write my Band Rant blog, but I’m sure when I do, it will be tirading-esque. Needless to say, I am eternally greatful of you pit-drumline people. The Partridge family is right on, and something that I noticed last night too. Our outfits can’t speak for themselves. Our theme can’t speak for itself, backdrops or not. THe voiceovers do all the work. It’s embaressing. And I also found the whole “Hermatige Classic of Last year” part of your blog SO TRUE. I miss it a lot. But hey, we have ONE more competition! hehh…too bad we’ll probablly end up going at 7 again. It’s like these people dont want band to be fun for anyone..

Comment by Laura

Don’t even begin to ask how I came across yoru site…. I think I like reading it, though. Although I didn’t quite understand whose ‘wordpress’ this was until I saw the youtube. You have an unbelievable amount of pictures that seem random at first glance. =) I think I’ll probably read more, later, though because I have my lovely parents telling me that I should sleep earlier.
By the way, we do work hard, don’t we? Even if everything was PERFECT, we’d still lose because the pictures on the props make almost no sense, but at least, however horrible it might be, the guard uniforms make me laugh. I thought we were doing 007 this year. Gosh… I miss last year.

Comment by Andrew

And by the way, why do we have a commercial as a voice over in the beginning?

Comment by Andrew

Absolutely random, but when I imagine you on the bus, I always imagine it in a cartoon, comical way. You’re in the very back with your head poking out the window and you also have your headphones in and then the bus is a cartoon (more South Park than Magic School Bus), and it shrinks, while you remain the same size, so it looks like you have an oversized head. That was not a metaphor, by the way. You’re a very humble person. It’s just my sad, sad imagination.

Comment by Edawg

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