It used to be an annoying flex in the '90s of my childhood to claim that one didn't own a TV. Which is ironic, because that decade was probably the last true golden era of network television. Nowadays, we have lots of various-sized screens, streaming the sort of content that would look like a sickening, lysergic vision of Hell to the TV-avoider from that end-of-history decade of my teens. We're all going absolutely nuts on our preferred screens, a radioactive crater of unregulated mental illness that's mimicking culture while replacing the outlines of the destroyed promontories of our former attention spans. This is true regardless of your particular generational poison, whether it's the atrocity of cable news, or a gibbering YouTube landscape peopled with video game sprites and musical toilets. And while Tik Tok has a little merit, if only because it occasionally drops truth bombs about Palestine amid a fog of cryptids and celestial/zodiac spellcasting, I don't partake in large doses. Homeopathic schizophrenia is enough for me, thank you. I'm currently trying to break my news-junkie Twitter habit, and have found (surprise, surprise) that the cure is in music and books. My old faithful geysers, always ready to decant the steam from the caldera without destroying the landscape. No need to pop your top, even if it's an election year. Consider listening to the track I named this week's column after, the opening tune from the Scottish band Felt's fantastic debut record "Crumbling the Antiseptic Beauty," and let the arpeggiated jangle defrag your psyche. Claim your own stake in what's left of the summer, without distraction, and go in peace. Live your life.
Cheerio.
Thursday
It's once more unto the breach for our dear friends from Portland when living country legends Jenny Don't and the Spurs return to the 707 to do what they do best: swing, sing and honky tonk the night away. The Logger Bar is a perfect spot for such fine fare, so be sure to roll by around 8:30 p.m. lest you miss the goods. As of press time, this show has no cover, but even if that changes, it's never much to darken these doors, and always a good idea to bring some cash for the band anyway.
Friday
Speaking of returning friends from Portland, The Shivas are being hosted at the Miniplex tonight at 8:30 p.m., celebrating the release of an album appropriately titled Can't Stop Coming Around. Expect more of the same glorious, fuzzed out and harmonious true rock and roll that has made this act a hip household name for the last two decades. Having done sound for these folks, I can assure you, they are the real deal, and fun all around. Don't miss it. Our lovely local Widdershins will be holding down the bayside HumCo sound, making for a superb ticket for the night's listening pleasure. ($15, $13 advance).
Saturday
It's the final night of the Daze Between Festival over at Humbrews, a three-night musical encomium to the Grateful Dead. Tonight's band is Jerry's Kids, and, no, I am not talking about the long running Boston punk institution from the early days of hardcore. Quite a different scene, in fact, with much different Jerrys as the namesake. Tonight's musicians will be joined by Stephanie Hartwell-Mandella to celebrate all things Garcia, a week ahead of the 29th anniversary of the Dead troubadour's astral plane departure. 8:30 p.m. ($10).
Sunday
August is upon us, which means that summer is tightening up imperceptibly, winding back and preparing to toss us out of the warm zone and into the chill like Ray Brower's ghost leaving his corpse and Keds in the wake of the train. For many of us, this means we have certain rituals to observe, particularly when it comes to cinema. My favorite late trimester summer film is M.Hulot's Holiday, but that's never gotten the big screen treatment in all my days back in the 'boldt. Stand By Me, however, has, and will run again at the Arcata Theatre Lounge tonight at 6 p.m., where you can revisit the end of the '50s junior odyssey to the remains of the unfortunate Mr. Brower. I suggest getting there not long after the 5 p.m. doors, if you fancy a nice seat and a shot at the raffle, Tickets are $8, $12 if you want to leave with a poster.
Monday
Mohama Saz is a psyche-rock act from Madrid, Spain, that jams in modal keyed riffs that draw out a sonic etch-a-sketch vision of pathways, minarets and half-step Arabic curves reminiscent of a cultural landscape built by Trajan and the Umayyad. Touches of the muezzin meeting the Monkees tick the needle's dense geography over these melting vinyl wax tracks of droning delight. I liked what I heard. You can make your own assessment tonight at 8 p.m. at the Miniplex, where an early week show will ding you $15 ($10 advance), and local support is provided by the fellow globe-trotting wonderfolk in The Uncredible Phin Band. It's a quiet night, but don't sleep on this one.
Tuesday
It's an early-week metal night in Eureka, but tonight's venue isn't ye olde comedy club, but rather, the Siren's Song Tavern a few blocks deeper into Old Town. There at 6:30 p.m., you will find a fine mix of touring and local grinders, with Paradise's Aberrance, Contra Charge from Chicago, and Minneapolis' Infuriate holding up the road dawg end of the deal. In the other corner, we have local champs Bloodspire and Echoes of Rumination, both of whom are known to shred hot jams, despite the latter's inscrutable logo artwork (my eyes are getting old). All of these bands for a $5-$20 sliding scale, maybe think about coming in on the heavy side of the weigh-in in deference to the traveling bands.
Wednesday
First Wednesday of the month means all things fusion jazz over at the Speakeasy at 7 p.m. The sounds will be provided by the very capable hands and ears of local quartet RLAD, and the price of admission is a refreshment and some moolah for the boys in the band if you are up to it. Not bad at all.
Collin Yeo (he/him) lives in Humboldt County.