ABSRDST’s last album, Home Sweet Home, was a montage of soundscapes interfused with a range of moods – like going on a tour across Earth, but the Earth isn’t Earth, it’s Jack’s mind. There were blizzards on Antarctican wastes, the overload of senses. There was a gentle rain patter in the South American jungle – tranquility with every drip off the leaf tip. And scary things, angry things, when the gold of the African savannah turns black and then red. And hangin’ in the deep sea abyss. With the freaks. Lastly, speed up and out of atmosphere and orbit in lazy circles near the edge where the air runs out. The album did a great job conveying who Jack was, as a whole, at that point in time.

Home Sweet Home was released on July 12^th. Since then, the ABSRDST has moved to the city, to Lowell, leaving behind the woods. He walks where factory ghosts can see him, and has both been fully assimilated into the UMASS community, and also soaked up the school and city into his own creative wellspring. He is happier, less isolated, and it shows. One thing hasn’t changed with time, he continues to push the envelope in regards to work ethic. There is a new release, Sugar Blossom and the Space Cadets, only 2 months after his last. With this new album, Jack has blasted us off Earth, into entirely galactic territory: a concept album, a loose narrative of the cosmic. It chronicles Sugar Blossom, Star amongst the stars, a stellar singer, and her Space Cadets, her backing band.

The album’s description on ABSRDST’s BandCamp is as such: “Sugar Blossom and the Space Cadets is a story about a beautiful songstress and her band who find themselves marooned in space after a bad show on Space Station Z. Sugar Blossom doesn’t know that the Space Sadets are in love with her, but as supplies run low and emotions run high, things start to fall apart.” A rumor has been started regarding a literary representation of the album, but so far no writer has come forward publicly, no adaptation has seen the light of day. So, each listener is left to interpret the album themselves, write their own story of Sugar Blossom and her Space Cadets. Don’t get too heady though, you’ll still need to dance.

The title track is the first song on the album, and the first of a few with drum n’ bass in their gene pool. It is break-neck and euphoric. This is not the same ABSRDST who on Home Sweet Home would often wallow in atmospheric oddness and melancholy. It practically achieves manic status, the energy is so high. Speaker pulse, heart thump, heart THUMP, let the feet move, betting the eyes roll to the tops of sockets. Play this song, and there may be unbridled wild abandon. Maybe mania isn’t such a bad thing, it certainly isn’t in the ABSRDST’s case – how else would you explain the rate at which he produces? In only a handful of months, he’s released 2 albums, and at the time of this review’s writing, has just released Rigby Wearing Shades, a new EP.

Whack….whack…..whack. What? Exploding Head Syndrome will smack you in the face sonically, time and time again. What is that sound? Is that a reverse snare? Whatever it is, the twos and fours evoke a person making bruises on another person. Making it four to the floor, the ones and threes are there too, albeit with less kinetic weight. Forehead barrage aside, the aggressive song title is really a misnomer. It would appear that this song is the kind that stays quarantined in a special playlist on iTunes, only released on “angry days”. Not so, it’s really quite amiable, like gang of friends walking down a boardwalk, rays so bright, lacquer shine, the scene is all sun. Big confident strides. Ocean to the left, beach balls bounce, nick knacks to right with a burger joint. Oh, and an Arcade? Yes, please. This song is a chip off the old block, emphasis on the CHIP. It’s got a synth straight out of the cartridge. But Exploding Head Syndrome, in terms of intricacy, carries the torch, and then some.

Smiles and virtuosic complexity – a pairing featured extensively on Sugar Blossom, and once again in Mystery Masterson. The track delivers on intrigue, but it’s a fun sort of intrigue, like that which is experienced by children in a game of hide and seek. The seeker finds the first kid whose hiding place sucks, then another, then the one under the bed, the anticipation and fun grows with every new find, peaking when victory is only one “Aha!” away. The beat in Mystery Masterson is a mixture of glitchy military-style snare hits and afro-rhythm, with a segment of slow drum n’ bass. The center stage synth ascends and descends expressively. Almost bluesy, with plenty of staccato punch, it’s reminiscent of someone rockin’ it right on a line of black and white keys.

Loss of Loved Ones is a plodding House track. It isn’t sad so much as it is heavy, it’s foundation arpeggio slow and deliberate. The solid hook repeats over and over again, pretty much consistently throughout the whole song, the biggest changes being a cloak of swirling effects. For 6:08 minutes, the grim yet stoic melody is driven home. But, the North to the South, the yang to the yin, the sweet to the salty, a soft side is there. Light scribbles, wisps of cloud, dodging cumulous and plinking bells. As far as choice of samples, The ABSRDST takes a quick time-travel trip to his last album, two months ago. He brings back from Home Sweet Home the caress of the Giving Tree.

Kurloz (Let None Live), has melodia shades that you would more expect to fit the title of the previous song; haunting and beautiful. Kurloz manipulates tension in two different ways: Fast paced drum n’ bass and a dark, emotional melody. In a novel, it’s that protagonist turned villain that you still have feelings for – she/he has given into their evil nature, but those glimmers of regret snap the reins that are your hear stings. If used in a movie soundtrack, Kurloz’ would appear as the climax starts. The setting and rising action are over, people know what’s going on, the main character might finally come to terms with some atrocity or betrayal, but now, it’s time to diffuse that f*cking bomb, or to start going hard in the paint with an uzi. When all is said and done shoot a corpse for fun. Think classical music mixed with drum n’ bass, but with chip-fuzzy electro.

Blood Letting stabs with insistent repetition – kind of like nagging. The song goes and goes, and while it always falls back on the musical equivalent of a red strobe, it sidewinds through a couple of aural scenes: Something lurking in the burgundy murk, torture-pain pitch-rising, and weird bubble poppings, a whole dissonant circus of them. Often, this is a song for machines, people of the future, dystopian cafes where the cigarette has long since been replaced with something new and more exciting. But wait…a flower, time-lapse slow, pokes it’s head out of the snow of emotional lows for a quick bridge…but then withers, and the song is back to wagging its finger at you. And then… its over. Blood Letting’s repetition creates almost a hypnotic effect. The song seems short, but it’s not, it’s average, just below 3:00.

Court Date harkens back to a Home Sweet Home constant– that eyebrow furrowing yet oddly entrancing blend of absurdity and nostalgia. Back in the day? Oh, we’re going way back. Nursery effervescent, the melody of an impulsive child, Jack reaches into a his samples folder like it’s a glowing pile of toys in a toy box…. and pulls something out. Choochoo! Listen close and hear a little locomotive run circles in your skull, go for a ride at the end. Court Date is all about that slow house and the sound of the pint-sized train actually holds the quarter notes beat a bit at the end.

On an album described conceptually to be a space drama, Eureka is truly the spaciest. Sure, all of Sugar Blossom’ has a futuristic vibe, and chip-tune is by nature exaggeratedly artificial, but Eureka takes the cosmic cake. The snare on the 2′s and 4′s has some serious reverb. Real-world reverb only occurs with large empty spaces, like in a church. What’s more massive and empty than the inky black infinite? The rapid and overtly positive arpeggios are like the shimmering of starlight refracting off planetary rings. The name Eureka could not be more appropriate for this track. There is that build up of anticipation when deep thinking is about to bear fruit – and then BOOM, the Eureka moment. After, comes the celebration of accomplishment. Grandiosity in electronic music is overdone, and often, done poorly. But Eureka succeeds, and because of that, it is one of the best tracks on the album.

At first listen, Affection is directionless and plain strange. It doesn’t really go anywhere, that is, until you listen closely and dial up the magnification, so to speak. Spin, click – 100x A secret world of the melodic microbial; bumping around, and just feeling, just feeling, man. Sounds are in focus, lightly dancing along the rim of the ear canal, then out of focus. Poof. But they might come back in frame. In Affection, there is a lot going on, but all the different parts are social, they interact with each other. It ain’t a hit, but it is a testament to Jack’s attention to detail and ability to engineer a subtly cohesive song.

For those 30 years old and under – remember back…your a kid, flipping through the channels, searching, then you strike gold. You get pumped, jump up, “Jump-jump-jump!” On the cathode ray is Legend of the Hidden Temple. If you grew up in the 90s and say you don’t like Legend of The Hidden, you are a liar. You. Are. A. Liar. What was your favorite team? Silver Snakes? Red Jaguars? Green Iguanas? The first half of the title of Sugar Blossom’s 10^th song is ironic – Keep it Low Key(Defend The Hidden Temple). Quite the opposite of “Low Key”, the song is as if the pent up envy of a generation who watched some lucky kid fumble with a shiny monkey puzzle was released in one fell torrent. ELECTRO-GRIND. True to the temple theme, the main synth is Egyptian and exotic.

Similar to Affection, With Every Breath(Rachel) is an oddball track. According to the artist, it was originally meant for a character in a video game made by a friend, but instead developed into an ode to a family member. The tone expressed by its synth is nonsensical and lighthearted and a friendly afro-rhythm accompanies. At the end of the song, something unexpected happens. There is a fade out. Music comes back, but it’s a different song, prettier. Just sneaks right in for 20 seconds.

The base beat in Karkat sounds like the drummer of a stadium rock band wailing on his skins, but playing hip-hop. You gotta hold back from saying “epic” these days, a word that has now been reduced to another “awesome”, or even the long since fallen“great”. But to label Karkat any other word wouldn’t be doing it justice. It is epic. Like Eureka, it succeeds at trying to be larger than life. And yet, a tenderness is occasionally present. This is a theme of Jack’s, dichotomy; fire and ice, the blending of extremes. It’s a theme heard on Loss of Loved Ones, in Blood Letting and Kurloz, to an extent, and it’s heard here.

Bonus is not a banger, it’s the banger. To date, it is probably the best club song ABSRDST has ever made. Modern Electro-House, simultaneously crunchy and wild, it’s in the vein of The Bloody Beetroots. Most of the time, in EDM, tempo increase correlates with an intensity one. Bonus, one the other hand, slows down about half way through – quantity over quality. Regarding the song, the following story is too good not to tell. According to the ABSRDST, “I was at Savers, in the parking lot, the day after I made it. I played Bonus and a car alarm went off. So, I moved spaces. There was a family in the van I parked next to. There was this little girl, she heard the song, and started dancing.”

Past ABSRDST music has had classical-sensibilities, but Sugar Blossom takes this to a new level. Comparing it to some of his old work is like comparing 24-bit colors to 16-bit. The songs are almost symphonic in their complexity and melodic intervals. All throughout the album are synths that sound like strings, horns, and most often, classical piano. Fangs is a quintessential ABSRDST song, with chip influence, a four to the floor beat, plenty of arpeggios, and a catchy melody. Pretty standard. But it also belongs to this new breed of song, the pixelated orchestra. The Beethoven of bit? Chopin of chip? Possibly.

With Jack’s songs, it’s sometimes hard to make a decision on whether not one is “good”, or “bad”, because every musical choice he makes is so purposeful. Songs like With Every Breath(Rachel) and Affection aren’t weird due to lack of skill on the artist’s part. They are weird because Jack wanted them to be weird. High Five Ghost is another such track, There is no doubt, these songs won’t speak to the lay-listener, particularly people who stick to predictable composition hand-fed melodies a-la 94.5 or Kiss 108, if you live around Boston. Give eccentric track like these some time, a couple listens, and one sees in them the individuality of the artist, and admires the musicianship needed tread off the beaten path and head to bizarre lands.

There are ABSRDS expeditions, and then there are brief forays – strange sound choices, bubbles, birds, choochoo trains. Jack employs these noises almost cinematically. American radio has been called the “theater of the mind”; stations are long-time maestros at pulling just the right levers in the listener’s imagination. Lacking the visual aspect of their broadcasting competitor, radio makes excessive use of sound samples to support their narratives: doors slamming, ice cream cone slurps, wind in the trees. Jack is doing the same in with music, not merely using a sample as a goto transition between the buildup and the drop, but fully integrating it into a song as one with the harmony and the rhythm. Synesthetic director.

On Sugar Blossom’, sometimes a song will hint at something with a subtle motif, only for it to suddenly take over. It’s like when you strain your eyes ,you can see the trail of the firework just before the kaleidoscopic “Pop!”. Other times, fleeting, a hook or melody will about-face, or take it’s face off, to reveal someone slightly different underneath, but only for a little while. The last track Please Don’t Die is kinda like that. It’s funny, if played by a traditional rock band, it would probably make a great indie rock track. And then, it supernovas with harmony; a real outpouring. Sugar Blossom as an album, but in particular moments like these, stimulates imagination and speculative thoughts – “What if?”.

What if the whole song was like this? What if the ABSRDST is in fact legally insane? What if he just drops out of the game, picks up an arbitrary hobby? What if he continues on the path he has begun with Sugar Blossom and the Space Cadets? From Home Sweet Home to the new album there are two noticeable changes. One, is the increase in the level in skill. Like previously mentioned, the songs are almost symphonic in the detail of their construction. Two, what if he continues to become more accessible? It is possible to be quirky while at the same time approachable, and with this release, ABSRDST is starting to find the groove. What lies in the future? According to the ABSRDST, an EP, titled Xhip Quim in the spring, and believe it or not, a spot on the compilation album World 1-2 next to Grammy nominated composer Anthony Wintory, the genius behind the music of PS3 game Journey. Could the tipping point be near?

What if?

Listen to Sugar Blossom and the Space Cadets.

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Album art by DKSTR]

Identity, or, lack there of, is the core theme of ABSRDST’s debut release, titled Home Sweet Home. The man, whose real name is Jack Van Oudenaren, said in a recent interview that he spent a long time trying to mimic other producers. “[This}album is a parody of who I am; a sampler, a copycat, overly sentimental and my own best friend.” Bits and pieces are familiar, a little Clams Casino here, a little Death Grips there, but the influences and musical role models have all been mashed together and synthesized anew to the point of being mostly indistinguishable. All the inspiration is filtered through the ABSRDST, who like a prism has split it into 22 songs of a variety of hues. Home Sweet Home, born of IDM, bit-music, hip-hop, dance, and more, paints a stark portrait of it's creator. This is a contradiction of sorts. In a way, the album's lack of identity is an identity in itself, consistent in it's inconsistency, reflecting an artist whose nature is truly amorphous. Home Sweet Home is Jack laying it all out, the black, the white, technicolor in between, the contradiction, everything.

At 39 seconds, the first track, Divorce, is more an intro than a song. But it acts as a aural foundation, both eluding to, and building the listener up for the music to come. WARNING: FOR SOME PEOPLE, THE FOLLOWING TRACKS WILL EVOKE NOSTALGIC MEMORIES OF VIDEOGAMES LONG SINCE PLAYED – memories of headbutting questionable boxes, mushroom power-ups, bloody fatalities, battling a rainbow's worth of ninjas through time, and of course, the ubiquitous sound a cartridge makes when you blow the dust out of it.

For gamers of the 90's, parts of Home Sweet Home will sound similar to what they heard as kids while button mashing in front of Segas, SNESs, and N64s. Music influenced by video-games, particularly that of the first couple console generations, is refereed to as bit-music, or “chip-tune”, and is an integral part of ABSRDST's sound. There is no doubt that this genre is not accessible to everyone – luddites for example. The Unibomber probably wouldn't appreciate it, neither will those who abhor synth.

Open Itunes...select the first song on Home Sweet Home. Press play. The hero bursts through the castle doors. Ahead, are stairs, leading into gloom. Directed forward with a thumb jerk, he raises his sword and proceeds. Step by step, the darkness thickens, until a startling moment when the scene is illuminated by the ghosts pouring from the walls and hack and slash ensues. That is the gaming representation of Divorce.

While the intro is suspenseful and haunting, the next track, Casey's Quest, is all intrepid sunshine. Imagine the hero surfing rapids, chopping crocs, and dodging lazy arcs of flying piranha. With a fast BPM, major-key stylings, and more than a couple drum rolls, this song beams.

The two songs are virtual time capsules, the third one on the album, Arcane Bits and Pieces, is a play on a modern house banger. Evidence of an oscillator, the synths are raspy, they surge over a four-to-the-floor beat. Chip-tune influence manifests in little flourishes, arpeggios of blips and beeps. Home Sweet Home is diverse, and while some songs are better suited for solitude, there are a handful that are certified Club-Friendly, the first of which is this.

Three songs deep brings the listener to the innocuous Stuffed Animal whose title is misleading – think not of a bedside buddy, cloth stuffed with cotton, but of a beast, belly stuffed with flesh. This song has got bite, it is vicious with a persistent four-to-the-floor emphasized by a number of blaring sirens. Genealogical lines can be drawn between Stuffed Animal and hardcore trance, the kind that would elicit the rubbing of sweaty appendages by late 90s speed freaks in some dank London underground hot-spot. This track and the later one, Ugly Fuck, are a pair. Similar sounding, they are the oddballs of Home Sweet Home, both in terms of genre and emotion.

The transition from Stuffed Animal to the next trio of songs, Lose My..., Peggy, and Concerta, is like jumping off a cliff. Immediately, rage is replaced by sadness, or at least adamancy. The “in your face” tension gives way to Lose My..., a track that comes across as watery and eerie. The drums in the intro sound almost submerged. The pulsing synths roll in, then out, then back, again and again.

Lose My... melts into Peggy, which is also ethereal, and oddly enough, has an identical run time at 3:33. Peggy is the first real hip-hop track on the album, recalling some of Jack Van O's older work. Purportedly named after the Mad Men character, Peggy is wholly melancholic.

In ABRSDTS' own words, the song Concerta represents, “the sense of vacancy one gets on on those medications.” Anyone diagnosed with ADHD and/or who has taken the prescriptions for it can relate to this. Even amongst a circus of thoughts, and in the song's case, sounds, there is an underlying sense of hollowness, a hovering existential ambiguity – if you are going in every direction at once, are you really going anywhere? There are two beautiful bridges in this song, both melodic, the first, fuzzy with a glimmer of Clams Casino-esque sample manipulation, the second, shimmering, is bookended by an organic oscillation that sounds downright human. These two bridges are fleeting though, and one cannot help but want more when they are gone. This listener is left with that aforementioned hollowness.

The empty space is quickly filled, and then some, by a pocket of uppers, two of the certified Club-Friendly handful, beginning with the song Multiplayer, a chip-tune influenced electro-house anthem that reaches for the stars. This song stands in contrast to the solemn faces of Lose My..., Peggy, and Concerta that precede it, instead focusing on a facet of ABSRDT that is happy, energetic, and wants to party. Turn off the lights and turn on the strobe. Infectious and rousing, this is the pump-up track of the album. Interesting to note though, is that Multiplayer is painted with a pallet made up almost exclusively of chip-tune sounds. It would sound at home in a club, and equally so in the ears of the hardcore gamer's, a feat not many songs can claim. Nu-chip? Rave-bit? Screw the labels – this song kicks ass.

Grab another drink, Jack keeps the party going with Zoe, the next song after Multiplayer. Zoe is arguably the best song on the album, and will likely find widespread appeal. The highlights include shear catchiness, a chaotic outro, and a fantastically used sample, “Supersonic, idiotic, disconnected, not respected, why you wanna go and top that?” Again, it is Certified Club friendly. House DJs take note, drop this in your set. Although it can sustain itself playing out of the laypersons' laptop speakers, there is room for scratching, samples, and effects.

The house track Caravaggio features a return to the mood that permeated earlier tracks like Lose My..., and Peggy, the pervasive feeling that something is “off”, and the uncertainty as to exactly what that something is, in this case, expressed through dissonance and atypical noises, in particular on that sounds like the little spring thing that some people have as door stops, that BOINGG that comes from flicking it.

Seeker is the halfway point in Home Sweet Home, and a chip-tune electro hybrid. The synths are flashy, and the song itself could be seen as a auditory chronicling of a racing game victory circa early 90s. On a winding racetrack of color, pixelated cars fight for the lead until the agonizing moment when they become perfectly even just before the black and white checkered line grows to fill the screen and BAM - the number “#1” appears and the all the characters start dancing, providing another couple CCs of validation, enough to convince the red-eyed gamer to turn his clock around and select that option that alluringly blinks, “Next Race”.

As a whole, Home Sweet Home is slightly top heavy. The first half of the album contains most of the stronger tracks. The second, for the most part, appeals to the softer, restrained, and tender side of human nature. It asks the listener not to “get down!”, but to transcend or chill out. You Can't Have Both, Mom, I Did It Because I Wanted You To Love Me are delicate, all three highly atmospheric in the ways that only a group of Gregorian monks, choir, or strings section can sound.

The bell-like sounds in The Giving Tree are tranquil, the hip-hop is consistent and reliable, a candidate to freestyle over. If Lose My... is watery depths, The Giving Tree is all rain drops and ripples. No doubt one of the instances of nostalgia Jack refereed to when describing Home Sweet Home, the track Mintz is innocent, and moseys along with juvenile melodies straight from the cradle or out the ice cream truck's speakers.

Ugly Fuck, on the other hand, is the opposite of soft, restrained, and tender. While there are in fact moments of calm, the song slams the listener with spontaneous bouts of hardcore trance. Think reeling madness. Hook up some good speakers, jack up the bass, and lose your mind. Ugly Fuck is 0 to 60, and it will, without a doubt, catch you off guard the first couple listens, the genre shift is that abrasive. Similarities in intensity can be drawn it and Stuffed Animal. Their spontaneity and intensity is reminiscent of Death Grips.

One notable aspect of the second half of Home Sweet Home is the use of samples. During both the beginning and end of Mom, a robot voice that sounds oddly patriarchal. The song then proceeds through flurries of crescendos to a point that can only likened to a white-out. Heavy. It ends with a sample from a TV broadcast

Snick is funky, jazzy, bluesy, and slightly hip-hop. According to Jack, the song is composed exclusively from Logic samples. It's ABSRDST being ironic and having a bit of fun. The track is sadly only just over a minute long, but its brief and light-hearted tone is relished. Frozen Food and Sleep Deprivation are also short, both under two minutes, and asides from the industrial beat in the latter, sound almost subdued. They might as well be interludes.

Home Sweet Home, the title track, epitomizes the the album. All of themes, “Loneliness, nostalgia, irony and self reflection”, are present. The core melody is wistful. Throughout the the album, the music is easily visualized, be it as watery, spacey, or snowy, or whatever. At 7:11, the title track finds time to revisit all of this imagery, and indeed, sounds downright cinematic with the inclusion of samples of a man and a boy talking. “What do you wish?”, echoes the man. The boy responds, but his words are muffled, the listener will never know what he wishes for. The chopping, blending, and use of the samples, like in the bridges of Concerta, pays tribute to a style championed by Clams Casino.

Home Sweet Home is 23 songs long, and stands at about 90 minutes, which for an LP is huge. But don't let the formidable amount of material discourage you from listening to the album until its end. Not doing so will result in you missing two gems, the closing tracks. For the first, called As Seen In The Desert Kingdom, an “s” might as well be placed in the second to last word, making it read “dessert” – this song is rhythmic candy. It is offbeat, complex, and hard to tap your foot to in all the right ways.

The finale to Home Sweet Home is a foray into trip-hop, centered around a relaxing guitar chords. Warm Water can be summed up in one adjective, “chill”. Although there are a lot of softer songs on the album, none of them come across quite so laid back. Of the watery tracks, Warm Water is literally the most so. The sound of a babbling brook can be heard throughout. What's more soothing than a babbling brook? Other vocal samples, although rendered incomprehensible, flicker in the background, sounding a lot like a DJ's scratching. Home Sweet Home ends on a great note, a song truly fit for summer.

As mentioned before, this album is huge. The length of this review is evidence of that. There is a lot going on musically, tone wise, atmospherically, thematically, with reference to genre, and more; there is a lot to cover. Emotionally, there are deep lows and tall highs, heard plainly when listening to in succession, for example, I Did It Because I Wanted You To Love Me and Casey's Quest; not to mention the furious intensity of Stuffed Animal and Ugly Fuck. Songs like The Giving Tree and the title track, Home Sweet Home, are highly introspective, suited for the solo listener, probably great to meditate or fall asleep to. Songs like Arcane Bits and Pieces and Zoe are begging for lasers, scantily clad ladies, and another drink, certified Club-Friendly. Listen to the album, and pay attention to the samples, the origin's of which are sometimes unexpected. Did you hear the Metroid one on Carraggio? And on Zoe, did you notice the hook was from Teen Witch? Like Jack said in an interview words, “[This album is] a bag of tricks.”

The songs are numerous to the point that Home Sweet Home could have easily been split into two releases, one for those contemplative, and one for those upbeat. Some of the shorter tracks, Frozen Food, Mintz, and Sleep Deprivation, while not exactly filler, almost seem unneeded in comparison to the more interesting ones like Multiplayer and Warm Water. But, those listeners who are sustained on atmosphere alone will probably disagree. As a whole, Jack’s album is exactly as he intended it to be, filled with richness of harmony and complex composition, with themes of “Loneliness, nostalgia, irony and self reflection.” In it, he certainly stayed true to himself as an artist, and as an individual, which makes sense for an album titled Home Sweet Home. But, peppered amongst it, are gems that standout as energetic, happy, and assertive, if not aggressive. It really comes down to the listener’s preferred tone. One thing is certain, the album is the spectrum in it’s entirety, the highsand the lows; it’s all there. It is the same with the artist, the different facets of Jack, it’s all there. He isn’t hiding.

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START OF INTERVIEW

Q: Explain the reasoning behind the name of the album.

A: Home Sweet Home is kind of a bittersweet title… at the moment, I don’t really have a place to go, so I kind of tried to make this album that place. I think I succeeded.

[The artist's living arrangements have been solidified since the interview was conducted.]

Q: Are their any unifying themes between all the songs, be it atmospherically, musically, lyrically, or otherwise?

A: There are absolutely unifying themes. Loneliness, nostalgia, irony and self reflection. The song titles are all extremely personal. Some of them are anagrams of people I know, some of them are just things that I like. As I write this, I’m listening to Concerta, a tune which sort of represents the sense of vacancy one gets on those types of medications. The opening track is called Divorce, and it’s kind of ironically named, so I think it sets the stage for the rest of the collection.

Q: What genres of music are present in the album? 8Bit? House? Hip-hop? Techno? Drum n Bass?

A: Oh sure, all of those and more. There’s some Metroid samples, several instances of the film Teen Witch, a little bit of piano, a whole lot of synths (a WHOLE lot of synths), a healthy dose of pop, Sega Genesis influences… Its a big bag of tricks. Theres even some church hymns on the track Mom.

Q: What’s your favorite song off the album?

A: I guess I’d have to say Home Sweet Home, Carravagio, Zoe, and Mom.

Q: Which song do you think will have the most appeal?

A :I really don’t know… When I share my music with friends they always come back with really unexpected favorites. Typically, they pick the ones that I thought were too weird.

Q: Any other songs worth mentioning?

A: Peggy is a good one. It might be the most purely Hip-Hop track on the album. Also, You Can’t Have Both is good. I made it as a gift for a friend, but I decided that I’d put it on there anyways. In fact, I made a lot of these songs for friends as presents when I couldn’t send them anything else. I won’t say which ones, they know who they are and that’s all that matters. Oh, and Snick is possibly the most ironic thing i’ve ever made.

Q: How do these songs differ from ones in the past? Do you find yourself maturing more and more as an artist?

A: They don’t differ that much from my music from the past, other than being rendered better. One of the core themes of this album is identity. I spent a long time trying to sound like other artists, and I know a lot of people have the same problem… with electronic music blowing up these days, its easy to feel insignificant or insecure compared to all of these high-def producers who are kind of revolutionizing dance music right now. It took me until recently to realize that i don’t make dance music; and that’s okay. But for this album, I wanted to show everyone what all these different type of music sound like when I try my best to be that… I think a lot of life is about trying to fit in, and some of us, unfortunately, can’t. So in a way, the album is a parody of who I am; a sampler, a copycat, overly sentimental and my own best friend.

Q: During winter you moved to Lowell…… Did the different logistics effect your music in any way?

A: It has. Ever since I lost a stable place to make music, it has destabilized my sound. Many of these tracks are old scraps that I dug up and reworked into the album. Some of them were made in friends’ dorm rooms when my headphones broke, and a good amount of them weren’t even made on my own hardware. The song D- is something I made on my cousin’s computer in an afternoon, You Can’t Have Both I made in Logic before it was wiped from my computer, and Sleep Deprivation was made with a trial copy of Ableton which expired days before I could actually figure it out. Some were mixed on headphones, others on p.a. systems. Listening on as many different types of playback systems as you can will reveal samples that you can’t hear anywhere else. I guess I like that about my music. It feels like I could lose all of my music at any moment. None of them are perfect, but they all sound like I felt when I made them, and I guess that’s worth something to me.

Q: Are you going to school for a music related major?

A: I am at UML, but I can’t declare music major. I’m not technically a musician to them. I don’t play an instrument.

Q: I see from your facebook that you went on WUML radio. What was that experience like?

A: Wonderful. I love interviews. You expect to know all the answers, but sometimes the right question tells you more about yourself than yourself ever could.

Q: You are always creating, what are your plans for after this album? Another album? EP?

A: I plan to keep making music constantly and often. I plan on refining my music more, my sound, especially as I get deeper into summer. I want to drop an album or mix-tape with more a coherent theme. And as much as I like what DKSTR did for Home Sweet Home, I’d like to go back to doing my own graphics because I feel it suits my music more.

Q: Is there any hope of seeing ABSRDST live?

A: Yes, although I don’t know exactly what direction I want to take my live shows in. I want to start out some parties to test out my rig. Eventually I want to play in front of or behind a screen which would feature clips that my cousin Zoe Nichols would be sequencing. I’m always looking for opportunities to play live, so if anybody knows of any, they should let me know.

Q: Any possibility of merch sometime soon?

A: Absolutely. If people show interest, in the future I would get CDs, t-shirts, bumper stickers, honestly, whatever the fans are looking for.

END OF INTERVIEW

Definitely check out this album if you are a into chip-tunes, have acute rhythm cravings, or enjoy losing your mind to melodia – it’s a technicolor torrent of electronica, and large to boot at 23 songs.

Stream and download Home Sweet Home here: http://absrdst.bandcamp.com/album/home-sweet-home

-Christian Arthur

Do you want to get better at something? How about Superbetter? Everyone has something about themselves that they wish to improve, whether it’s quitting smoking, developing a talent, becoming more social, or recovering from an illness or debilitating accident, or other. This last challenge, is something that Jane McGonigal faced, age 34.

In the summer of 2009, McGonigal suffered a mild traumatic brain injury. The concussion left her unable to read, write, play video games, exercise, or do anything of the things she liked to normally do. It left her depressed, anxiety-ridden, and at times suicidal.

In attempt to convey how she felt to her family and friends, she scribbled “Everything is hard. The iron fist is pushing against my thoughts. My whole brain feels vacuum pressurized. If I can’t think, who am I?” This took McGonigal, who received a BA in English from Fordham University, about an hour to write.

Thirty days after the accident, and McGonigal was seeing no signs of progress. She was experiencing the same vertigo, memory loss, and foggy thinking. So, as a last bid for recovery, she decided to do what she did best. Turn it into a game. The result? Superbetter, the “roleplaying recovery game.”

Jane McGonigal is an expert in game design and has a Ph.D. in Performance Studies. But what sets her apart from many game designers, is her belief that video games are capable of sparking social change and personal betterment, outside of the virtual space. In 2011 she published Reality is Broken: Why Games Make Us Better And How They Can Change The World.

Her work has lead to the creation of 2007′s World Without Oil, a game whose environment featured an oil shortage, teaching players how to conserve their own usage. In 2010, in association with the Institute for the Future, the game Superstruct was created. It was centered around hypothetical situations, all dealing with the impending extinction of the humanity from various causes. Urged to innovate and create ideas for pursuit of salvation, after 5 weeks, “players came up with 500 insanely creative solutions,” McGonigal.

Like it’s predecessors, Superbetter is a game that aims to bring about change in the real world, by helping an individual achieve their goals. Whether it’s recovering from a concussion, breaking a habit, doing well in school, or learning how to draw, or even juggle, whatever it is, Superbetter is there to motivate in a variety of ways toward a player’s Epic Win.

What is the Epic Win? It’s the endgame, the final boss, slaying the dragon, rescuing the princess and riding off into the sunset. Having am overall goal promotes qualities like, Focus, Energy, Determination, and Discovery, any gamer would agree with this. But unlike normal games, in Superbetter, when they finally grasp hold of their Epic Win, the end credits never roll. Beating Superbetter just means that you achieved what you set out to do, and that it’s time to start the process over. And a player beats Superbetter just like they would any video game, by making their way through Quests, vanquishing Bad Guys, and grabbing some Power-Ups along the way.

Quests are personal missions a player sets for them self. These are short-term goals that will get you closer to your Epic Win. A Quest is the the song you record in pursuit of your album, it’s the homework assignment that leads to the A. The science behind this is that long-term goals are easier to achieve if they are broken down into smaller tasks.

Bad Guys, just like in any video game, are things that try and hinder you. In Superbetter, they can be people, situations, objects, or whatever. They are the people you juke around to run hell-bent for the touchdown. They are the people in the dorm next door blowing up your phone, asking you to come out and get wasted, even though you have a final. Vanquishing Bad Guys helps one develop flexible optimism, something the Superbetter website likens to a “powerful positive mindset combined with a dose of action-inspiring reality.”

Power-Ups, are anything that boost you, whether it be mentally, emotionally, socially or physically. Watch a TED video. Take a nap. Go get coffee with a friend. Drop down and do push-ups. A Power-Ups generally make you feel good or give you energy to do the things you need to do.

Besides these three, there are other mechanics in the game to keep you motivated, interested, and on track. Players are encouraged to take on a Secret Identity, a different name. Some players choose to label themselves after superheroes like Batman or Wolverine, a tenacious athlete like Lance Armstrong, or a famous writer like Jack Kerouac. Whatever a player chooses, the Secret Identity is meant to give the them a sense of importance and purpose. Regardless who you are, you call yourself The Hulk for an extended period of time, you’ll eventually start feeling at least a little empowered.

Another important aspect of Superbetter is the Allies feature. Allies are people that you recruit to help you along the way to accomplishing your Epic Win. This is the social networking aspect of Superbetter. The theory is allies help you, you help them, and everyone get’s Superbetter in the process.

In an article with the New York Time Jane McGonigal said, “What I really want to do is help people suffer less…What games do successfully is help you tap into certain gamer traits like optimism, resilience and learning from failure that are really useful to have when you’re tackling a tough challenge. It’s because gamers develop these giant calluses that help you work harder in the face of failure.”

So does Superbetter really work? Try it out. Because the progress a player makes in the game actually occurs in real life, it’s not much of a game. It just attempts to make an adventure out of achievement. Superbetter, all gimmicks aside, at it’s heart, is a great way to make goals and organize how to get there.



McGonigal, Jane, perf. Jane McGonigal: Gaming can make a better world. TED, 2010. Web. 9 May 2012. <http://www.ted.com/talks/jane_mcgonigal_gaming_can_make_a_better_world.html&gt;.

McGonigal, Jane, perf. Jane the Concussion Slayer, Ep 66. Ignite, 2010. Web. 9 May 2012. <http://igniteshow.com/videos/jane-concussion-slayer-ep-66&gt;.

Feiler, Bruce. “http://www.nytimes.com/2012/04/29/fashion/jane-mcgonigal-designer-of-superbetter-moves-games-deeper-into-daily-life.html?pagewanted=all.” New York Times [New York City] 27 004 2012, n. pag. Web. 9 May. 2012. <http://www.nytimes.com/2012/04/29/fashion/jane-mcgonigal-designer-of-superbetter-moves-games-deeper-into-daily-life.html?pagewanted=all&gt;.

It’s been a little over 4 months since The Tree dropped their EP, The Groton Sessions. Well received, listeners everywhere have been digging the unique sound the band self-describes as “Groove Based Trip-Hop Funkin Supermelt.”

Says Cody Manley, 20, of Denver, CO, “The Tree branches out where the mainstream falls.”

Eclectic, The Groton Sessions draws from such genres as Rock, Jazz, Blues, World, Psychedelia, and Funk. It’s surprising that so many influences can be packed into an EP that is only 5 songs long. The band mixes the different styles, producing something that is polished, large, but never overly bombastic.

Katie Searles, 22, of Boston, MA describes the band as, “All different types of music put together and they make it fun. It’s not claustrophobic, it’s sound right.”

As far as vocals, The EP is filled with feel-good flows and sultry sung hooks that will infect listeners’ heads for days. Dark Vader, the first song on the album, features particularly playful lyrics with a Star Wars theme. “This one here is for my haters, y’all skywalk but I am Vader. Preppy kid I went to Cabor, lightin’ bongs with a light saber”, raps Christian Garris. “At the bar is where you’ll find me, chillin’ with hooligans on Mos Eisley.” spits Brandon Cabral.

When questioned about which song was their favorite, each band member swiftly replied, “Vader”. The song is crowd favorite too.  Most of The Tree’s shows typically end with it, and for good reason: It’s a banger. A staccato synth played by keyboardist Scott Lyman is the foundation. The catchy chorus is laughable, but in a good way – listen to the song, you’ll understand. Plus, Riley Stockwell’s funky guitar solo is pure sex.

The next song, Bomber’s Days Off, is upbeat. The hook is one of earnest positivity, urging listeners to “follow their dreams”. Midway through the song, there is a lengthy percussion solo by drummer Matt “Rico” Cavanaugh, during which he plays on “bottles, bells, and a bowl”. In regards to Cavanaugh’s playing as a whole, “The drummer throws down the craziest hip hop beats”, says Donnie Wilmink, 18, of Phoenix, AZ.

Grand Daddy Purp stands out among the songs on the The Groton Sessions, as it is the only one that is purely instrumental. Bassist Scott Dean, 20, of Champlain College, VT, commented on Jake O’Brien bass part. He said that, “in the chorus, it has it’s own melody, which twists and turns with the guitar’s”. This, combined with other aspects, such as erratic bongo drumming, a droning intro, dissonance, and an atypical time signature, make for a truly psychedelic track.

The Tree’s music reminds me of an acid trip. It starts with one thing, evolves and builds… then eventually it circles back”, said Dalton Vass, 18, of Columbus, Ohio. The EP’s Tiki Torch is a perfect example of this. It starts off mellow and meandering, the instrumental work restrained but melodic, and then enters singer Michelle Oliveri’s soulful croon. Stockwell raises the energy with guitar licks inflected with bursts of jazz and blues. The song picks up and suddenly takes on a reggae vibe as the rappers come in. Finally, the songs ends somewhere it started, with Oliveri singing, and a number of harmonies layered over her.

The last song on the EP is $5 Penny. High tempo, with socially conscious lyrics, it primarily showcases the two MC’s rapping abilities. Lyrical topics include nine to five jobs, materialism, wealth, and mainstream culture. “Dollar and a penny, 101 that’s easy. I’m tryna’ be with money like George and Weezy.”, says Christian Garris. “Look to the sky, ask God why. Hope he bless me, hidin’ cash in my socks like Joe Pesci.”, says Brandon Cabral. The song, and thus the album, comes to a close after a funky bass solo by O’Brien and a searing scat run by Oliveri.

Very much a live band, The Tree’s performances are engaging and energized. Says MC Christian Garris, “The epicenter of The Tree is it’s live shows. The EP tries to capture that.”

Give The Groton Sessions a listen if you haven’t yet. Like it? Get ready. It is being expanded into a full-length album, a self-titled debut. With the recording process complete, the only thing left to do is to mix. The band speculates the LP will be done in a couple weeks. Nick Giammalvo is currently set to design the album cover.

Other recent developments for The Tree include a number of upcoming shows at various venues in the Boston area. On May 12^th, they are playing at The Precinct, on May 24^th, the Hard Rock Cafe, and on July 27^th at The Middle East Downstairs.

Their closest upcoming show is this Wednesday in Boston at the Wonderbar. They are playing with The Heavy Pets, a band whose self-titled second LP was dubbed a Top 10 Album of 2010 by the Huffington Post. Other recognition for The Heavy Pets includes being picked as High Times “Unsigned Band of the Month” for July, 2006.

Looking for “The Tree” merchandise? David Guadalupe Jr of the UGLY Gallery is putting to work his drawing abilities, and once everything is finalized the option to purchase will soon be available. Interested in seeing some of Guadalupe’s art? Head over to the Gallery in New Bedford, or it’s website.

Fans of The Tree, tasteful-tune lovers, groovy people everywhere, be excited. Between the full-length, a bunch of big shows, and new merchandise, The Tree is bringing you a lot in the coming months. What a way to start the summer. 

The Groton Sessions: http://the-tree.biz/

The Tree on Facebook : http://www.facebook.com/thetreeband

The Rum Diary is an acquired taste. Those looking for a straight-forward or deep movie will definitely find it lacking in these areas. But, that being said, fans of Dr. Thompson, Johnny Depp, and those desiring a spontaneous movie with witty dialogue will no doubt be entertained.

The film is based off a novel written by Hunter S. Thompson, who was journalist known for his wild antics and savage writing. He once said, “I hate to advocate drugs, alcohol, violence, or insanity to anyone, but they’ve always worked for me.”

Written when he was 22, the The Rum Diary is based off events that Thompson experienced during a brief writing stint in Puerto Rico. Although clearly the work of a young writer, the book was a stepping stone in the development of Gonzo Journalism, an offshoot of immersive journalism that Thompson would later invent. Many comparisons have been draw between The Rum Diary and his most infamous piece of Gonzo writing, the drug-crazed period work Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.

Similar to the novel from which it was based, The Rum Diary film succeeds in capturing the good doctor’s unbridled irresponsibility. It is chaotic, it is intoxicated mayhem, it is journalism gone wild – and all of this set with the beautiful Caribbean blue backdrop that is San Juan, Puerto Rico.

The movie’s focus on the “heat of the moment” will appeal to many, but at the same time, is its greatest short coming. Those who prefer rock solid plot direction will probably leave the theaters feeling cheated. Because, The Rum Diary isn’t about going from point A to point B, it’s about getting lost along the way and causing as much damage as possible. And of course, its about rum. This sits “relatively” well in the stomach of the main character, Paul Kemp, played by Johnny Depp.

Kemp is an amiable city journalist with a fake resume, who when inquired about his drinking habits replies, “On the higher end of social drinking.” Arriving in Puerto Rico looking for fame and fortune, he gets rum, trouble with the law, a job at the dysfunctional local paper, The San Juan Star, and encounters with an alluring yet mysterious woman.

Johnny Depp’s acting is by far one of the best aspects of the film. His portrayal of Paul Kemp, Thompson’s alter ego, is reminiscent of sister-story Fear and Loathing’s Raul Duke, albeit much more toned down. Depp, a good friend of Thompson’s when he was alive, spent four months living in the writer’s basement mastering his habits and mannerisms. This essence of Hunter, with the addition of Depp’s own unique blend of quirk and comedic delivery, make for a fast-paced and humorous film.

Supporting characters, Bob Sala, a blunt photographer played by Michael Risposi, and Moburg, a cantankerous drunk played Giovanni Ribisi, are also often responsible for audience laughter. One memorable scene involves Moburg’s distillation of 470 proof alcohol, something that is impossible. Another one consists of Kemp and Sala taking an unknown hallucinogenic drug. Along with being Kemp’s roommates in a rundown apartment, the two also associate with him in the newspaper, The Star.

The San Juan Star, the islands biggest english speaking paper, is in utter disarray. This is largely due to the degenerative effects excessive rum drinking causes over a long period of time, a fact that the frazzled head editor, Edward J. Lotterman, played by Richard Jenkins, never ceases to take note of. Kemp employment is Lotterman’s attempt to save The Star from drowning.

Through the newspaper Kemp also meets Sanderson, a smooth talking businessmen with criminal tendencies. Sanderson, played by Aoron Eckhart, aims to hire the protagonist’s writing skills for his own purposes, and attempts to do so with a red convertible as bribery, among other things. But it is Chenault, Sanderson’s sexy wife played Amber Heard, that Kemp really wants.

Between the newspaper’s troubles, Sanderson’s machinations, and Kemp’s lusting over Chenault there are a number of plot viable plot directions the movie could move in. But, the film seems to get stuck in the middle, never fulling committing to any. Indeed the ending, which aims for noble, come across more as anti-climactic.

This may be director Bruce Robinson’s fault, as the last part of the film seriously strays away from the book. It may also be the result of the early point in Thompson’s career that he wrote the The Rum Diary. Either way, the movie is what it is: an eccentric, clever, crazy journey that represents the brutally honest intellect from which the story was born. As Thompson always said, “Buy the ticket, take the ride.”

-Christian Arthur

Image Credit:

http://www.iywib.com/watch_rum_diary_streaming.php

http://freegotham.com/2011/10/30/the-rum-diary-a-review/

The Sunshine Diner Pt. 2

The dish room of the Sunshine Diner is a hell of a place, literally. The poor souls stuck there toil ceaselessly, surrounded by filth and rank meal scraps that weren’t particularly sanitary to begin with. Across from the deafening dish machine are three sinks, one for most of the eatery brunt, one for back-up, and one that serves only to collect run-off and stagnate.

The sinks on one side of the room, the dish machine on the other, each station is manned by a rotating duo of consistently hung-over youth – all of them trying to make ends meet, meaning, the end of last night’s debauchery to the next’s.

Todays working class heroes are Eric and Christopher, both of them pale from lack of sleep and jittery from too much coffee.

“Dude, I’m so hungover”, said Eric as he pushed another crate through the machine causing the ones coming out the other side to jam up against the wall.

“ Dude! Make sure to remember there is actually a human being on the other side of that gaping maw!”

“Roar”, said the dish machine, its mouth facing Eric.

“What? I can’t hear you over Hobart!” That was both the machine’s brand and it’s name.

“DUDE! Just relax, stop pumping them through the machine like you are trying to take out how shitty your head feels.”

“Ehhhh”, he groaned back.

“Ohhh boys!”

Turning around, the two saw Kim enter the dish room.

“What”, whined their voices in unison.

Stiffing a giggle at the disheveled, she said “We have two stage-5-assholes out front, you know the drill.”

“Yup”, said one.

“You got it said the other”, both of them smiling as if some sort of triumph had occurred.

“These bastards are fucked!”, said Christopher.

Chuckling, Kim said, “Men should learn to stare at my face when I talk.” The boys nodded emphatically, their eyes locked on her chest. Kim, scoffing in disgust, walked out, muttering something that condemned an entire gender.

Turning back to their realm of squalor, the two dishwashers walked over to that sink, the third one, the defiled. Their hands groped in the grime, sifting through brittle husks and slimy unimaginables.

Now, at The Sunshine Diner, there is a certain protocol for dealing with particularly rude customers: all plates must be garnished with essence of the third one.

These boys were having a really bad day so they passed through layers upon layers of aged food sediment to the crusty bottom of Old. Hands clenched, with fetid squelching bubblings they brought their hands to the surface to inspect the treasures of the dredge.

“Yours is better”, said Christopher, and Eric agreed. And at that they erupted into a fit of laughter which quickly degraded into a hoarse percussion of smoker’s coughs.

“Fuck man, I gotta quit’, said Eric, taking a swig from his nearby Pepsi. Pursing his eyebrows because this was a fairly stressful concept, Christopher walked to the edge of the room, opened the restaurant side door, and hacked a lugie that instantly stuck to the frozen December pavement.

….

The side door opened onto the diner’s parking lot. By now, The two figures the city folk had spotted earlier had finally made it up the hill and were shuffling through the center of the pickup congregation. At the sight of the dishwasher opening the door for a brief moment to spit, the one with the red hunting hat lurched forward, letting out a gurgling grunt,and groaning a word that sounded like “pains”. Hobbling, the man wobbled. One second hunched, the other leaning back, the man finally reached the door, and, with out even taking the time to use his arm, pushed on inside into the dish room. Directly in tow followed his partner, with the same sort of shuffle, as if he had walked for days.

Inside the dish room, while in the process of laying out Kim’s vengeance on two plates, Eric and Christopher bickered over the intricacies of “ghost riding the whip”.

“Bro, you put it in neutral then hop out of the car and dance as it rolls.”

“I’m telling you, bro, that you keep it in gear”, sneered Christopher.

“Bitch, you don’t even own a car!”, said Eric, taking it to the next level and prompting a digression of insults. So engrossed were they in their jibes, the two dishwashers failed to notice the red-hatted hiker standing behind them. Open mouthed, the hiker just stood their trying to decide who to engage.

Seconds, and about about six zingers later, Christopher mustered some conviction and dropped “S my D …you rat-bastard!” Turning around to signal the others defeat, the lad quickly noticed the intruder.

Christopher’s glowing expression slowly slid to one of surprise, and then, after a quick up down of the figure, to one of disbelief.

“D-d-d-dude…”, he stuttered.

“Dude!”, he said, his voice regaining its footing, “It’s a fucking zombie!”

Focused intently on the dishes in front of him, Eric didn’t even turn around. “Haha, another one of the dead? From the amount you drank last night, I doubt he looks worse than you!”

“DUDE!”

Christopher smacked his coworker in the back of the head, causing him to violently whip around and start to snarl, “What the…” but then end with a whimper, “… the fuck.”

Across from the two boys stood one of the putrid undead. His eyes, dry from lack of blinking, listed unceasingly, seemingly following the grid-work of their own scarlet capillaries. Its face was cold and pale as potter’s slip. A confrontation with a bear left tatters of clothing with strips of skin that flapped with every one of the monster’s periodic sideways jerk and twist. And encircled around it was a pervasive smell of gangrene. Altogether, it gave off a wretched aura, a mix between unfathomable stupidity, and animalistic intensity.

Just in case it’s intentions weren’t clear, the zombie let out a “B-r-a-i-n-s.”, and then proceeded to attack them at a top zombie-shuffle of about 2mph.

At first stunned, the training Christopher had received from a decade of watching horror movies quickly took over, “The head, the head, go for the head!”

The zombie, having made it across the room, proved that it’s land-speed was a mere fraction of its lunge’s, and rapidly whipped its widening jaws at the dishwasher.

Between the dish machine and Christopher there was a counter at chest height. Using the zombie’s own momentum against it, Christopher quickly sidestepped, and pushed on its head, guiding it directly onto the counter.

The zombie’s head, weak from decomposition, more or less exploded. The skull fractured. With the gentle purring sound brains make when flying through the air at a high velocity, a radius of 6ft was splattered with undead grey matter.

“Cool!”, said Eric, completely outside the blast.

“Ughh, it splattered in my mou…”, and Christopher immediately threw up on the zombie. A thought appeared in his brain that God musk be a depraved sicko to let it all play out like this. He contemplated this for a moment while covered in zombified brains and vomit.

But as if in response to the ralph-shower, the zombie began stirring. With only half its head gone, it was merely slowed.

It stood up.

Eric, at first stunned, quickly remembered his training: Everything in the kitchen, be it plate or pan, must go through the dish machine.

He pushed the zombie from behind, and the top half of it tipped directly into the dishwasher. Hobart’s water, at nearly 200 degrees, scalded away what remaining motivation the monster had left. With a series of rapid spasms, the body grew still.

“Roar.”, said Hobart.

“Yeah!”, screamed Eric, “I… Am… The… Man!”, and he pumped his fists in victory. He turned around to signify his opponents defeat.

Christopher’s body lay mangled on the floor. The white-hatted zombie lunged and the last thing Eric saw was its teeth seconds before they bit off his face.

…

To be continued…..

]]> http://christianarthur.net/2011/11/12/the-sunshine-diner-pt-2-fiction/feed/ 0 sUNSHINE DINER2 oceanlandocean http://christianarthur.net/2011/11/10/freakfest-11/ http://christianarthur.net/2011/11/10/freakfest-11/#comments Thu, 10 Nov 2011 19:37:49 +0000 Christian Arthur http://christianarthur.net/?p=617 Read more]]> Click to view slideshow.

On October 28th, the freaks of New Bedford and beyond gathered at the local Black Watch Pub. Skeletons mingled with ghouls and took shots with ghosts. Vampires laughed over glasses of beer before stepping outside to smoke cigarettes. Poking up above the crowd was the branchy top of a tree man. Bill Clinton was also in attendance. The night that transpired was filled with debauchery and exceptional music.

The building was split by two rooms sporting very different sounds. On one side was a stage framed by tombstones and bathed in red light, on the other, DJs, a disco ball, and a dance floor.

The first group to hit the stage was The Tree. Their unique style of music, self-described as “Groove Based Trip-Hop Funkin Supermelt”, riled spectators and kicked off the night. Freakfest ’11 had begun.

Halfway through The Tree’s set, KyE Nathaniel picked up the mic and spit while energetically dodging through the crowd. He is a dervish when he rhymes, with his arms and his words.

At the finale of their performance, the The Tree finished up with fan favorite Dark Vader, to which the sea of costumes reacted accordingly – by going insane.

Next up was Risky Biz, the twisted masterminds behind the whole operation. A rap trio, the group’s lyrics lean more towards the abrasive. The Biz has been around for a years now  and this was evident in the polished quality their performance possessed. After it was over, the three MCs stayed on stage and a couple members of The Tree came up to jam. The crowd basked in the afterglow of the two groups.

As the first side of The Black Watch began winding down, the other was just getting started. DJs Jimmy Pasta and Peter Icecream slammed the room with techno, house, moombah, and more. It got strange. It got downright deranged.

There was crowd surfing, people started taking off their shirts, climbing on walls – a lot of general pandemonium that comes from a group having a really good time. Also, at some point in the night, proper respect was payed to The Based God.

Freakfest ’11 was a success. The music was fantastic and the costumes were creative. For those who missed it, do not worry. This wasn’t the first one, and it won’t be the last. But in the mean time, while you wait for next Halloween, check this out:

The Tree will be playing at the Precinct Bar in Somerville this Saturday, on November 12th. Long anticipated, their debut EP, The Groton Sessions, is now finished and will be dropping as soon as band members can agree on a time to do so.

Risky Biz has four releases available to listen to, the most recent being Stay Off the Grass, released April 20th, 2011.

KyE Nathaniel has been making a name for himself, recently receiving coverage on a number of blogs. His two newest singles, Wonder Why and On Top, can be heard on his Tumblr.

Although there is no word as to when Jim Pasta and Peter Icecream are next playing, there is no reason to believe they will cease their DJ activities.

For more pictures of Freakfest click here.

-Christian Arthur

Kirby’s Irish Pub is a small bar in New Bedford, located at 818 Kempton Street. It’s a dive bar, meaning it’s teeming with locals looking for some good ol’ alcohol fueled socializing. In the back corner, there is an arcade game with a speed bag that rates the strength of one’s punches in points. Guinness and Irish Car Bombs are patron favorites. Needless to say, these people know how to throw down.

As The Tree’s home venue, Kirby’s has played an integral part in both the beginnings, and the local success of the band. MC Brandon Cabral referred to it as “Kirby’s, the birthplace of The Tree.” New Bedford native’s know and love this band. So every few weeks when they play there, the place gets packed, it gets wild. The entire September 17^th show is available to view on UStream. Also, a clip of the one on October 7^th can be found on youtube.

Much of the band’s appealing live experience can be attributed to their highly interactive stage presence. The vocalists get right into the thick of the crowd, sometimes inches from faces, and dance, jump, and shout with their fans. A lot of time, the mic even gets handed over to to someone in the audience. In the past, guest MCs have included Bryce Da SixOne and Nick Be. Most shows the both lyrically and literally mammoth KyE Nathaniel will spit on songs like Five Dollar Penny.

The next gig at Kirby’s is already scheduled, it’s a Halloween party on the 29^th. The band invites all to “wear their best costumes” and “ come have a blast.” They definitely will play some of the new material they have been working on. Bassist Jacob O’Brian said the band has about 5 or 6 songs that are either finished or in the works, three of which, have the titles Psychodelic, Funken, and The City.

As for the highly anticipated EP? Fans be thankful, the recording process is finally complete and will be reaching public ears shortly. The collection of songs dubbed The Groton Sessions was “just finished last Tuesday”, said guitarist Riley Stockwell. He went on to specify that New Bedford based record label, Croon Recordings, should be “done mixing it in the next couple of days.”

For all those who have missed out on seeing the Tree at Kirby’s, don’t fret. As stated before, The Tree will be playing at Kirby’s on the 29^th. Come to the show to see the infectious rock driven hip-hop that has fans going wild. Come to the show to see the energetic stage presence. Come to the show and learn why the band and everyone around them can’t stop saying, “it just feels right.”

It just feels right.

-Christian Arthur

The Sunshine Diner

Up Interstate 93, straight into the depths of The White Mountain Forrest, is where New Hampshire really becomes thick. There, the deer and moose crowd the brush, the spruce and evergreen crowd the mountains, and the mountains crowd each other.  All of them squeeze together to choke highway 122.

Dead center of this stretch, this road between Lincoln and Conway, lies a wooden sign bristling with antlers. On it, painted in a color that of dried blood is “1.3 miles north”. Directly beneath it, reads “The Sunshine Diner.” Adjacent to this rugged marker, winds a road that swells and sinks from too many seasons.

Following this wild road to the end, comes a hill crowned with a clearing and the tarnished jewel that is The Sunshine Diner. The building is worn, not dilapidated. It’s built of home grown wood that was meant to last many winters alive, and will still do so in the service of the diner. Originally yellow, the small restaurant has now faded and been land-scuffed to an olive drab speckled with shades of mud and protruding splinters.

Belaying it’s appearance, the Diner does well for itself. Today, Tuesday, the parking lot to the right is almost completely filled with pick-up trucks. Despite the Diner’s look of one forgotten, as the last bastion of humanity for miles around, it gets a steady influx of patrons. It also has, amongst wilderness locals, quite the cult following.

Chef John’s eggs and steaks are legendary, particularly the latter. The coffee, although not nearly as mythic, is certainly a step up compared to Sterno-roast. Other employees of the diner include Freddy, the other line cook, Kim, the waitress, Sarah, who works the weekends when Kim doesn’t, and a whole host of alternating dishwashers.

Like the Diner, it’s customers are rugged but still possess a certain shade of charm. They fit there. All of them sport formidable jackets, many of which are colored bright orange for hunting season, which just recently ended in this frigid month of December. Most of them dig into their first good meal since the hunt. Game this year was freakishly scarce. Beards enveloping mugs of java-mud that have thankfully heated to a merciful level that quickly induced taste bud singeing. The men converse, banter, and trade stories, all the while, their eyes occasionally sticking on Kim, the young waitress. She is all flash. First and foremost too young for almost all of them, had she been older, she still would be out of their league.

But Kim knows almost all of them, the majority being locals. She bounces back and forth between table, doting, curbing their hunger with “The regular?”, as she pops her cherry bubble gum with a smack of her lips.

Two men, however, are not locals. Pete and Ben are city folk, although they are far from being new to this feral area. Every fall they come up from the Big Apple to escape their families, bolster their testosterone, and take a shot at bagging some white-tailed deer.

Pete is one slick cat. Born and raised in Queens bridge, he is a second generation carpet salesmen. He has a way with elderly ladies, and on late nights he sits next to his Persians with a dictionary looking for new and attractive adjectives.

Ben is the stereotypical tough guy. He’s thick, but not like the surrounding woods cluttered with too many things. His head is thick like a brick wall that encircles a sparse field – sturdy, sure, but is it really protecting anything? Ben would have gone pro at boxing had he not overlooked the fact that they do in fact test for steroids. After he was kicked out of the league he took his remaining winnings and opened a bar up with his brother Tito. This was definitely one of his wiser moves on account that he can be both bouncer and bartender at the same time. It saves on labor costs.

The two new yorkers have been friends ever since childhood when their families bumped into each other at a campsite in these very woods. After a initial bonding over the Yankees, they disobeyed direct orders from their fathers, and threw rocks at a squirrel in a tree, until pummeled, it careened off to it’s death. The two have been coming up to these woods to kill beasts ever since.

Unfortunately for them, the woods held no deer or any large animals this year. Something had either killed or driven them off. Actually, the entire diner was abuzz with the talk of the recent hunt season. All of the men relied on venison to get them through the winter. Although in Ben and Pete’s case, they were in it for the pure killing impulse that been had stowed away from day after day of their dogged commuting and congested city-lifestyles.

The two sat, at table 12, with a solid view of grime-glazed f150s, lamenting the stale hunting season and recent lack of luck.

“This really blows, man”, said Pete.

Out in the parking lot, a group of hunters began arguing over who’s mustache provided better camouflage. Squinting his eyes in hopes of understanding the conversation, Pete eventually gave up because all the hunter’s had mustaches so large that it made it impossible to read their lips.

“I had been looking forward to this all year, I really needed this.”

“I’m so angry right now!”, snarled Ben, flexing, shifting his gaze from inanimate object to inanimate object.

Pete raised his arm, signaling Kim from afar, “Do you think it was the bears?”

“I’m so angry right now!”, snarled Ben, still flexing, but then, mustering up some articulation managed to say, “Fuck bears!”

Sighing, Pete said “Ben. The juice, Ben, the juice…”

“Juice?” said Kim, who had just walked up.

Pete waved his arms in the negative, “No, no, we will just have coffee.”

“Ok, you got it”, said Kim, with a click from her pen and a quick encore pop from her gum. “Should only be a minute or two.” She walked away to grab the java, the scent of the gum in her wake.

“I smell cherry”, grunted Ben.

“I think it’s the gum that waitress is popping.”

“Ha”, Ben smirked, “I’d pop her cherry any day.”

“Ben!”, retorted Pete, “Jesus, be discrete”, and then whipped his head around to bare a falsely innocuous smile just as Kim glanced over her shoulder. Moments later she returned with a red mug in each hand.

“Thank you”, said Pete, and before Ben could say anything, quickly blurted out “We will have Chef John’s famous steak and eggs.”

“Alright, I’ll go let the chef know”, said Kim, inwardly slightly peeved.

“Thanks”, said Ben, again wrapping his face in that same salesman smile, which then turned slightly genuine at the sight of Ben’s lewd pantomimes just outside Kim’s field of vision.

Actually, Kim did see it. But this wasn’t the first time a customer had acted like this towards her. She reserved a special brand of dish desecration for people like this. Walking through the maroon colored saloon door, she entered the kitchen shouting to the Chef, “Hey John!”

“Yeah?”

“These guys are being real assholes out front, like harassin’ me and stuff. It’s the table with the two steak and eggs I just ran through, table 12 I think.”

“Stage?”, he inquired?

“At least a 3, probably a 4, maybe even a 5” Pop. Smack.

“Alright”, the chef laughed knowingly, “Here are the eggs, the steak should be ready soon. Why don’t you go drop these off, then let the boys in dish know.”

Kim grabbed the two plates, hurried out to table 12, set them down without a word, and headed back through the swinging doors, en route to the diner’s dish room.

“What’s her problem?”, said Pete, as he brought his utensils to his plate

Picking up the ketchup, Ben angled the bottle at his plate and squeezed, but, due to a slight miscalculation of strength, sent the contents of the bottle flying all over the table, battering the nearby window with little red droplets.

“Ah, Ben! What the hell!”, exclaimed Pete.

“What?”, retorted Ben, “This is some weak ketchup they got here. The city’s is always thicker, we have thicker blood in the city.”

“Well at least clean it up.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah”, said Ben as he grabbed a napkin and began sopping up the red. Making his way to the window he cleaned in small circles, reducing the mess to a hazy residue. As he arked for the final rub, he noticed something moving next to his hand in the distance. “Look”, he pointed.

“What?” said Ben, who was
hunting down the last of the splatter stragglers.

“Over their, two hikers.”

Lurching up came the two hikers, one with a black russian hat, and one with a grey beanie. From the looks of it, they were struggling.

“Jesus, they got to be crazy. It’s not snowing now, but there is still some on the ground and it’s pretty damn cold.” said Pete.

“Yeah, and from the looks of it, they are exhausted.”, said Ben, this last remark of his followed by a growl from his stomach. “Ah man, where are those steaks?”

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To be continued!