Typhoon and grappling with mortality while living with a chronic illness

(Disclaimer: White Lighter was released over a month ago, on August 20th, but was available to stream two weeks before then. Given that time frame, it has taken me almost two months to write this emotionally-entangled post. I'm still not certain I've done their music the justice it deserves. However, I'm seeing Typhoon live on Wednesday at Rock and Roll Hotel and getting this entry published was a "now or never" feeling". It's overly personal and raw but honest.)

I'm certain this goes without saying -- music has always been one of the biggest emotionally-complex components of my life. A song can be akin to a drug: a stimulant to heighten my feelings in the best of times, a depressant to bring me back down to reality in my more manic-induced moments, or an analgesic to shut down everyone and everything. Most days, I operate with a soundtrack playing in the background.

Kyle Morton, of Typhoon, has managed to write the soundtrack to my most probable "possible death": an ultimate and slow, painful demise from diabetic complications. I never tried or wanted a soundtrack for this facet of my possible future, but with Typhoon, I allowed it.

My mother had crippling depression but I watched her earnestly embrace life, in a way I had never seen, after she lost most of her eyesight and went on dialysis, after also suffering from diabetic complications. Yet, somehow, her own daughter, without any mental illness and an insatiably passion for life, has spent the past seven years living life to the absolute fullest under the impression that life will be over the minute she gets hit with a complication. The past few years have been this surreal whirlwind of adventures, love, connections, and joy. However, I haven't really envisioned a life for myself into my thirties. Every doctor appointment is a harrowing, nerve-wracking experience. Every bad bloodsugar level is a moment of heart-stopping regret. The fundamental part of living with a chronic illness boils down to these panic moments and the anxiety-filled late nights. I have a hard time not letting this define who I am. 

I often ask myself questions.
Is today the tipping point? Is today the day everything changes? 

I discovered A New Kind of House and I couldn't stop listening. Summer Home pulled me in and shook my core. Within the first few lines Morton talks of never wanting to give up but having a body that does. He's holding out for the summer, this promise-land, where the days will be back to normal or over. This was the first wake up call. I can't be the person who doesn't fight. I can't be the person who pleads for the summer, as my days won't return to normal after the "tipping point" occurs. The idea of there ever being a "normal" in the first place is delusional. My only summer, my only promise-land is the end.

There's Honest Truth and with the lines "On my time, oh Lord I've been so blind. But now I see the light below my doorjamb. Hallelujah, it will be gone soon", death almost seems glamorous for brief, fleeting moments. Be relieved that the end is here. However, it's not difficult to hear the regret laced throughout and it makes me hesitate. Claws Pt. 1 is damaging: "We are conceived all with the same chance/ to be spared, to be salvaged, to be kept safe/ then you hope to god nothing bad will happen/ from when you're born 'til you go quietly from old". For some of us, the bad happens, "the great great beast", sooner than we wish. The beast simultaneously claws, reminds us of our fate but also provides some solace, as we know what our fate will be.

 

 If A New Kind of House wasn't stark enough, I listened to Hunger & Thirst a few weeks after. Starting Over describes the common phenomenon among diabetics who "go off the bandwagon" and come back to desperately try to get their bloodsugars well-managed. I start over every single day, where "I've started a new beginning, suspiciously like the old one, only this time I'm ready". Even though I tell myself I'm ready, I never truly am.

 

Typhoon's latest release, White Lighter, transcended all of my high expectations. On the aural front, it's pure, unadulterated, witchcraft. Somehow, the band's twelve individuals sound simultaneously cohesive and entirely jarring together. If only one audio element was removed from this album, it would not have the grandeur it does now.

On the narrative front, Morton continues to explore life and mortality. I have read his insights, published back in June, many times now. It's impossible to be blinded to his brilliance and the wisdom he has gained throughout life while suffering from an illness. I initially never knew his back-story of his development of Lyme Disease while growing up. I was not surprised when I did find out. These words can only be woven together by someone who has experienced the path of gradual death, at a speed possibly faster than the average person.

Possible Deaths is two minutes of morbid bliss. If nothing else, this song reminds me that my notion that diabetes is my sure-fire end is pure folly, as "every star is a possible death".

The hardest part of White Lighter is grasping with love being introduced as a theme. I've always thought of Common Sentiments as the prelude to White Lighter, as thoughts fully flushed out in Prosthetic Love and Post Script creep up here as well. At the end of the day, there's the reality that "you are sleeping together, but you will die alone" Is there a point of exposing vulnerability when the inevitable end won't be any different? I'd like to believe so. I began to think of the end of the song mantra as my own because "I will be good though my body be broken" and someone surely will acknowledge that truth about me but won't give a damn at the same time.

However, never in my life have I had a song describe so acutely my own thoughts with letting go of stubborn independence, as with Prosthetic Love. I think it's how he describes growing attached and learning how to count on a partner, rather than his own fingers, that strikes a chord with me. Is "attachment" a word commonly described with that nervous period of "falling for someone"? Because, it's always the word I use that no one else seems to. Attachment is exhausting, scary and difficult for someone who has a chronic illness. With being so different than my peers growing up, but having a body that could fail me, I never felt right accepting outside help. It spiraled into this possibly-unhealthy streak of fierce independence, where I could only count on my own mind to save me from myself. Is it fair to subject a partner, or anyone else, to the suffering caused by a disease they don't even have? Morton realistically captures depending on and falling for someone else, despite all the misgivings, when you've never really been able to depend on your own body or would expect anyone else to.

If Common Sentiments is the prelude to Typhoon's love story, Post Script is the all-depressing, but tragically pragmatic finale. I'm almost willing to assert the song as the most beautiful and fitting album-ending song out there. No matter what, I can only love within the confines of my chronic illness. In Post Script, Morton describes how he'll do anything and everything to make sure his partner gets the love they deserve. The thoughtfulness cannot be returned. How can someone love the part of an individual that will eventually rip them away? His partner isn't obligated to love him unconditionally, as they would also have to love the disease that will be his downfall. Honestly, I find it fair if someone with a chronic disease will never experience unconditional love. It's the compromise we make for likely being the first to leave.

Weekend Video: Pickwick @ Suzzallo Reading Room

The Suzzallo Reading Room at the University of Washington, is often considered to be one of the most beautiful library spaces in the world. I can't disagree. I spent many undergrad afternoons in awe over the sixty-five foot ceilings, stained-glass windows, gorgeous overhead brass lamps, and oak bookshelves lined with antique books. The Reading Room often draws comparisons to Hogwarts and I could always see why.

The magic of the Suzzallo Reading Room really goes beyond the university and is more-so a Seattle landmark. As of now, I'm convinced there's not a better band that captures the spirit of the Seattle music scene, than Pickwick. The band performing in the Reading Room just feels right. For this weekend, in honor of missing home but seeing Pickwick's show tonight at Rock and Roll Hotel in DC, here's an older video of them performing Blackout, acapella, in the normally dead-silent spot on campus.

Tonight, Seattle meets DC and I only hope DC can handle all that Seattle has to offer. My worlds are colliding and I truly can't contain my excitement.

(DC Friends: See Pickwick tonight. Do it. There are still tickets available and I find that crazy.)

Big River/ The Next One/ When That Day Comes by Red River Outlaws

There's something so intriguing about the Red River Outlaws and I can't entirely wrap my finger around what it is. Late night browsing on r/indiefolk is occasionally fruitful. However, last night, I couldn't decide if their songs were good because it was dark out or good just in general. Considering it's morning and I still can't stop listening, I'm convinced this is some solid work of folk. Dark, and occasionally sinister but keen.

Big River starts out with the narrator confessing all of his reasons for wanting to live outside of the law. At first, I'm not aware of what the motives are behind this desire or what the crime he's confessing to really will be. On one hand, the narrator is indubitably wise - if you make anything out of yourself, attention will be drawn to you and not everyone wishes for that fate. However, I find him less wise and far less charming when he further discusses, in vivid detail, his conversations with the devil. Conversations which likely motivated his crime of shooting the mayor. By the end of the song, I can't figure out if the narrator is evil or just mentally estranged, with the admission: "I've never found a single institution that could deal with my mind's confusion and I'll have to live in this delusion until the day that I die".

The Next One regales a fleeting lust story that ends with betrayal, death and supposed revenge. The narrator begins the tale prefacing the story will end with his death by the gallows. The story actually begins with a girl coming into town where she and the narrator make love, get caught and she sells him out to her father and the local sheriff, claiming she was forced into the situation. It's an unfortunate death sentence for our narrator. He continues in the song on how he'd rather leave his body behind than live without her and that he'll catch her in the next life. Except, he'll catch her in the next life... with a loaded gun. While revenge makes enough sense in this story, it's almost unexpected. By the end of the song, with the apt descriptions of how he'll never forget her betrayal and the painting of all these grim pictures, I'm floored with the story-telling and how the song makes my skin crawl.

When That Day Comes doesn't quite continue with the themes of the prior songs - the tale here is much more legend-based and folklore. The narrator is trying to escape the cruel hands of the earth, a seemingly-immortal who cannot convince a god to send him peacefully on. The gods here are interesting choices, a mountain god, an ocean god and a city god, each with their own excuses for keeping the narrator around.

Surprisingly enough, there's a lot to process with this project thus far. I am hoping whatever this ends up being stays true to the campfire tale/ folklore/ classic blues storytelling - it's a subset of folk music that is largely under appreciated, in my opinion. This aspect of folk music isn't always the easiest to pull off and the Red River Outlaws can execute it well. I'm also completely enamored with artwork that accompanies the videos and it adds a whole 'nother layer to the eerie vibe. The third video, while a different artistic direction than the first two, makes a wonderful use of videos in public domain.

What do we know about the Red River Outlaws? Not much. It's a project spearheaded by Seth Cronin with Sarah Rothert contributing vocals and gorgeous violin strings. We're supposed to see a new song posted about every week in September and a record is apparently on the way. I really need more of this in my life.

Listen to Big River, The Next One and When That Day Comes on Seth Cronin's Youtube channel.

Don't Come Close by Yeasayer

With every Grand Theft Auto, I'm convinced there's at least one music gem released exclusively for the soundtrack. For example, The Music of Grand Theft Auto IV, in 2008, had No Sex for Ben by The Rapture. A song which was played for a period of probably a month when the soundtrack was first released and occasionally comes up on shuffle, evoking fond memories. Whenever a new GTA game is announced to be released, I get excited for the soundtrack and not the game.

On Grand Theft Auto V, the song to love is Don't Come Close by Yeasayer. I've been a Yeasayer fan since All Hour Cymbals in 2007, which I still maintain is the greatest album of theirs and one of my favorites of all time. Odd Blood and Fragrant World haven't necessarily been disappointments, but it's been a while since I've been so excited over a possible direction this band could be taking.

Don't Come Close was recorded around the time of Fragrant World and sometimes pops up on live sets. I agree with the band's thoughts that the song doesn't really fit anywhere. In my opinion, it showcases the best parts of both Odd Blood and Fragrant World. There's the catchy, more upbeat, pop sound from Odd Blood but the song is as polished as the tracks off of Fragrant World. I think it's a good middle ground. I always thought Odd Blood was a little too erratic and Fragrant World was too aurally flat. If this is the direction Yeasayer is moving towards, I'm all for it. I'm also for the band returning to their experimental-folk sound from All Hours Cymbals, but I know that's a pipe dream.

Lyrically, Don't Come Close, isn't as complex as some of their prior tracks. However, Yeasayer has this strange ability to capture poignant feelings with their music, spanning their entire history as a band, and Don't Come Close is no exception. The line currently sticking with me, "people don't change, they only get old", is simple but all-telling. In fact, it may be time to update my Gchat status.

You can download Don't Come Close and the rest of the Grand Theft Auto V soundtrack from iTunes. Or, listen to this Youtube upload below.

City and Colour @ The 9:30 Club

The minute I saw this show pop up on the 9:30 Club website, I bought tickets. That was back in April. I painfully waited five entire months and it was more than worth the wait.

Over the five months, I had developed a few assumptions going into this show. One, Dallas would focus mostly on his new album, an album which is fantastic, but doesn't have that same emotional hold on me that his older albums do. And two, the show would entirely consist of Dallas with his guitar playing acoustic versions of all his songs. These assumptions were silly - Dallas is amazing to his fans and would never short-change us from all the C&C songs we grew up with. He also knows how to rock.

Such as the VC show, I had high aspirations of the front row. It didn't happen - I ended up being 8th in line outside, with another thirty inside. We did see Dallas go back into his tour bus after playing basketball - I think we were all too shell-shocked to say/do anything. The girls behind me weren't paying attention to anything, so my new concert buddy was able to cut the line and join me. I must say, I love going to concerts with people more so than just myself. Although, I'm convinced a person should be as passionately into music as I am to make good company. Carrie fit the bill and I hope to go to more concerts with her in the future.

Lucy Rose and her band opened. She was adorable and I could almost understand why the two sets of couples in front of me were there to see her versus C&C. The band wasn't too cohesive at first but really came together wonderfully by the end of the set. Initially, I think everyone was a bit nervous. I've been listening to her album since the show and I really enjoy and recommended it. At the very least, check out my favorites from the album: Red Face, Lines and Bikes. During the middle of the set, Lucy told the story of her and her band walking around D.C. trying to convince six different record stores to sell the album without luck before the show. For some reason, that story made me really sad. Come on, DC.

After a relatively short period of time, Dallas prepared to enter the stage. The song to welcome him on was strange and we endured an anticipatory minute for his appearance. He and his band came out and started rocking. The Hurry and The Harm was the opening song - I'm a big fan of bands opening their shows with their most recent album's opening song. It's fitting. Of Space and Time and The Lonely Life followed. I still didn't trust Dallas enough at this point to not play his entire new album. When Grand Optimist came on, I knew he'd play a great set with lots of variety. As Much As I Ever Could was an interesting first choice from Bring Me Your Love but he proved that song is underrated. Weightless was the last big rock song from the first part of the show. I can't get over how amazing it was to see that song live. After spending most of the past year with that song as my alarm in the morning, experiencing it during the show woke me up in other ways.

At this point in the show, the band left and we got Dallas all raw and acoustic. Day Old Hate was another intriguing choice that I wouldn't have expected, but greatly enjoyed. Northern Wind was dedicated to a couple Dallas had met previously in the day, who had had a special moment with the song. When I think about it closely, Northern Wind is a far better love song than The Girl. Comin' Home had been on a playlist of mine leading up to the show and I was really happy to experience it live - the song had a way of bringing everyone together to sing.

The third part of the show, once the band had come back on stage, left little to be desired. Sleeping Sickness was just not meant to be this hyped-up rock ballad. I almost couldn't keep a straight face... I feel awful about this but my conflicting emotional feelings tied to that song also didn't help. Thirst, Fragile Bird and Sorrowing Man were all good ending choices, but I was exhausted.

The encore was long. What Makes a Man? was the first song of three and Dallas went through this whole spiel to get the audience to sing with him during certain parts of the song. From here on out, we'd no longer get the chance to interact so intimately with him and it was the perfect song to start saying goodbye with. As much as I was expecting The Girl to be the song of the night, the show, for me, truly ended here.

Looking back, Dallas' stage presence made the show. He's such an approachable-seeming, humble musician. The encouragement to sing along was appreciated and he even called out all the grouchy attendees who were getting upset over all the off-key, off-measure sing-a-longs. A girl was celebrating her birthday in the front row (even had a birthday tiara) and he did a shout out to her (I'm pretty sure that made her year). He casually played off all the "Marry Me Dallas" fangirls by pointing at his ring. The man is chatty and all the interaction with the crowd made this show so memorable and his music somehow more easy to relate to. A two-hour set was long but you could tell how much he was enjoying himself. I also loved how his drinks of choice were a shot of whiskey and a beer - I wasn't expecting anything less.

I Can by the Dancing Hats

It's Friday. I didn't take the day off of work, per se, but I did decide to forgo my miserable car commute for a walking commute to the DC office. I'm almost regretting this decision entirely. I barely have any work to do, it's a perfect day outside and I'm in the dreariest office of all time. No windows. No company. The lights keep turning off because no one acknowledges my presence.

On the upside, I have plenty of privacy to jam out to I Can by the Dancing Hats all afternoon. The Dancing Hats, from what I can find out, appear to be a fun-party-sort band out of Portland, Oregon, with varying numbers of individuals contributing. Are they the next big folk super-group (ala upbeat Typhoon)? Who knows? But, I think there's a lot of potential for something.

The track is catchy and multi-dimensional. There's truly a lot going on, both lyrically and aurally. I'm not one-hundred percent sure what this song is about, but my guess is rebellion against a stereotypical life and shooting down everyone who tells you you can't live extraordinarily. At first I wasn't sold on how slightly jarring the lead male's voice sounded, but as the song goes on and he experiments with different styles, it's highly enjoyable. The female vocalist is equally fantastic and provides the balance the song needs. The random, instrumental portions prove that the band can rock out and have fun while doing so.

I don't think there's a better song to capture the end of summer.

You can listen to and download I Can on the Dancing Hats' bandcamp page (for name your price!). If you do, please rebel against office culture with me and participate in some Friday cubicle dancing.

Mix: Falling Into Fall

(jumping on the seasonal playlist bandwagon)

I'd like to think this mix is synonymous with autumn, as with the fall weather, I couldn't really make up my mind with what direction to go in. Should I cling to Summer or dive head first into Winter? There's a little bit of everything here, somehow, I'm convinced it ties together.

I love fall: pumpkin spice lattes, hot chocolate, apple cider, college football, sweatshirts, the last hookups, those little pumpkin branches from Trader Joe's, turning off the ac unit, cuddling, slower days, longer nights, open patios, and really long walks. Since I'm a Seattle native, I much prefer the crisp cool weather to the miserable district heat.

1. Stop The World I Wanna Get Off With You - Arctic Monkeys 
2. Even Better Yet - The Format
3. Don't Get Too Close - Nathaniel Rateliff 
4. Hey Stranger - Nicki Bluhm and the Gramblers 
5. Bikes - Lucy Rose
6. Promise of Lakes - Luray
7. Tessellate - Ellie Goulding
8. Play It Right - Sylvan Esso
9. Tight Rope (Live) - Yeasayer
10. World News - Local Natives
11. The Hurry And The Harm - City and Colour
12. The Breach - Dustin Tebbutt
13. Alaskans - Volcano Choir
14. Love You to Pieces - Jeremy Messersmith 
15. When You Have Arrived - Campfire Ok
16. Hunger and Thirst - Typhoon
17. I Don't Need to Know - Daniel Blue with Meagan Grandall 

Spotify

Weekend Video: Life is a Highway as covered by Folly and the Hunter

Folly and the Hunter is a criminally underrated folk band out of Montreal. While I need to devote an entire post to why Tragic Care is my favorite album of 2013 (despite White Lighter, despite The Hurry and the Harm, etc), now is not the time. I spent a few minutes of my afternoon excitedly discussing Folly with a new friend and I'm inspired to post something.

For now, enjoy this cover of Tom Cochrane's Life is a Highway. I adore how quiet the cover is. The original song and Rascal Flatt's versions embody this upbeat vibe, where the "highway" is nothing but an adventure. Here, we have a much more reflective take, where I can imagine this song accompanying me on a late night drive as I'm pondering where my life has been and where it is heading. It's honest to the intent of the original song and pulls it off in a much different, but appropriate way.

I'm convinced this band can do no wrong.

Volcano Choir @ The 9:30 Club

"This is going to be a religious experience."

I almost didn't attend this concert. Last Thursday, I was scrolling through my twitter feed while half asleep in bed. I saw a submission from r/washingtondc of someone offering up a free ticket to the Volcano Choir show at the 9:30 Club. The submission had been posted for 7 hours and no one had claimed the ticket. I joked in my message, "I bet if you had posted anything about VC being related to Bon Iver, everyone would have jumped". While true, luckily the submitter was just like me: she wanted the ticket to go to someone who was a fan Volcano Choir, not necessarily Bon Iver. We met up and she took me up on my other for my spare City and Colour ticket for Tuesday. It was another successful Reddit experience to add to my list. I'm hoping this will pan out into have a real concert buddy in DC.

Around 4PM yesterday, the weather went haywire and thoughts were pondered on facebook about whether the "9th plague of Egypt was invoked upon us by God". Less eloquently put, it poured. I listened to Repave during my last hour at work, accompanied by green tea and dark chocolate, with the rain battering against our office windows. The right mood was present.

The doors opened at 7PM and I was right on time. Upon first arriving, there were approximately twenty folks ahead of me, some with umbrellas, some without. This was fair. I had high ambitions of getting a front row spot, but it was possibly a pipe dream. When we were let into the venue, I scored a second row spot, and I thought, "this will do".

I maintain the opinion that the only downside to attending concerts by yourself is all the waiting by yourself. A man in the front row started making "pacts" and "forming unions" with the other front row attendees - it was sacred territory and no one was to push their way through.. I started chatting with him and another guy about all the other amazing music that exists in today's world. I got scolded for disliking the new Local Natives' album (I'll have to give it another shot), was given recommendations to listen to Beth Orton and Kathleen Edwards and called them out for not knowing who The Shouting Matches or DeYarmond Edison were. After giving them their space and proving I was worthy of a front row spot, they opened one up for me.

Sylvan Esso opened and more than deserved to. Currently, they have two songs on the internet, Hey Mami + Play It Right and I can't get enough of either of them. Based on what we saw, the rest of their eventual release will also be fantastic. The stage presence was playful - I adored Amelia's fun attitude and dancing. Nicholas not only did a front row shout out, but also encouraged everyone to turn the last 15 minutes into a "dance party". Unfortunately, akin to Seattle, DC doesn't really dance at shows either. I told my front row friend once their set ended, "when they headline a show here next year, I'll also be in the front row for that". Hold me to it.

After the opening, our suspicions were confirmed. NPR was in attendance to film Volcano Choir's act. The videographer set up shop right in front of me. I'm really hoping I end up on this concert video - as they usually feature the audience as well.

Luckily for us, it was a short waiting period before Volcano Choir entered. While most of the audience was holding their breath for that first look at Justin, I don't think I let it out until the entire band assembled on the stage. I drew in more deep breaths as Tiderays started playing - we were in for a religious experience and I knew it was my only chance to compose myself before the music picked up. Tiderays was the perfect opening song for this show, much like it is the perfect opening song for Repave.

Comrade encapsulated everyone into this drugged-out trance state and it was the first (but, not last) time during the night where this happened. I looked around a few times and across the venue, people had the same exact look on their face and in their eyes. When Justin crooned with the synth at the end of the song, I experienced goosebumps running down my arms.

Keel, while being my least favorite song off of Repave, gave off this aura of comfort. I leaned over to my front row friend and expressed that "I had never felt more anchored in my life".

The song that stole the show was, surprisingly, Alaskans. This is another slower song off of Repave, yet it showcases so much of Justin's abilities. However, the audience cohesively singing "Rely, rely, rely, rely, behave, behave, behave, behave/ Decide, decide, decide, decide, repave, repave, repave, repave/ Inside, inside, inside, inside, the lade, the lade, the lade, the lade" at all the right moments and with all the right sound was *magic*. Even the band was floored at how perfect the audience participation felt - they quipped about how they should have recorded the vocals then and there.

The entire concert was building up to Byegone. Or, more importantly, that moment a little over half way through the song, where we're all bellowing "SET SAIL" with our hands up in the air. At this point, I was emotionally exhausted. The closing song was Almanac. I appreciated how the concert opened and closed with Repave's opening and closing songs.

By the end of the night, Volcano Choir played everything off of Repave, Island, IS, Still and two new songs. I'm relieved that new music, or "songs without a home yet" will be coming in the future. The two new songs sounded more rock, which demonstrates the vast range of styles this band can pull off.

To close, I want to express how grateful I am to have seen Justin Vernon in a more intimate setting. Having a front and center spot, meant seeing all the intricate details that did nothing but add to the experience: his moleskine which he referenced every song (in which, we can only wonder what brilliance is contained within), the way he'd kneel behind the podium after a particularly emotional song, the crocheted piece of art covering his podium, and how he didn't speak to the audience at all during the show. Volcano Choir isn't Justin Vernon, it's absolutely not Bon Iver and and there was never any doubt of that.

Pieces & Places: Coffy Cafe

(let's discuss the music I hear in district-area bars, coffee shops and other fine establishments)

Coffy Cafe is one of my three favorite coffee shops in this city. Being from Seattle, I'm extraordinarily picky with both how the coffee is and the overall feel to a place. Coffy has a special place in my heart - the board game group I'm a part of meets here every Wednesday. The coffee is fantastic, the crepes are delicious, the service is top-notch and the best part? It's mod themed. As a thrifter, collector and lover of mid-century-modern vintage decor, I am in heaven.

Date: August 25, 2013. 

Time: Early-mid afternoon. 

Vibe: Mostly the Sunday working crowd. Things are pretty quiet.
Drink of Choice: Large Iced Americano, extra-ice. 

Rio by Hey Marseilles - "Borders can keep me if Rio will have me to dance and to drown." 

I always thought of Hey Marseilles as Seattle's music sweethearts. Rio is one of those songs that instantly brightens my day. The minute I hear the clapping, I smile. 

Reach Out and Touch Someone's Hand by Cataldo - "there's no doubt, it's time to make some new plans." 

Prison Boxing is truly one of the greatest albums to ever exist. Reach Out and Touch Someone's Hand is one of those tracks I always forget to listen to, since it's at the end of the album. I find it honestly hard to move on from Don't Lose That Feeling. But, hearing the song out and about makes me realize how much I've been missing out on.

Way Back When by Kodaline - "Those will be the days that won my soul."

I've barely given Kodaline a listen in the past and that's a shame. This song fit in well here - it has a more old-fashioned sound than a lot of indie-folk nowadays. When I looked this song up, I wasn't entirely sure it'd be modern. 

Verdict: Unfortunately, the music was turned down shortly after deciding to write this. As much as I want them to play 1960's and 1970's music to go with the theme, I'll never be upset with a typical Seattle-esque coffee shop playlist.

I encourage everyone to check out what Coffy Cafe has to offer. If you're ever here on a Wednesday around seven, you'll find me with the board game crew in the back.