A few years ago I found myself banging away on a $12 Casio from goodwill in a basement in Edmonds making some weird experimental pop songs. Soon a pandemic was upon us and I decided to buckle down and learn how to make beats and use Logic to record. Some friends gave some pointers and drum kits to download, and soon I was off and running, making beat tapes and collaborating with vocalists over the instrumentals.
It was March in Seattle, and I’d just had all four wisdom teeth removed while listening to Megadeth. I was lying in bed – – healing and reading Tom Wolfe’s “Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test” – – when I got a text from a fellow singer/songwriter (we’ll call him Drew), asking if I’d like to join him for a road trip to Austin, Texas. We would leave in a few days. After arriving we’d stay with a traveling musician named DB Rouse who lived and worked on a horse ranch just outside of the city. DB had set up a makeshift recording studio in a shack on the property and had invited Drew to come down and record some songs.
My need for adventure greatly outweighed my need for rest, so I agreed to tag along.
What do you get when you combine the funky bass lines of the Chili Peppers, the haunting vocals of Nirvana, the screeching leads of Buckethead, the beefy guitars of Basement, and the powerful rumble of Balance and Composure drumming? A cacophony of styles and tastes blend into a unique representation of alternative rock music in the form of Tuesday Atlas. We just like to make songs that get stuck in your head, like a ghost in your attic.
We’re all born incomplete and aspire for wholeness.
Thrown into this world at breakneck speeds, immediately socialized by our parents and guardians, who we trust as gods with our childish, wonder-filled minds. Once, we all believed our guardians and teachers and elders knew everything and could be trusted completely.
Alas, they were all once chucked into this world too, raised up by previous generations that may have often convinced themselves that they knew what life was all about. But they didn’t. No one did.
When Beast Folk formed in 2018, we were not called Beast Folk. It was a melding of the minds of a few friends who frequented Darrell’s Tavern in Shoreline, WA. I was slated to play the Hybrid Festival in Everett. Being an acoustic performer engaged in an event that mostly revolved around metal was a jarring task of fear management. I needed a band.
I’d rather retreat into a world of sound that I made up than have to deal with the world as it’s given to me. Maybe then I can come up with a clever idea to change it. Music has always been sort of an escape for me, and sometimes I choose to isolate myself from those who love me the most so that I can just play. Solitude is great, but don’t get solitude confused with loneliness. I look at solitude as being good company to yourself and loneliness as being double un good company to yourself.
7 will be the 7th full-length record by Baltimore’s dream pop band Beach House after they released an album of b-sides and rarities last year. Coming out on May 11th through Sub Pop, you can already pre-order it and listen to three of the songs.