Who Needs Sleep? I've Got Law.

I know.  Yes, I know.  June 22nd was a long time ago.  I know it's November.  Believe me, I know.  Let me let you in on what's been going on since my last post in June, in case the 7 people who read this want to know.  I didn't get a summer job.  I went to California.  More on that later.  I started law school.  I've worked for 7 weeks with no paycheck.  And did I mention law school?  Oh yeah, law school, we'll get to that.  But first, apologies.  There is absolutely no excuse for not writing from June to August.  That's a damn long time with nothing to say.  Let's just chalk it up to laziness and be done with it.  Kind of like how Dave Chappelle had a nervous breakdown and stopped making one of the funniest shows in history to go live in obscurity in Africa.  It's exactly like that.  But once August 18th hit, this was the last thing on my list of priorities.  August 18th was my first day of law school, and let me tell you...it's something else.

I'm not complaining because I'm pretty goddamn happy right now, but it's a shitshow.  It is a crazy fucking mess.  Lots of reading, lots of writing, little sleep, high stress, tons of coffee and more reading.  But you know what?  I love it.  In undergrad, I just did what I needed to get by.  I know it's shocking.  But in law school, what you need to get by is not the bare minimum.  What you need to get by is to do everything.  If you don't do everything...well how should I put this?  You're pretty fucked.  My friend Chris puts up an away message sometimes that characterizes law school perfectly.  It says, law school is like being punched in the face repeatedly until eventually, you like it.  That's pretty dead-on accurate.  The crazy thing is, I love that feeling busy.  I like to relax as much as the next guy, but sitting around all the time waiting for something to do just sucks.  When you're actually doing something you feel accomplished, like you aren't some worthless waste of a living being.  Call me crazy but I like feeling that way. Accomplished, I mean.

Here's the thing.  You need to have a balance.  If you're just doing work all the time, you'll kill yourself or live trying, which is worse.  The balance is crucial, it's what keeps your sanity.  Luckily, I've surrounded myself with a group of people who are just as bat shit crazy as I am, most of them more so.  I think that's why I've only felt overwhelmed, truly overwhelmed in a hate yourself kind of way, one or two times.  My friends fucking rule, without them I'd hate my life and law school with it.  We usually hang out after class (night classes), either going out for a beer or just hanging out at someone's place.  On the weekend, it's a free-for-all.   I don't think I even partied this much on the weekend at UConn, at least not since freshman year.  And that's a lot what this is like, freshman year of college.  It's that same formula that you know all too well.  First, you meet people that you're going to be around all the time.  In undergrad it's who lives on your floor in your dorm.  At law school it's the kids in your classes.  Second step is the getting-to-know-you phase.  You hang out with these new people and test your limits, seeing how far you can go in showing them who you are.  Once this is accomplished and you're comfortable enough, let the shitshow commence.  The only difference in law school is that everyone is at least 21, most of them older, so you can go and do what you please.  Thats what makes law school so much better than undergrad, the freedom to do what adults do.  That's the other interesting thing, having older friends.  They give you perspective.  I have older friends from home, but not ones that I hang out with almost every minute of the day.  While I just graduated college, many of my law school friends have been out for a few years now and have been in the real world.  This wisdom can be helpful when you're naive and need a kick in the ass, as I do pretty much all the time.  And they kick my ass a lot, so to speak.

So that's law school in a nutshell.  It's demanding, rewarding, maddening, insane, fun, terrible, awful, great, and inexplicable all at the same time.  It makes you use your brain, it makes you conquer fears, it makes you nuts, it makes you hate and doubt yourself, and it picks you up again when and if you succeed.  As far as I'm concerned, anything that can make you feel so many different conflicting things is at the very least interesting enough to take part in.  Now whether that's worth being $80,000 in debt for the next decade is another story.  

Next time: California, land of opportunity, unfathomably bad traffic, and hot asian chicks.

Don't Take The Brown Acid

"Don't take the brown acid."  This is all the advice my Dad had for me before embarking on what I expected to be the most epic journey of my life so far.  I wasn't disappointed.  I was going to Bonnaroo, a 4-day music festival in the great state of Tennessee.  And that isn't a sarcastic jab at Tennessee, I really did love the place.  They have Sonic, beautiful state parks where you can go cliff diving, and they host big hippie music festivals.  Sounds like a solid state to me.  But of all the things that my Dad could have told me before going there, "don't do drugs," "don't travel alone," "don't speed," the only thing he really said until the night we left was, "don't take the brown acid."  I wasn't quite sure how brown acid differentiates from regular acid, but apparently it's not good for you.  Not only did my dad tell me this, but numerous times throughout the weekend I would hear random hippies yelling out, "don't take the brown acid!"  If hippies aren't condoning it, then it must be pretty fucking dangerous.  Since I know you're curious, yes I did Google brown acid.  Apparently, at Woodstock in 1969 there was an announcement made that the brown colored acid was giving people bad hallucinations and freakouts.  The announcement was simply, "don't take the brown acid!"  So there you go.  

The journey started at 10:45 p.m. on Tuesday, June 10th.  We wanted to leave so we would get to Tennessee during the afternoon sometime, and with a 16-hour drive we figured 10:00 was a good time to leave.  Factor in packing and lateness and 10:45 was the final departure time.  The bad thing about leaving then was that there was a thunderstorm underway.  We had to pack the car in rain and thunder and lightning, causing us to pack it as if we had the brains of 10-year olds.  Needless to say, the ride down was less than comfortable but we pushed on through.  The first landmark that I'd like to mention is Sonic.  Now, for years I have been seeing Sonic commercials on TV (even though we don't have it in the North) and pining after the glorious-looking food they have there.  I finally had it in Pulaski, Virginia at about 8:00 a.m. Central Standard Time.  It was delicious, and unfortunately some people believe eating at the same place twice in one day, although it would have been at least 7 hours apart so I don't see what the big deal is, is not something you can do.  For this reason, we only had Sonic once the entire trip.  But we did have Arby's, which we have on Route 10 and can have whenever we fucking please.  Who knows the next time I'll eat it again?  Probably not for another couple of years.  But hey, at least I'm being optimistic.

Now for the fun stuff.  We got into Bonnaroo early thanks to Chase's friend Kurt who had been there 4 times before.  We got in on Wednesday night and avoided waiting in a 12 mile line to get into the farm where the festival was being held.  Clutch.  As for getting our car searched, let's just say that we could have brought an entire pharmacy with us if we wanted.  The search consisted of patting on our bags as the guy said, "just clothes in here?"  Then he looked in one of our three coolers and said, "just beer in here?"  And that was it.  Let me repeat myself.  That was it.  It probably helps when most of the staff working at the festival is high.  I leaned out the window to ask a girl directing traffic how she got the job and she just yells out into the air at nobody in particular, "I made love to your motherrrrrrrr!"  I'm pretty sure she was high, but you can never really tell.

In Manchester, Tennessee for four days in June, the laws of America are suspended.  I didn't see a single police officer.  I didn't see a single security guard.  I saw "safety personnel."  I saw every drug known to man.  I saw people doing them whenever and wherever they wanted without a single bit of worry.  Not only that, but I didn't see a single fight or argument the whole weekend.  The only arguing was between me and the kids I went with, and that's about it.  The place was so laid back, you could take a dump in the middle of a field and people would just think you were tripping balls.  Here's an example.  The first night, me and Chase went to go see Dark Star Orchestra, a Grateful Dead cover band.  Out of nowhere, several hippies busted out nitrous tanks and started selling balloons.  If you don't know, nitrous cuts off oxygen to the brain.  Really dangerous and stupid.  If you've ever done it, you're an idiot.  But apparently it's popular among the hippies and especially among the Deadheads.  Anyway, I saw a big fat guy with four balloons in one hand and three in the other.  I was tempted to ask him how he planned on inhaling any of them with his hands so full, but I had a feeling he'd figure something out.

Since you probably still hate me from my mind-numbingly boring Pantheon posts, I won't talk about any of the bands I saw.  I'll just list them here:  MGMT, Battles, Dark Star Orchestra, Nomo, Umphrey's McGee, Les Claypool, State Radio, Cornmeal, Donavon Frankenreiter, B.B. King, Jack Johnson, Pearl Jam, Phil Lesh, Lupe Fiasco, and Robert Randolph.  I also saw a few comedians, Chris Rock, Louis C.K. and Mike Birbiglia.  Every act was great, and that's all I really need to say about that.  I personally recommend every one of these bands, and if you want to know anything about the ones you don't know, just ask me.

You're probably wondering why I didn't list Kanye West in there.  Here's why:  He was scheduled for 2:45 a.m. on Saturday night (Sunday morning) which is ridiculous in itself.  I don't know this for sure, but he was originally going on during Jack Johnson on the secondary stage and since he's a selfish fuck he probably said, "I'm Kanye West, I'm not playing during another headliner and I'm sure as hell not playing anywhere but on the main stage."  Anyway, 2:45 a.m.  Pearl Jam was supposed to play from 10:15-12:15 but played an extra hour for some stupid reason.  They played All Along the Watchtower.  Are you kidding me?  Thats just unnecessary, and a little ridiculous.  So they started setting up Kanye's set an hour late, which I guess takes a long time to set up because it's a huge light show.  It got pushed to 3 a.m., then 3:15, and eventually he went on around 4 or 4:15 a.m. depending on who told you the story, because I sure as hell wasn't awake.  He played til 5 a.m.  Thats it.  So he got booed off the stage, naturally.  I mean I know you went on late but 45 minutes?  The tickets were upwards of $230 you bastard.  I'm sure Lupe Fiasco was way better anyway.  So thats what happened with Kanye Overrated West.  I'm not mad. 

Now, when I said there wasn't a fight or argument the whole weekend, you are probably thinking "get the fuck out of here."  But I'm about to tell you the secret.  At Pearl Jam, my brother was telling me that he had bumped into someone while walking earlier in the day.  He said, "sorry man."  The guy then says, "it's cool man, it's Bonnaroo!"  Scott then heard this at least a dozen more times throughout the day.  Apparently as long as you say that with your best hippie voice, you can get away with anything.  As soon as he's done telling me this story, a guy walks by and steps on Scott's foot.  The guy goes, "sorry, bro."  Scott fires back, "it's cool man, it's Bonnaroo!"  Swear to God, it's like magic.  The guy just walks away smiling and goes on his merry way.  Fucking incredible.

Two more things that I did that weekend.  First, we went to the Jack Daniel's distillery.  It was awesome.  You could get drunk on the fumes alone.  No, they don't give out free samples anymore.  Bullshit, I know.  But we did get lemonade at the end, and it was the best lemonade I ever had in my life.  No joke.  Second, we stopped at a state park on the way called Rock Island.  It's basically a big dammed-up river with giant rocks and cliffs and waterfalls on either side.  It's beautiful.  We went cliff-jumping to cool ourselves off before we made it to the campsite.  Chalk one up for the South.

Overall, the whole experience was amazing.  You want to know if I'm going next year, because that's always everybodys question.  I can't say for sure, but it would depend on what bands are playing.  While it was a sick trip, it was really physically and mentally taxing, especially being in close proximity with the same people for long periods of time.  Plus at times it was excruciatingly hot and smelly.  Yes, smelly.  Showers were 7 bucks and I'd rather buy food.  You would too, trust me.  So the bands playing would just have to be earthshattering for me to go back.  Think Muse, Radiohead, Incubus, bands like that.  

So that about sums up Bonnaroo.  If you want to see really great music and do whatever you want in a consequence free environment, it's the place for you.  Just remember, don't take the brown acid.

Prelude

Tomorrow night at 10 pm I'm leaving for Bonnaroo, a music festival in Tennessee.  When I get back I'll come out firing with two posts, one about my Bonnaroo experience and the other will be a rant on why sometimes I hate sports.  And by sometimes I mean any time I'm watching a team that I'm a fan of.  Stay Tuned.

Beautiful Disaster

While I work on my next post I decided to put up a short story I wrote for creative writing last semester.  I got an A- so I suppose it's not terrible.  A few notes about it: this is not autobiographical, it's only in first person because I like writing in first person, and I stole the title from a 311 song.  So there you go.

Bits of broken glass fell to the dashboard, a sparkling shower of sharp edges that washed the dashboard but never cleaned it.  It reminded me of a Febreeze bottle, spraying a wide array of sweet aroma onto my favorite sweatshirt.  That’s how the glass went, a wide spray onto everyone and everything.  Then the screams.  Not normal screams like when your little brother pops out of your closet and scares you.  Not even movie screams, which are over the top and unintentionally hilarious.  Not even Sandlot screams, you know like when Ham lets out an epic frightened yell every time the Beast thwarts their plan to get back the Babe Ruth ball?  No, these screams were different.  They were the screams of a person in unfathomable pain, a person who already knew their life was no longer in their own hands.  Picture Clarece hearing the lambs screaming, it was that kind of horrifying.  Blood drifted across my bow like liquid in space.  I wanted to reach out for it God knows why but all I could feel were pins and needles.  Those damn pins and needles.  There was nothing I hated more.  Waking up at 5 am and feeling nothing but cold rubber for a hand is frightening.  Now, in what should be my most painful moment, all I can feel is the familiar tingling of those dreaded pointy metaphors.  Thanks, God.  I always thought you were a prankster.  I looked around to see if the others were all right.  It seemed out of place considering my situation, you know the whole flying through the air being on the brink of death thing, but I couldn't help it.  It was in my nature.  Unfortunately, I couldn't see anything except twisted metal and the glass shower.  Whatever the condition of the other people in the crash, I’m sure they were dealing with it just as I was dealing with mine.  Now, they say that your whole life flashes before your eyes in the moments leading up to death.  “They” are wrong.  It doesn’t flash, exactly.  And it isn’t your whole life.  It’s your future.  An endless freight train of “what ifs” barreling through your mind.  What if I live through this?  What if the 90 year old man hadn’t cut off the Wrangler in front of me?  What if his kids or grandkids put him in a home, instead of letting him out on the road?  What if the last encounter with my parents hadn’t been a fight this morning?  All these questions bombarded me as I floated through the air, but as I approached my landing, my mind became surprisingly clear.  The pavement was seconds away.  I thought back to last week when I got my breaks redone.  It was funny to think about now, since the breaks really had no bearing on whether I lived or died.  They worked to perfection and I still skidded into the guard rail.  Once I hit that, it was over from there.  Let the flipping commence.  New brakes?  What a waste of a couple hundred bucks.  When I get home I’ll be sure to tell my Dad not to waste my--     

7 Deadly Sins

Everybody has things that annoy them, otherwise known as "pet peeves."  I have just a few.  But these are more than pet peeves to me.  These are so bad that to engage in any of these activities or interact with any of these things could result in possible death.  They are Satan on earth.

1.) Broccoli: The worst thing on Earth.  The smell of it alone is enough to induce gagging.  At camp my kids knew that I hated broccoli and a small Dominican boy would fill a bowl with broccoli at every meal and approach me while hysterically laughing.  Cooked, raw, sauteed, in Chinese food, it doesn't matter.  Eating broccoli is just about equal to eating boogers to me.  It's gross, and should never ever be allowed in society.  Not only that, but it looks like a little tree.  Humans don't eat trees people.  It's wrong.  Trees are for breathing, not eating.

2.) Mayonnaise: Mayo is gross.  It's white, it tastes weird, and it doesn't belong anywhere except tuna fish.  It's ok in tuna fish because that's how you make tuna fish.  You can't eat tuna fish without mayo.  Otherwise, mayo can take a hike.  Who wants disgusting white shit oozing out of their sandwich?  Not me.

3.) Needles:  Just stay the fuck away from me, needles.  You hurt, and the only time that you're used is if something might be wrong or you have a destructive drug habit.  Nothing good there.

4.) Dentist:  Check back to my earlier post about the dentist from January and you'll see why I hate the dentist so much.  Those goddamn sharp little metal hooks.

5.)  Bad Drivers:  Why do people feel that it's appropriate to pull out in front of you way too late and then drive really slow, even if its the speed limit?  There's no cars behind me, asshole!  Wait for a second and then you can drive as slow as you want!  I'm obviously going fast enough that when you pulled out in front of me I had to slam on the breaks and I honked my horn at you because you're a moron!  What did you expect, for me not to ride your ass?  My blood pressure is going up just thinking about it.

6.)  Girls who say "like" every other word:  What the fuck is this about?  Why are you inserting like into every sentence 40 times?  You sound like an idiot.  Why don't you form a coherent thought first before you open your mouth?  Is that difficult for you?  If the answer is yes, just don't talk at all.  Please.  For everyone's sake.

7.)  Crowd Surfing:  I can't tell you how many concerts I've been to that instead of enjoying the music I was looking around to make sure a huge dude wasn't going to fall on my head.  First of all, crowd surfing is only appropriate at punk concerts or other concerts where most of the crowd are huge tools.  Just stop it.  Second of all, if you're 6'4 you shouldn't be crowd surfing.  You're going to break some poor girl's neck, and the whole time all I'm doing is looking around for you to make sure I don't get killed.  You aren't cool because you crowd surf, you're actually just that asshole that everyone is thinking "wow this guy is a huge douche for making all of us surf him through the crowd."  Get over yourself.

So there they are, the 7 deadly sins.  See you on the road.   

The Pantheon (Part 4)

Alright let's finish this thing. Forgive the short descriptions for these last songs, I just have a lot of shit to do.

8.) Don't Forget Me by Red Hot Chili Peppers: I think that when Flea was born, he was born to play this song. His bass drives the entire song, there aren't really any guitar riffs even. The whole song John Frusciante (amazing and underrated) plays random background notes and runs. The best part of the song is the guitar solos, and if you are going to listen to this song listen to the version from one of their live albums, Live at Slane Castle. His guitar tone is dirty and raw, and the last solo from the live album he shreds just impossible sounding licks.

The meaning of the song is up for debate, some people think it's about drugs (most likely) and others think it's about a girl that he loves. It doesn't make a difference either way, the lyrics are cool and fun to sing along to. Here's my favorite lyric:

I'm the bloodstain
On your shirt sleeve
Coming down and more are coming to believe
Now we know it all for sure

There is just a sense of permanence associated with a bloodstain on a shirt sleeve, like he is part of her and she'll never be able to wash him away. Now she only has two options, either wear the shirt anyway, or throw it away never to see it again. The implication in the song being that she can't throw him away, so she wears the shirt anyway. It's quite a deep thought.

9.) Hard Times No One Knows by Ray Charles: The message is so simple, but then again Ray Charles has a knack for turning simplicity into art. The message is simple: you have to fight through the hard times in your life, and all you can do is pray and get through them. That's all. There's no happy end, just a series of verses that are about living through hard times. You might think the song is lame or too slow after you first start it, but the last two verses are worth the wait. Ray just belts them out, almost out of nowhere. It's such a pleasant surprise, and it gives you such hope that a man could go through so much and still sing like everything in the world is great for him. A really beautiful song, I couldn't resist putting it into the Pantheon.

10.) Voodoo Chile by Jimi Hendrix: This shouldn't be confused with Voodoo Child (Slight Return), which is a faster song that if you don't know by name, you'd recognize it if you did hear it. It's in movies sometimes. No, this is a 15 minute guitar orgasm from the mind of arguably the greatest guitar player to ever live, although we'll never know for sure because he died so young from all the acid he took. There are lyrics scattered in, which are all cool in their own right. The song's lyrics say that he was born under a red moon and his mother knew that he was a voodoo child. Like I said, acid. Anyway, the good part of the song is that he plays the entire song, and most of the song is just him soloing for 15 minutes. That's all I can really say about it. It's Jimi at his best, and if you're in the mood to hear really good guitar playing, this is the song for you.

Well that's it, The Pantheon. I hope you enjoyed it and at least tried to listen to all of the songs. Coming soon: something definitely, NOT music related.

The Pantheon (Part 3)

Aaaaaaaaand we're back! Coming in hot at # 5 is another Jeff Buckley classic.

5.) Grace by Jeff Buckley: The really creepy thing about this song is that he almost predicts his own death. The lyrics:

And I feel them drown my name
So easy to know, and forget with this kiss
I'm not afraid to go but it goes so slow

Strange, right? The rest of the song's lyrics are basically about how his time has come and such, essentially making it a suicide song. Obviously, that's not why I love this song. It's another one of those "turns something tragic into something beautiful" songs. Also, it's another one that's impossible to describe musically. The only things that I can say about it are the same things I said before, Jeff Buckley is just a masterful singer. The whole song he does impossible runs and reaches a range that only dogs should be able to hear. The end is very intense, as he sings the lyrics above in an almost screeching voice. If you listen to the song, wait until the very end and I mean the very end. When he sings the last line he just rips some hard inflection into it that gives you goosebumps. I'm really sorry but I can't describe it any better than that. The whole song is beautiful and very introspective, which is great because we get a sense of how he's actually feeling and not just some bullshit he made up to sound cool. A lot of music today is exactly that, bullshit. Some writer in a room that nobody knows about writing some stupid love song that a pop singer or popular band plays. I'm not saying all music is like that. There's still plenty of great artists that actually have talent right in front of your face, which is our saving grace to the mainstream manufactured music that pollutes our culture today. Wow that sounded really pretentious. Sorry folks. I know everyone has different tastes. For example, many people like Bon Jovi and U2, when I happen to really hate both. But I've written before that music affects people in different ways, so I shouldn't have said that about mainstream music. I think it sucks but obviously people like it that's why it's mainstream. Back to the song. Deep, beautiful, wonderfully sung, and he just crushes every note like he'll never sing it again. That's another reason why I appreciate Jeff Buckley so much. Did you know that when he recorded this album he wouldn't stop recording a song and moving on to the next one until every single note was exactly perfect? He really does sing each song like he'll never sing it again, because once it's perfect where else can he go? Grace really will blow you away, I promise.

6.) Deep Inside by Incubus: Alright Chase, this is for you. I picked this song not only because it's my favorite Incubus song and I couldn't make this list without one, but because it reminds me of a time when Incubus was just on a completely different level. Here's the thing, I still love Incubus and their past two albums (A Crow Left Of The Murder and Light Grenades), I think that it's still really good music and I'll listen to it and love it a lot. But when my friend Chase points out things to me about them now, I can't help but listen to these albums a little differently. Important note, Chase has been a big Incubus fan since forever and knows every song inside and out so, his opinion is relevent. Anyway, I don't like them any less, I just acknowledge that they aren't the old Incubus. Chase disagrees. I'll explain. After the album Morning View, which I'm sure you know songs from (Nice To Know You, 11am, Wish You Were Here), they broke ties with their original bass player, Dirk Lance, who gave them a deep groovy sound and a drive that they no longer have. They took on Ben Kenney (formerly of phenomenal hip-hop group The Roots) and made two more albums. Ben Kenney plays with a pick most of the time instead of with his fingers, something that makes the bass sound really different if you know what to listen for. This annoys Chase to no end, and while I don't believe that bass should be played with a pick, I don't crucify him for it because when they play old Incubus songs he plays with his fingers to get the real essence of the song. It bothers me a little, but I hardly ever think about it when I listen to the albums to be honest. Anyway, that's one thing. Also since he's entered the band, Incubus has gone from a harder sound with a lot of groove songs, to being noticeably lighter on some songs. They still have hard songs, it just doesn't sound the same. The other thing that pisses Chase off a LOT (and I actually agree with him on this on the same level as him) is that superhuman guitar player Mike Einziger switched from a Paul Reed Smith guitar (perfect for rock and soloing and the perfect guitar for the old Incubus) to a Fender guitar (on the request of Ben Kenney since he plays a Fender bass). Fenders are great obviously, but not for Incubus. They are more for blues, something that Incubus does not do. They are really stripped and don't get the same type of sounds and tones that Paul Reed Smiths are capable of making. As a result, guitar riffs in newer Incubus pale in comparison to old Incubus (for the most part). For me, these points apply really only to the albums, because their newest concert DVD called Look Alive is ALL new songs from the past two albums (with the exception of 3). And I have to say, this DVD is amazing. Brandon Boyd sounds better than he has ever sounded, with every note dead on. All the new songs are played with precision, and Mike makes it work with the Fender in a live setting. They're just a great live band, so no matter what I think about how the albums sound (again, I love these albums) it's completely different live. I even showed Chase the DVD and he liked some of the newer songs. By the way, Ben Kenney is incredible on this DVD.

So, just to sum up, I love Incubus (obviously if they're in the Pantheon of Bands) and I love their new music, but just not as much as the stuff pre-Ben Kenney. After that long-winded and probably unnecessary explanation, lets talk about Deep Inside. It starts with a bass riff and then the guitar and drums come in to a moderately paced groove. The cool thing about the song is that every so often it just goes into this hard rock riff where Brandon Boyd screams the lines and then it goes right back into the mellow riff. It sounds like it wouldn't flow, but since they're Incubus they make it work perfectly. There's a short guitar solo in the middle, after which Brandon Boyd comes in with a verse and the band starts playing like they're winding down the song. Then almost out of nowhere, the guitar comes screaming in and Brandon sings along with the first riff to exactly what Mike is playing. It's unreal. Then the rest of the solo Mike just tears it up for about 30 seconds as the song gets a little faster and takes it home. The groove is in full force here with the bass driving it and the guitar screaming in your face. A great song, a groovy song, and a real Incubus song.

7.) Plane Crash by Moe: This is probably the hardest song to describe in this entire list, primarily because Moe is a jam band and they are so unpredictable with their shit. The song comes in at a nice long 8:54 because it's jam-packed with so much stuff. It starts off with this string melody being played by maybe 3 or more string instruments. When I first heard this song I was like "what the fuck is this I hate classical music," but when the strings part ends (which is actually a really cool part), a lone guitar comes in and plays a riff that's soon joined by the entire ensemble. The best way I can describe this part (where everyone comes in) is that it's like an epiphany. It's like everything that was missing is now here, and it makes you just want to raise your hands up to the sky and pretend you just had an awesome idea. After this part, it goes into a faster paced groove where the verses come in. This is where I have to stop and describe my "Phases." This song has 3 phases. The part I've been describing is called Phase One. It's the main lines of the song that include all the lyrics and establishes basically the essence of the song. Towards the end of this section, they have a few guitar solos with the strings part from the beginning layered in over it. Very, very cool. The solos in this section are very, uh, riffy I guess you could say. I'm making it a word. They have a lot of sick riffs thrown in that are the definition of blues. After that the strings layer in and from there it's on to Phase Two, the solo section. This starts at 6:09 into the song. This entire phase is guitar solos. There are two guitar players who basically after a single guitar solo start trading off with each other while more and more instruments are added. Phase Two ends with a section that could best be described as one guitar playing a repeating riff that gets louder and louder while the other guitar solos over that, and little drum breaks are thrown in every so often. Phase Two ends with both guitars playing the same part until the climax where it goes into Phase Three. Phase three is the last 1:00 of the song and is pretty much just a reprise of Phase One. So there's the Phases.

While this song comes in at number 7, it very well may be the most epic song on this list. Between the Phases, guitar solos and riffs, and cool lyrics about being afraid to fly on a plane because the prospect of crashing sucks, it's the entire package. If jam bands turn you off, that's OK. You should still listen to the song because of how complex it is. It might be the most complex song on this list, musically speaking. You know what, it definitely is the most complex. Also, I listened to this song the last time I was on a plane going to Florida, and before that this past summer on the way to Mexico. It sounds stupid but I just felt it was appropriate. Anyway, listen to this song trust me. Epic.

Home stretch coming soon...