Preserve the Sound

Swimming amongst a sea of mediocrity and mellifluous conformity, there are always a few urchins lurking in the depths, awaiting a chance to catch a break of sunlight through the waves of sufficiency. It is only when that creature removes itself from the silted folds of the sea floor, and parts the waters surface will it ever bask in the light of the world as its original beauty has been intended for. Sometimes, it falls haplessly onto a shelf, never to be heard from again, only to be bought up by the droves of carbon that rush in to spend their currency. Sometimes it sinks helplessly to the bottom, for the surface tension will not support such a departure. Occasionally, a creature has the persistence and resolve to burst free from the bounds of its oppressor, and make its way unaided to the sanctuary of its eager, yet unidentified, domicile.

Now, with all that imagery behind us, we can move on to the realism.

I've come to enjoy some interesting, unlikely musical acts over the years. Many of these I've stumbled onto in the most precarious fashion, and Preserve the Sound steal the pie one-handed, and at full sprint in this category. I was walking in an alley in between two bars; one a venue for which I was about to attend a show; the other, a great place to snag a cold, dark beer before being raped at venue beer prices. I had no intention of pilfering a free club pass other than the one I was already committed to, and yet, I heard a band through the fence I was traveling along that reminded me of why I still enjoy music at all. They sounded immediately similar to several groups I've been drawn to over the years, like Failure, Q and not You, and maybe a twinge of Hum. Well, that does it; next thing I know I'm sneaking in the back gate, heading in to an empty, unknown club for an unknown band with intentions equally as undetermined.
I stood silently, mouth probably slightly propped open, head gently bobbing to the melody permeating my "prepared only to hear Clutch" ears. With my mind repeatedly reminding me, "There is no dank beer here...", I remained steadfast, eyes affixed on the vocalist, Kevin, who seemed equally as optimistic about his music as he seemed shy about playing in front of the nearly non-existent crowd. Even while appearing so shy, they retained all aspects of a great band; keeping all the energy and stage presence needed to show great confidence in ones songwriting and delivery. At this point, I notice the drummer has the biggest fucking smile on his face I've ever witnessed, and to this day I'll attest it shouldn't have been humanly possible to smile like this without straining some facial muscle. This band truly delivered sound through a wealth of good chemistry, and a light of promise glowed in my eye as I approached a stranger in the "crowd" to find out the name of the band I was ogling.

As I was making my grand departure (sneaking back out the way I came), the band announced their name again, and cited they were really happy to get to play, and went right back into another song. I will stand fully behind any band that only desires the pleasures of making music (fuck the money), and is willing to play their hearts out to a crowd of nearly nil. There will be an interview coming next month, so stay chained to your terminal, and there are Mp3's in the You Rate It, so let us and Preserve the Sound know what you think in the meantime. See ya next month! - Phillip Rhoner with Lab Productions