Hokay...
I was just perusing the internet and came across some magazine's list of best living songwriters. Andy Hull of Manchester Orchestra and Right Away Great Captain wasn't on it. In my opinion this kid is my generation's Bob Dylan, but with fewer drugged out metaphors. I think he's now maybe 22 at the oldest, with a really killer beard, a wife, and probably more life experience than anyone I know. His albums are the only albums I can listen to non stop for a week and never get sick of, because after seven days I'm still trying to figure out what he means. He's profound. No song has ever effected me like Where have you been? which is why part of the bridge (I've gotta take what I'm making and turn it into something) is tattooed around my wrist. Any time I'm getting down on myself about work, I just have to look down at my left forearm and suck it up. I just watched the documentary Whats Left Behind in which Sam Erickson follows the members of Manchester Orchestra around the South East as they tour on the verge of blowing up into the best kept secret in music. It's completely inspiring. It's the type of documentary that I went to Montana State wanting to make some day. Bands like this are the reason I love music so damn much.

I'm going to stop ranting for a second... along with the DVD came a CD of new songs and a couple old favorites performed acoustically. One new song I can Feel a Hot One has been repeating on my computer since I opened the packaging. This song sums up why this kid is going to be around for decades. You can hear their music at Jango and on their myspace page.

I could feel a hot one taking me down
For a moment, I could feel the force
Fainted to the point of tears
And you were holding on to make a point
What's the point?

I'm but a clean man, stable and alone man
Make it so I won't have to try
The faces always stay the same
So I face the fact that I'm just fine
I said that I'm just fine

I remember, head down,
After you had found out
Manna is a hell of a drug
And I need a little more, I think
Because enough is never quite enough
What's enough?

I took it like a grown man crying on the pavement
Hoping you would show your face
But I haven't heard a thing you've said
In at least a couple hundred days
What'd you say?

I was in the front seat, shaking it out
And I was asking if you felt alright
I never want to hear the truth
I want to hear your voice, it sounded fine
My voice, it sounded fine

I could feel my heartbeat taking me down
And for the moment, I would sleep alright
Invading with a selfish fear
To keep me up another restless night
Another restless night

The blood was dry, it was sober
The feeling of audible cracks
And I could tell it was over
From the curtains that hung from your neck

And I realized that then you were perfect
And my teeth ripping out of my head
And it looked like a painting I once knew
Back when my thoughts weren't entirely intact

To pray for what I thought were angels
Ended up being ambulances
And the Lord showed me dreams of my daughter
She was crying inside your stomach

And I felt love again