Featured Band: All Time Low

There’s always that one band you listen to in your early teen years that you never forget.

When I was 13, I discovered All Time Low and fell completely in love.

I usually like one or two songs by a band.  Four songs TOPS.

But All Time Low…they were different for me.

To date, they’ve recorded 4 albums and one EP.

The Party Scene (2005)

This album is no longer available. There are only 1,000 known CD copies.

EP: Put Up or Shut Up (2006)

So Wrong, It’s Right (2007)

Nothing Personal (2009)

They also released a “Straight to DVD” album of a live concert in New York City in 2010, along with a full-length DVD about their lives backstage and on the road.

In 2011, they released their latest album Dirty Work.

The album cover was also released in red.

They are the only band I’ve ever listened to that I have liked every single song they’ve written.  Well almost every song, I’m not a huge fan of three songs.  But other than that, I love all their music.

Until Dirty Work came out.

One thing I thought was absolutely fabulous about All Time Low, was that they never used autotune, except for one song (a version of “Coffee Shop Soundtrack”) that was CLEARLY supposed to sound super strange and synthesized.

Their latest album featured autotune and it was much more… pop that they used to be.  The lyrics were still pretty dynamic and poetic.  But they took on a co-writer for some reason.

Their three original albums are absolutely brilliant.  The lyrics make me want to laugh out loud they’re so beautiful and strange and wonderful.  Frontman Alex Gaskarth is truly a spectacular composer and lyricist.  So I have faith in him and I’m sure their next album will be back to their original marvelous magic.

Anyway, I’ve loved the band for a long time.  The music is catchy and fresh without being too pop.

And Alex just has the most magnificent, smooth, gorgeous voice.

The Eden House

I have lived in eight different houses.  But I like to call this one, the one on the edge of a canyon, the Eden House. It has been almost nine years since I last entered Eden.  But I still remember everything, perfectly.

The hillside was green and covered in ice plant, dotted with the purple and yellow of bright, spiky blossoms.  When I was five, my father built me a playground with blue swings and a small trapeze.  There was a slide and a low climbing wall near the chicken-wire house, furnished with mildewing green futons.

A deck made of glass, wreathed in poisonous orange trumpet flowers, overlooked the canyon, a bird feeder hung from its rafters.  If I stood near the windows, I could smell the sea breeze from the wide windows while watching the sun turn the sky to fire at dusk.

Our house had a pool with a tiny waterfall that trickled out of the rose-colored flagstones.  The bottom of the pool, painted sky blue, appeared so vibrant in summer that I needed sunglasses while swimming.  Jade plants and sour grass bloomed around the black mesh pool fence.  A little river ran through a papyrus grove just below my window, leading to a tall macadamia nut tree in the yard.

In spring I would pick the nuts and put them in a red plastic bucket.  Then I would take a hammer from the tool shed and crack them on the driveway.  I can still taste them, buttery and earthy, their meat so savory, slightly crunchy and simultaneously smooth.

Wooden steps made a trail from the deck to a blossoming purple jacaranda tree, heavy with flowers and bright emerald leaves.  The bark was thick and knotted, dark brown and russet red.  I used to climb into its highest branches and sing with the birds nested there.  In March I wrapped ribbons around its trunk and hung a hammock to sleep in during summer.

A pepper tree grew outside our front door and when it rained the smell of fresh ground pepper wafted through the sitting room.  The house was painted teal and white, but the paint was cheap and cracking.  It flaked off after every storm, every strong wind.  The diamond-shaped windows were dusty and yellowing, but that house was beautiful.

Featured Artist: Damian McGinty

Look out New Directions, there’s a show stealer star in your midst.

Rory Flanagan, portrayed by Damian McGinty, is an Irish foreign exchange student attending William McKinley High School.

McGinty was born in Derry, Northern Ireland on September 9, 1992 and is a former member of the band Celtic Thunder.

Some 40,000 singers entered the Glee Project for a shot at stardom and McGinty was one of 12 finalists who participated in the summer filler between Glee seasons.  For his final performance he sang “Somewhere Beyond the Sea.”

With his Frank Sinatra-esque voice and captivating stage presence, he co-won the Glee Project and earned himself a 7-episode arc (later extended because of his popularity) on Glee.

I’m not here to talk about how amazing Glee is, how hilarious the plots are blah blah blah.  In this third season, I don’t really think much is going on.  But I will tell you exactly what I think of this new Irish addition.

With clear blue eyes, smooth skin and lots of dark brown hair, he certainly stands out.  McGinty looks quite young for 19, but personally, I think he’s just about the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.

And that accent is killer.

In his debut episode, Pot O’ Gold, he sings Kermit the Frog’s “Bein’ Green.”  I was (very) pleasantly surprised by his silky baritone.

In the latest episode he sang “Blue Christmas,” a tribute to the King.

But I think his best performance so far was at the very end of Pot O’ Gold.  It says a lot about him that they gave a brand new character two solos in one episode.  He dedicated the song “Take Care of Yourself” to his family back in Ireland.

Wow.  That second half where he hits his falsetto is absolutely incredible.  But his voice is just sexy in general, really fabulous.

Back when he was still with Celtic Thunder, he sang a spectacular section of “Amazing Grace.”  I think he did the best job out of all of them.  To view his part, go to 2:10.

STILL think he’s the best.  WHAT.  A.  VOICE!!!

Needless to say I love his voice and stage/screen persona.  If the writers/producers/directors of Glee are smart, they’ll hang on to this Irish supernova of adorable talent with both hands and not let him go till he refuses to stay.

I love you Damian McGinty!

Marble Beauty

I found her very beautiful, in a hard, unfeeling sort of way.  She reminded me of a statue, just as rigid and half as inviting.  Her eyes were distant, cold.  Smooth skin, three shades lighter than caramel glowed in the pale light. 

She was thin and small, barely five feet three inches tall.  Her slenderness only emphasized the delicacy of her frame but the muscles in her arms and legs were defined and clearly visible. Bones and tendons showed though the exquisite skin of her hands and faint bluish veins drew intricate designs beneath the surface. 

Her jaw was fine and just a degree rounded enough not to be considered angular, cheekbones, not high but rather mild, tinted the barest flush of coral. 

Glossy dark hair of burnished mahogany curled gently around a heart-shaped face.  It spilled down her shoulders and over her collarbone in a wave of soft, loose ringlets.  Pressed together, her bottom lip was slightly fuller than the top and a lush rosy pink.  She had not the barest hint of a smile. 

A small freckle dotted her cheek just to the left of her lips, pretty.  Elegant brows arched gracefully across her forehead.  Large dark eyes stared out from under curving lashes.  They held an unavoidable attractiveness, something about the color.  Like pools of sweet melted chocolate, they were liquid and had a faint sheen.  It was strange to me how they looked melted and warm while having such a frigid glint. 

I never understood why she was so distant, forever a mystery.  

Her name was Sahar, “dawn” in Arabic.  But she was not Arabian.  Indeed, she was fair as Dawn herself, just as soft and glowing.  

Sahar’s voice was quiet and sharp, but it had a lovely lyrical quality that took the edge off her tone, easing the bitterness. 

She didn’t like me, not one bit.  So we never spoke and I retreated, admiring from afar, that perfect marble beauty.