All posts by Evan Hamilton

MANMcast

I spent last Saturday at Nick’s house recording vocals for our demos and jamming on new music.  Additionally, in an attempt to catch up to the internet zeitgeist, Monsters are not Myths has recorded a podcast.

I have to warn you: it’s completely ridiculous.  We’re pretty ridiculous.  And mildly offensive..  Please keep this in mind.

If you’d just like to hear the new track we were working on, skip to the last fourth of the podcast.  I’m really excited about where the song is going and I hope you’ll enjoy it.

As mentioned in the podcast, we’ll be playing in the Your Music Magazine Battle of the Bands on April 6th at The Catalyst in Santa Cruz, CA.  Doors open at 8, the show starts at 9pm.  Admission is $7 and the show is open to those 21 and older.

Please come out and support us: we promise a thoroughly rocking show with Nate Brown of Windham Flat and some new songs.  And if you tell me that you read about the show on my blog, I will buy you a Pabst Blue Ribbon.

If you haven’t heard Monsters are not Myths and would like to give us a chance you can hear some of our songs on our MySpace page.  If you really like them, they’re available at the iTunes store or at a discounted price at our shows.


 

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Racism persists

This is totally messed up. This isn’t new, but I just discovered it. Look at the identical photos (and the color of the people’s skin) and then the nonidentical verbs.

Racism

Everything that happened to non-whites in Louisiana during Katrina makes me really depressed. Anyone who thinks racism is a thing of the past needs to wake up.

Update: My linking html seems to have broken the image, so I’ve unlinked it. The old fashioned way:

This image originally posted here.

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Review: Sean Hayes @ The Independent 2.22.07

A bit of a belated blog entry about the Sean Hayes show last thursday.  I’ve been digging the Sean Hayes tracks my girlfriend plays (at a volume that is usually preferred by dogs) in the background at home, and so I figured $15 was a small price to see him before he explodes into American conciousness (which he will).

We arrived at The Independent early, and got in with relatively little hassle (I suppose two ID checks were neccessary).  The place was empty.  Two hipsters and three old folk (35) sat around the large space, bathed in red light.  We got some drinks (excellently mixed by the friendly bartender) and sat down to wait.  Hipster by hippie, the place filled.  By the time the fun, bouncy country-rock openers Sensations finished, the place was packed.  I guess fashionably late is still in style.

Sean Hayes took the stage after his band, bright eyed and booze-hoisting.  He looked typically indie: old fashioned hat, rolled up shirt sleeves, tight jeans.  His small guitar looked like the type that parents give their 8-year-old when they expect him to give up lessons after a week.  I was beginning to lower my expectations.
He began to strum a single chord slowly and powerfully, in a method that seemed like absentminded tuning.  Gradually, as would become a theme throughout the night, the chord transformed into a song.  Hayes’ voice, the true star of the evening, suddenly lit up the room with it’s wavering sustains and folky tones.  I brightened up; this was what I had caught a glimpse of on his record.  It was even more powerful in person.

Hayes ran through many of his album tracks as well as a bevy of new songs (indistinguishable in quality), dancing, muttering, and gesturing at the audience like a bunch of old friends.  Like his music, The Independent became a weird combination of Mass and a dance club.  Compelling rhythms (“All Things”) and morose blues/worship/folk songs (“Fucked Me Right Up”) somehow fit together, pushing the audience to dance, bounce, cuddle and grind.  Somewhat bizarre but fun and different that most concert experiences .

Much credit should go to Hayes’ band, who propelled his songs into the air and often kept them going with surprise reprises that Sean would ruefully smile at.  The drummer, tremendously, actually played for the opener, Sensations, as well as filling in for Hayes’ 2+ hours of music.  Yes, 2+ hours.  We arrived in SF at 7:30 and left at midnight.  And it was totally worth it.  If you get a chance, scope out Sean Hayes while you can still afford to.  He’ll soon be more than a Little Baby Star.

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