#mfs15

Every year, as Family Day approaches, something twigs in the back of my mind, and I check back to this blog's first-ever post — and when the anniversary rolls around, I usually post a link to it and leave it at that. I am a sucker for the significant numbers, though, so there was no way I could let MFS' 15th blogiversary pass without... something.

Even in these more gently-paced times — for various reasons, I didn't make it out in January to any of the shows I wasn't putting on myself — I still feel like this is just part of what I do, so I guess it's not time to hang it up quite yet. Partially that's down to me being better at keeping going with things than with starting or ending them. But it's also down to that back-of-my-mind notion that the realization I had long ago — that having a "job" to do in my community, as well as a sense that I belong to a community to do it in — kept me and keeps me from stumbling through the world as a miserable sad-sack.

So: this.

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It's no fun to celebrate alone, and though I'm perfectly capable of tooting my own horn, I try and remember it's better to let others speak to whether I've had any sort of positive impact. So I've started asking some folks from the "MFS universe" to help out. For the next few days, expect to see some guest posts here, with mini-playlists pulled from the site's archives. There's so many stories to be told in the over five thousand (!) recordings posted that I'm thrilled there are folks out there willing to share 'em.

Flexion / Reflection

So, a few days ago I posted the last recordings I had in my queue. At long last, I'm caught up!

The issue now, of course, is if and when there will be more recordings to post. It doesn't feel like it's going to be any time soon, especially as I think about the possibilities of having safe spaces (in a different sense than we usually mean) in the sort of venues I frequent. Are shows possible — never mind desirable — under the conditions that might be possible as things are eased off? How many people could you actually put in the Southern Cross or Wenona Lodge's basement if people were separated six feet in each direction? Would you actually want to go to a bar and — what — stand in a rigid grid two meters away from everyone else?

Anyway, it's all to say it's unclear how things are going to be in the months ahead. And unclear what I'll feel like doing. With a nice break to putter around in life's other avenues, maybe I won't feel the need to head out to so many shows in the future. Which isn't to say things here are going to end, but maybe they won't be as they were — I feel less like I'm at a cliff than at a height of land, looking at different terrain in front of me.

And in the meantime, without new material to post, there will be some opportunities to dip into the archives. Starting tomorrow, some friends of MFS will be sharing playlists of tracks from the blog that have mattered to them in one way or another, so at least we can remember the ways that we have been connected and affected.

1000 Songs: Introduction

I am generally content to let anniversaries pass by unremarked, and am by no means much of a self-promoter. But when I was doing the math the other day and saw that I was on the very precipice of having posted one thousand songs from my recordings, I did feel a sense of accomplishment.

Although I try and cast a wide net, my enthusiasm for recording live music really came from a desire to document the seemingly-limitless supply of local talent in our town. There were more than a few bands that I really loved to go see live who had great songs — songs that kind of just disappeared into the aether after the band broke up or changed gears. A lot of the time there might be a single or an EP, but those never gathered up all the good stuff that the bands had in their repertoire. And it wasn't the same as the live experience.

Now of course, a recording is never quite the same as being there. Heck — sometimes, a recording isn't even as good as a closely-held memory of a show. But at the same time, we need a yardstick to hold to our memories, lest the best-remembered things become embellished by the mind's will-to-nostalgia.

And even in a time where there's no shortage of pictures and youtube clips from almost any show, I feel it's important there's a best-quality, mindfully-archived version of what went down. Which is to say, I feel like I've found my own little niche.

And best of all, it's been gratifying along the way to get the sense that what I've been doing has been useful and/or pleasant for others, whether giving a band a document of an occasion that was a big deal to them or a chance to hear what their particular noises sounded like from the crowd — or even just to help enhance the memories of the people that were also there in the crowd.

Anyway, to celebrate those thousand songs, I've asked a few of the people that have been there in one capacity or another to pick a few that were meaningful to them. So turn up the speakers, hit that little play button and join in the celebration.

Guest playlist contributors:

• Colin Medley
• Matt Cully
• Robert Gibson/Optical Sounds
• catl
• John Leeson (T.O. Music Pix)
• Rich Trapunski
• Jen Polk
• Melody Lau
• Zaid Khan
• Jay Anderson
• John Caffery (Kids on TV)

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Has there been four or five songs posted here that made an impact on you? If you'd like to get in on the action and make a list, feel free to send me an email: mechanicalforestsound@gmail.com.

This is a test

Looking around for some different options on where I can stash my MP3's online. Any suggestions are welcome, but I'm curious to see if this one is working.

Can you leave a comment and let me know if this stream works for you?

Also, what do you think of this player? I think I dig this more than the Yahoo one, but, generally, in this case at least, I suppose I care more about what makes it easy for you to listen to this music — I have all this stuff handy at home, and I can transfer it to 8-track to listen to in the van, or whatnot. If you know of a more likable frills-free flash player, let me know.

Notes: Way Out West

Just a quick note: I am headed out to the rural analog world for a few days, so there won't be any concert-y stuff up here for a bit. By the time you read this, in fact, I should be on a hammock, listening to Young Marble Giants and considering the wide Manitoba sky while sipping on some iced tea made with fresh mint picked from the garden.

Planning ahead for a time like this, I have a backlog of album reviews to fill the days with, so if you've been on the fence about any of February's big releases, this might be the consumer advice you've been waiting for. Regular service will resume in a week or so.

P.S. If anyone has any interesting observations (or links to same) for any of the gigs I'm missing while I'm away — say, Timber Timbre last night, Japandroids tonight, or even how crazy the Fucked Up gig is — do leave a comment.

Statement of Purpose

"I'm getting too old for this shit," I sometimes think to myself when I look around whichever dank room I'm standing in, waiting for the band to come on. I went to around 80 gigs last year, which seems both insanely too much and way too few.

It occurs to me that my life isn't always going to be like this. At some point, one presumes, something or other will cause me to "grow up" and find other things to do with my time. Which I'm neither looking particularly forward to nor dreading.

I've also realized that if I don't make more of an effort to make contemporaneous notes of things, I'll simply forget all the telling details that made things interesting. I laboured to pull together a "most fondly remembered gigs of 2008" list, and it was a struggle to be able to recount what made an event special if I hadn't written down shortly thereafter. So: this.