Band to Watch: Atta Boy

Last night a friend visiting from overseas sent me the link to a band called Atta Boy, who are just starting out in Los Angeles. Her partner, having signed up as manager to the budding group, obviously saw a winner. Thirty seconds of listening and I was a bit in love.

Atta Boy, consisting of Eden Brolin (vocals), Freddy Reish (vocals/guitar), Dashel Thompson (keyboard/vocals/melodica) and Lewis Pullman (drums), hold a combination of tight musicality and raw vocals; I think that's a promising start for such a young band.

Sourced from: Atta Boy Facebook

To me, they are a lovely mix of Kira Puru and the Bruise thrown together with some joyful elements of Slow Club (both stellar performers and, yeah, probably check them out too).

I've had their self titled EP (released February of this year) on repeat all morning. Particularly swooning over the tracks 'Boxes' and 'Paper Trail'. In my opinion these kids are definitely on the watch list for new sounds coming out of the US; having celebrity parents probably doesn't hinder the bands progression either...

You can check them out here: Atta Boy. Their EP is also available for download at a miniscule $3.49.

We live outside the touch of time...

Last night I had one of those moments where you can just exhale. When all worry and stress eases for a bit and you can breathe and be yourself.

After getting home from work, glass of wine poured, I started on what will now be known as 'The Soup to End All Problems', a hearty mixture of vegetables, lentils and chicken. Then with a knock on the door my sister was here.

Due to us living in different cities, we only get to see each other about once every three months. Also, due to my terribly hopeless phone communication we don't get to talk as much as we should.  When we do it's usually the result of one of us having a neurotic breakdown about something or alternatively, the innocent, "So, I kind of need you to transfer me some money...?" conversation.

Despite Kathleen being three years older than me, we share the advice and leadership sibling role equally. Both of us are good at being there if the other one needs a sounding board or a truthful and harsh reality check.

However, the one thing we are superb at is falling into lengthy conversations about absolutely nothing. With each of us being the person who has seen and heard more about the others life than everyone else combined, the result is an honest, embarrassing and in depth voicing of concerns or thoughts that we would NEVER say to another person.

A sibling may be the keeper of one's identity, the only person with the keys to one's unfettered, more fundamental self.  

                                                                           ~Marian Sandmaier 

And so it was with ease last night that we fell into a comfortable, no holds barred discussion about family, work, love lives, study, mortifying moments, genetic traits and those funny little things you think but should usually stay in your head.

We sat on the couch scoffing down our wine and soup, bursting into hysterical laughter and every now and again putting on the, 'ok, I'm going to give you some real life advice right now' tone.

What a warm and fuzzy feeling.

This morning I realised how incredibly lucky it is that I have someone who has seen the worst of me, the best of me and everything in between. Lucky, that despite it is sometimes tough, this person loves me unconditionally, without judgement or expectation.

So, to my sister Kathleen who shares my crazy neurotic mindset, my inappropriate humour and my genetic disadvantages - I think you're absolutely hilarious, absolutely insane and absolutely have a knack for driving me to a point of exasperation, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

Being a Hermit

People who really know me know that I love to be alone. In fact, I am usually happiest when I'm alone. If I don't get time to myself, be warned, you will have a crazy person on your hands. I literally can't stand being around people all of the time (literally, because I'd probably fall over and die from exhaustion and my brain exploding).

It is because of this need of solace that the idea of a share house terrifies and confuses my senses in equal measure. I have lived in three share houses and it never really worked for me, I would usually end up a nervous mess. You would be right in guessing that I now live alone in a studio. Ah, feel the serenity.

I think it is safe to say that I am, on some level, an introvert. The definition of which has nothing to do with shyness but instead a person who is energized by being alone and whose energy is drained by being around other people.

  

When thinking about this post it was interesting to reflect on the people around me and which category they fall in to. My sister Kathleen is the main person that springs to mind. She is an out and out extrovert. Our teen years would make an excellent base for a sitcom. Me as the socially competent introvert and her as the shy ADHD extrovert. Sounds like a contradiction, but that's exactly what we are, much to the annoyance of each other.  I'm sure most would inadvertently class us in the wrong '...vert' category.

Val Jester - It Creeps Up On You

I haven't posted in a while, but couldn't resist sharing this song 'Val Jester' by The National.

I have listened to The National's album Alligator a thousand times. Yet tonight with it playing in the background 'Val Jester' completely overwhelmed me.

I love music and couldn't get through a day without it, but I have never had such a visceral reaction to one song.

The feeling of not being able to stop bad things happening to the people I loved and cared for absolutely enveloped me. If only we could 'build a room for our loved ones' and lock the door to keep them safe, "cause one day when she goes, she's gone."

The National have that 'thing' that not many musicians have nowadays. Through lyrics and noise and chaos and silence they manage to strike a chord where you didn't even know you had one.

Here is the song.

Moments Not Milestones

Last week I turned 22.

Twenty two years seems like a lot to me, but really it's only the beginning. Sometimes it's hard to remember that and the pressure of time frames and schedules can be overwhelming. 

Like Christmas, like New Years, like all the milestones we place in our lives as gauges of how and where and why we are in certain situations, a birthday is up there with the mother of all milestones.

On a birthday we tend to lose sight of the big picture and it becomes all about us. We put a magnifying glass on our highs, lows and our 'did I actually fucking do that's'. This usually (with a few drinks involved) results in the conclusion that things just aren't going the way we had anticipated they would when we did this exact same exercise 12 months ago. It is because of this we can all relate to the lyrics "It's my birthday and I'll cry if I want to..." sad, but as a witness to myself and friends, true.

This year was different though.

Sure I cried about things, sure I was completely inappropriately drunk on a Wednesday, sure I woke up with mild regret (may or may not have been to do with attempting the Dirty Dancing lift in a short dress in a small bar, ahem) but I also woke up happy... at 4pm the next day.

Procrastination - The Trap of Social Media

We've all been here.

It's 5pm the day before an essay/article/work report is due, with all the sincerity in the world you sit down at your computer ready to punch out a truly remarkable piece of work, one that Tolstoy would surely claim as his own.

Fast forward to three hours later...

You have managed to update your Twitter status seven times, do an in depth stalk of three old high school crushes, watch an episode of 30 rock, pin artsy pictures on Pinterest and update your profile on LinkedIn.

If you are a social media marketing manager, job well done.

If you are the rest of the world, chances are the work you have actually completed consists of a heading, a blank page and a blinking cursor anticipating something to be typed on a Word document.

I'm sure it took Tolstoy at least a few hours to come up with the title War and Peace, but if your headline consists of 'GOVT3236 - Analytical Essay' I don't think you can claim the time frame as deliberation on the English language.

What do you do when your dream comes true?

Why, hello! What's that? What did I do last week?

At the risk of depressing you because you aren't me, I participated in a flash mob and made all my dreams come true. I also had beetroot dip for lunch and that was good as well.

Sorry? Am I winning at life? Yes... yes I am.

This was how excited I looked... except more so.

You read correctly folks, I was part of Sydney Uni's first flash mob. If you're asking what a flash mob is, I would say, have you been living under a rock you ignorant fool and secondly, I would point you in the direction of a previous post 'Flash Mob on the Bus'.

In the aforementioned article you will also find out that my love of a flash mob is not just a fly by night obsession, oh no, it has been a long and dreamy road full of what ifs and 'we should all be breaking out in synchronized dance right now's'.

So what next? What do I do now that my dream has come true? Get a new dream, that's what. My updated dream shall be achieving world peace. I expect to complete this in the same time frame. Give me 22 years.

Peace out peeps (that's right flash mobbing turns you into a gangster). Hellz yeah.

Check it out below! There is an official video of the flash mob coming in the next few weeks but this is some raw footage from the crowd.

Balls... Yes, Balls

Or more precisely curve-balls. The attribute of these sneaky little suckers is that they come flying at you during the most inconvenient times. Usually this time is when you are in the process of thinking, "Hell yeah, I've got this shit covered". A feeling which lasts a few hours or if lucky a few days, then poof... gone, the feeling smoke-bombs* on you.

Something happens, or multiple things happen, or nothing happens and you just start to wonder - am I in over my head?

We've all been there and in the moment it is quite terrifying. No one wants to drop the balls that are in the air but what do you do when something comes along, right as you're about to catch them, and swiftly hits you in the stomach? Is it possible to still catch them, or at the very least pick them up?

I've certainly just been hit in the stomach. Right when everything was in the air and right when I was feeling that, yeah man, I have this shit covered. As it turns out, I didn't.

Why didn't I? Because I left absolutely no room for life to happen around me. It was me, my balls and that awesome feeling. (Is this starting to sound X rated... you know I'm talking about juggling balls as a metaphor, right?)

People in Glass Houses

This year in my quest to do it all, I was on the hunt for volunteer or internship work at an NGO. Not only am I really quite obsessed with human rights and equality, but I also study International Relations and Social Policy, so this kind of work would certainly complement my studies.

In my search I came across a position to do communications on a locally run campaign by the international development organisation, Oxfam. The position was to work on 'Close the Gap', an initiative which aims to close the life expectancy gap, of almost 20 years, between Indigenous Australians and the wider community in one generation. It also aims to close the gap in mortality rates of Indigenous children under five years old, who die at more than twice the rate of other Australian babies.

These are staggering figures when we consider that we live in a democratic, first world nation with health and welfare benefits. One would expect these figures in a developing country but in Australia... surely not?

I have always been a huge advocate of international aid and development and fully thrown my support behind refugee rights, women's empowerment and grassroots development of the earth's poorest nations. Admittedly, I never looked in my own backyard. If I had, I would have seen the violation of numerous human rights, from land ownership to health.

I had always naively assumed that in a country full of people so quick to judge and condemn other countries on questionable actions toward their citizens that we should be pretty free from human rights violations ourselves.

How wrong I had been.

While you were sleeping...

I just saw this video and thought it was pretty spectacular.

Watch for the two books with black and white covers dancing together. It's the sweetest thing.

'The Joy of Books'