This blog is actually sort of a sequel to a blog I posted last year called 'What A Gold Membership Can Get You' -- This was of course at a very low point in my life when it seemed like a good idea to join the infamous casual "dating" website, ADULT FRIEND FINDER. (This particular period in my life has a lot to do with the fact that I am NOW making huge credit card payments and abstaining from alcohol... *ahem*) Needless to say, it was a fruitless pursuit (i.e. no one I had any 'interest' in ever emailed me back) and a complete waste of my time. (Read the link to see why.)

I recently joined a free (and far less trashy) dating site called OKcupid. Don't get me wrong -- I'm not banking on finding Mrs. Exempt (or anyone other than people I went to high school with who are now divorced) on some free dating site, but it is an amusing way to pass the time while sitting at home on the weekends enjoying the 'simple pleasures' of my digestive body cleanse regimen. *ahem* I actually almost shit myself when I opened this email:


Please, no offense to the woman in this photo, but this bitch seriously looks like she's about to jump out of the bushes and eat me!  ("Good work, Cupid!")

Sadly, dating websites are the romantic asylums of maladjusted men and insecure girls. The further you step away from the fake cam-whores and the swinger-trash couples, the sadder and more truthful it all becomes -- betrayed single mothers, lonely losers, military men returning to lives of solitude, fat-girl faces at the thinnest possible camera angles... Machines driven by our innate human need... 'to love and to be loved'... or maybe just wanted... by someone.

I turn 30 next year, but I'm not scared. The older I get, the more I come to understand that I'm not afraid of being alone; what I am really afraid of is making a big mistake like getting hitched with the wrong person, having kids, building a life together... and then realizing it was a terrible mistake. I have seen so many crash and burn. We all have.

For now, all I can do is put a smirk on my face and watch it all go by (while, of course, peppering the information belt with my snarky commentary on all matters of sex and love). You know, people really seem to like me more when I just suck it up and smile comfortably. Attitude is contagious, they say.



Love yourself (every night, like I do).

I am a person who often says 'sorry' at inappropriate or unnecessary times, almost as a sort of nervous habit. In addition to this, I also use 'sorry' in the more classical sense: to express sorrow, rather than apology. One such occurrence might sound a bit like this:

Friend: "All my girlfriend ever talks about is how bad she wants to sleep with David Wilson."

Me: "I am sorry."

Friend: "You don't have to apologize, bro. It's not your fault that she needs to turn out the lights and pretend I am David Wilson just so she can have an orgasm."

My friend is assuming that I am attempting to apologize for the fact that Dave Wilson is such a cool, sexy dude. When in reality, I am merely lamenting the fact that my friend is sexually and culturally inferior to Mr. Wilson. I most certainly cannot accept responsibility for Dave's winning smile, hip wardrobe and social popularity.

But this does leave agape the question:

Is there an easy way of saying 'sorry' in an unapologetic way, thus expressing sympathy without the implication of assumed responsibility? Of course this sentiment can be expressed in English, but only in so many words (and usually with other implications attached):

'I sympathize with you', while true to heart, is such a mouthful of syllables;


'I understand' (or 'I can relate'), while often well-intended, can be construed as patronizing, or even snarky;


'That sucks', while truthful and elegantly simple, is completely devoid of sympathy, empathy, or any real sentiment at all.

So then what does one say instead of 'I'm sorry' to express unapologetic sympathy? What I am wondering is if there is a nice phrase for this in a language other than English. There are certain expressions that some languages just do not make provisions for; perhaps this is one such case.

Please advise... or you'll be sorry.

 

EVAN EXEMPT - MIX TAPE #1

(A mix-and-mash of heavy breakbeats, techfunk, tribal and nU rave electro-bangers)

***DOWNLOAD FULL .ZIP PACK HERE***

SIDE A:

SIDE B:

AN ESPECIALLY HUGE THANKS TO ALL OF THE ARTISTS WHO CREATED THIS BADASS MUSIC!! "WOW!!" NOTHING BUT LOVE TO EVERY ARTIST CREDITED!!

- Evan Exempt

***Snatched from the music blog Dance Fever 5000***

As Father and I sat, gnawing at both ends of an Italian footlong from Subway (his choice), I explained to him that a patient had come in while he was away: "Mr. ***** said he looked everywhere -- In the car, the house, the driveway... and just couldn't find them anywhere. He seems to think that the batteries we sold him didn't even make it into his pocket before he walked out of our door. So, I gave him the benefit of the doubt and let him have two replacement packs, for free, since it could have been our mistake. I left a note for the secretary too. "

Father glared over his sandwich at me and said, "People are all liars anymore. He probably lost them."

Taken by his remark, I replied, "You know, in spite of my own tendencies toward cynicism and elitism in the arenas of art and culture, I do possess one thing that you have always struggled with: faith in humanity."

"Wait until you get to be my age," he replied, wryly.

Dear Antytrend:

Thank you for the free copy of Adobe CS3.  I have been very busy harnessing Photoshop's capabilities to render innovative new designs involving my face and... well... letters and stuff.  Attached is the new avatar for my Myspace music page.  Pretty smart looking, eh?  (You know I can't help it.)

Anyway, man.  Be cool and try to stay out of the cookie jar. 

- Evan

www.myspace.com/evanexemptmusic

1337 DECODER for |..|00|35:

A = 4
B = |3
C = (
D = |)
E = 3
F = |=
G = 9 (Suppose to be like a g)
H = |-|
I = 1
J = j (normal since it's dedicated to "j00")
K = |<
L = |_
M = /|/| or |../|
N = /|/ or |..|
O = 0
P = p (normal since dedicated to "pwned") or |0
Q = &
R = |2
S = 5
T = 7
U = |_|
V = ../ (slashes)
W = ../../ (slashes)
X = x (X is already 1337)
Y = %
Z = z (also already 1337)

If anyone is wondering why I do not blog here as much as I used to, it is because I am regularly contributing and assisting with editing duties at a music blog that I share and operate with some friends of mine - Postmusic.org . While our focus is almost exclusively on electronic music, we do make concessions to local bands that have certain elements which might appeal to our reader-base. In the path of Columbia instrumental rock band Coward's CD release show last Thursday, I put together this mid-length editorial piece which was featured in the blog along with a fifteen-minute audio interview (which was pretty damn relaxed, to say the least) that I recorded and edited, personally.

I am sure any print or broadcast journalism professor could tear this stuff apart with a plastic spoon, but it is my reporting and it is from the heart. I am hoping that some of my regular readers and some local fans of Coward who are not familiar with Postmusic.org might be able to appreciate this.

A PRETTY GOOD BAND

SOME THOUGHTS ON COWARD

- By Evan Exempt -

In the back seat of a sedan from last decade, headed north on Creasy Springs Road at the west edge of Columbia, Missouri on a cool, sunny evening in May, talk of burlap bags and razor blades prompts me to ask Nathan and Paul, the band's respective keyboard and bass players, if we are indeed headed to their practice space in the countryside, or if they are just planning to take me out into the woods and kill me. In spite of our warm chuckling, the absence of a straight answer leaves only room to wonder. (Really, I am kidding.)

We pass the old quarry and then the dead man's curve. Paul points to an abandoned house where an independent zombie film was apparently shot. "You can still see where the guy jumped through the window!" He exclaims around a puff of smoke. The abandoned house looks so convincingly thematic, it might as well be a set-piece.

A mile or two later we pull into a gravel driveway where a sweet-faced young man with blond hair and dichotomously imposing tattoos running up the sides of his neck sits, awaiting us. This is Mikey, the band's guitarist and alternate second drummer. He is all hugs, as usual.

We unlock the practice space, which is a tall, simply-designed cabin with a loft, a tiny bathroom, and basic kitchen amenities. Mikey munches a cheeseburger while Paul cleans up some messes from the last practice. Nathan stocks the refrigerator with a couple of packs of beer while I set to fiddling with my camera, sneaking a sip of vodka from my jacket pocket. We hang out for a few minutes and just as the conversation begins to wander out toward the boundaries of absurdity, a small truck barrels into the drive and out hops Cody, the band's drummer.

Parenthetical Editorial *non-essential reading material*
[In a similar situation, bearing the cross of social and artistic responsibility -- You know, pretending to be a music/culture journalist while trying my best to come across as legitimate -- I would probably have been a lot more anxious about my camera settings, interview notes... But the fact is that I just don't feel a whole lot of quasi-professional social neurosis with these guys: I met Nathan in 1996 when each of our respective teenage punk bands (my 'Midget Toss' and Nathan's 'Pastor Paul') played at the Amnesty International benefit against the back wall of the over-crowded Music Cafe (now the Blue Fugue) because the outdoor stage on Campus had been rained out; I made good friends with Mikey during my senior year of high school when we composed a rock-mariachi guitar duet for our final project in Mr. Craig Miller's Music Theory 2; I met Paul even earlier, in 1995 when I showed up at his apartment in some convoluted, misunderstood response to a 'band-mates-wanted' ad that turned out not to even be his; even Cody, the youngest of the group at 25, remembers checking out the Exempt (my old rock band) at basement shows and smoky bars that have since been laid to rest. The point I am trying to drive home is that when you are with a group of people have seen you puke Carlo Rossi through your hand at parties, sing along shamelessly to the Ramones and referee a women's roller derby bout on skates, in a mini-skirt, there's just really no point in worrying about damaging their opinions of you; their minds were made up a long time ago.]

The band-mates take their positions: Cody and Nathan exchange facetious melees from their respective thrones while Mikey tunes his guitar, intently. Paul lights a cigarette and I bug him for a pair of the earplugs I forgot to bring with me; he takes courtesy a step further and hands me his high-sound-pressure attenuation earphones, the kind you might see at a shooting range.

Moments later, the room is flooded with jagged-sharp rhythms and meaty, rolling bass lines; searing synth riffs and dissonant guitar builds... The mood-like, organic groove occasionally diminishes into a contemplative stroll, but invariably escalates again to what I feel to describe as an epic, wordless tale of human triumph and tragedy. This is Coward.

While the members of Coward were understandably reluctant to site specific stylistic musical influences or genre classifications during our interview (eventually resorting to farcical meanderings like "Screeching Weasel cover band" and "break-core"), I do feel obliged as a writer to offer my readers, who may not have access to the media content on the website, a general idea of what Coward sounds like. Coward is an instrumental rock band with an unmistakably heavy tone, though they steer away from the 'metal' dynamic by infusing elements of classic indie-rock, modern jazz and post-punk into skillfully executed (sometimes mathy) compositions which tend to feed on powerful (in some cases, almost tribal) rhythms, fueling a tense harmonic interplay of consonance and dissonance. Some vague musical resemblances that might jump to mind are 90's pre-emo ("premo"?) rock acts like June of 44, Unwound, or early Don Caballero (if you absolutely require a comparison). Though Coward's staple use of synthesizer leads, ambient samples and a diligent focus on the rudimentary elements of groove, power and rhythm give their music an identifiable 21st century flavor.

"...before 'emo' became this weird four-letter word."

- Paul, Coward bassist

Coward's sonic horsepower can be attributed in part to Paul's well-honed bass tone and ample amplification (i.e. little wall o' speakers), and also to Cody's edgy, precise drumming chops. Coward's already robust sound doubles in density when Mikey compliments Cody's patterns on drum set number two -- his default position when not playing guitar. Because of this frequent absence of a guitar in the mix, the keyboard's role is not just melodically ornamental (typical of keyboards in rock bands), but dynamically essential; for this we credit Nathan for rising to the challenge with impressive fluidity, skillfully selecting synthesizer voices that work with the instrumentation in the dual capacities of lead lines and rhythm riffs. Similarly, one of the most remarkable aspects of Paul's bass-work is his ability to delicately straddle and seamlessly transition between a rhythmic emphasis and a melodic emphasis, always optimizing the groove -- an intuitive skill that many bass players struggle with. And while I admire Mikey's ready ability to get behind kit number two and keep pace with Cody's relentless hammering, I do believe the songs where he transfers to guitar actually comprise my favorites -- Sometimes there is just no substitute for strapping on the old six-string and letting it howl! (It sounds like it might be time to clone Mikey... or perhaps invest in a drum machine... or hire me as the second drummer...OK! OK! I'll stop.)

Coward's slim, modestly packaged five-song CD is a solid representation of composition and execution, though it falls short of capturing the depth and intensity that (assuming you have lots of time and money) can be rendered with a professional budget studio project. But, in my opinion, this band's true appeal rests in the rigor of live performance rather than the detail of recorded media -- though I wish Coward success in both! The point I want to land on is that I believe some bands need to be packaged and polished, while other bands simply need to be felt. The Coward sound is wrought with honesty and substance; powerful, yet humane; tumultuous, yet blissful. Give them a listen and you might just hear some of your own loves, fears and experiences ringing through. This is real music about real life, and I like it.

- Evan Exempt

***

(Link below to Coward interview)

***Coward Interview By Evan Exempt - May 2009 - www.postmusic.org***

(Links below to Coward songs)

Coward - "All These Blankets Saved My Life"

Coward - "Here Hold This"

In late 2003 I graduated from a technical media arts college in Central Florida (Orlando area) called Full Sail. (I am not even going to get into how hard I want to kick myself for spending almost thirty grand on a narrowly focused trade-specific associate's degree that is now technologically obsolete, especially since I don't even use it.) Since then, the "college" has adopted a slick pop-culture marketing and advertising angle that even goes so far as to employ sex appeal.






(Yes, that is a nondescript pretty girl who clearly thinks computers and music gear are rad, which certainly falls in line with the interests of young men who might be canditates for Full Sail's Recording Arts degree program - the school's market cash cow.)

(Here is another nondescript pretty girl who clearly digs film production, another one of the degree programs Full Sail offers. Albeit, this is an ad for one of Full Sail's online course offerings, but I think you can see the angle we're trying to work here.)

I just think that this is really funny since Full Sail's student body is about 95% male, and has been since its inception in the late 1970's. I can still remember the way that lone pretty girl (from the film department, no less) in my Media Studies class had to stand outside during break and smoke with twenty glassy-eyed, sex-deprived, backpack-toting, male game-programmers and aspiring hip-hop producers hungrily encircling her, each jockeying for her gaze. Full Sail has even won the moniker 'Full Male' for its notoriously skewed gender demographic, which can be observed at Urban Dictionary. And while I won't go so far as to admit having engaged in gay sexual behavior while I was packed with all those other young men into rows of smelly low-rent housing that stretched out across the humid, life-infested, sub-tropical landscape, I will just say that it was probably a lot like Grandpa's time in the Navy -- "We just don't talk about that anymore."

(However, if anyone wants to email me a Photoshopped Full Sail ad with two navy boys jerkin' each other off in the shower, I am not going to pretend that I don't apprectiate it.)