Don't Be Sore, Farmer John

I've diagnosed myself. After months of doctors, therapists, friends and a few too many glasses of wine I've figured it all out. I burned out: mentally, physically, emotionally. I needed a step back to look at what was most important to me, to acknowledge that I'm still young and have the rest of my life to be successful, and start reevaluating myself inside and out.

I stopped eating wheat.

It's funny how it took 24 years for a doctor to actually diagnose me with a food allergy, considering I've gone to doctors for my entire life and even more specialists than I care to count. The rashes, the exhaustion, swelling of my fingers and lips...it all came down to the fact that for an undetermined length of time, my body actually rejected what I unknowingly ate on a daily basis. It's been almost six months now living a gluten-free, dairy-free lifestyle. I can't say it's always easy (I am a New Yorker after all...pizza, bagels, etc) but the pros most definitely outweigh the cons. And because of this, I've started cooking more, finding new recipes and being very conscious of what I am consuming, food and other things alike. But please, I'm still a novice, so feel free to share any tips/recipes in the comments.

I've started to enjoy music.

It's hard to believe that it was over five years ago that I started Underrated at the young age of 19. A friend of mine who I've known since that very beginning told me that I started too young. I never really thought about it that way, but it has infact shed light on why I started to become so jaded towards the end. I burned out. For so long I had engrossed myself in this "music scene"—it was both my personal and my professional life and there was no start or end to the constant craziness it contains.

In short, I stopped having fun.

It's been four months since I quit CMJ and now I work in a completely unrelated field in a job I happen to quite enjoy. When the day is over, I don't think too much about my profession, instead I have the pleasure of unwinding, relaxing, and finding solace in the company I keep. But since most of the company I do keep happens to still be involved in the music industry, I now have an opportunity of being on the outside looking in.

And I quite like the view from here.

The past couple week's I've attended shows as a fan, that person inside of me that got into this whole mess at the very beginning. I've danced and sang along without worrying of who I am impressing, smiling from ear to ear in the mere revelation that this is what I actually enjoy. I questioned that too many times, I think, and now I'm more sure than ever. I love music. But I don't like the music industry, that's for sure.

Tuesday night I found myself at Pianos, a place where I've spent oh so many Tuesday nights before. But this week I felt as if I had a weight lifted off my shoulder. And I happened to catch a set but the wonderful Tereu Tereu who were exactly what I needed to experience—catchy melodies, bouncing rhythm, and a hell of a live show.

It feels good to be back.

Long Division.

His head was a city
Of paper buildings
And the echoes that remained
Of old friends and lovers
Their features bleeding
Together in his brain
And once it started was harder to
Tell them apart
He was always distracted
By the very mention
Of an open door
'Cause he had sworn not to be what he'd been before

To be a remain remain remain remainder

It has been over a month since my last severe allergy attack. What was once such a fear of my daily life is now a distant memory, proved witness only by the dozens of iPhone pictures of swollen lips and hives. Dare I say that I feel normal? I'm not quite sure if there is such a thing, but for so long of my life striving for the abnormal I'm taking much comfort in the routine, a bit of the mundane, and very much a security that things may be for the best. One day I'll feel guilty for making this change, but I have a feeling it will pass. For so much of my life I was obsessed with the idea of growing up. I wanted to be an adult, with responsibilities, a job, an office, title and telephone to call my own. I used to love going to my dad's office and pretending it was my own. And now, I've grown up. And it feels right.

I started my new job this week and it's quite a departure from my last few positions. There's a definite structure to the company, and while I may be at the bottom I feel already overwhelmed by my responsibilities, unsure of whether I'll be able to pull it off in the end, but confident in the fact that at the root of all the ways I can define myself—computer nerd is one that is always justified. Speaking of definitions, it's come to my attention that for the past five years I've defined myself by my job. I'm trying hard not to do that these days. I've also come to terms with the fact that some of my friends may have just been my friends because of my jobs. Part of life, I suppose.

Although its been rather hot and humid out in New York this week, the warmth has felt so positive on my body. I think I was hiding away for the past two months, embarrassed of myself. It feels good to be outside, amongst the city that I fall in love with more and more each day. Except when the newspaper ink ends up on my face...that, I could do without.

Since I no longer work in the music industry, I've taken joy in listening to music for pure enjoyment. One such album is the new Death Cab For Cutie one, Narrow Stairs. While it's taken me a bit longer than expected to get into it, I've grown quite fond of the West Coast band's new execution. It feels natural. We all fall into our own strides. When did I become so philosophical?

Anyways, I like this song "Long Division" very much. If only because I've started doing math on a daily basis for the first time since high school. Long division was always my favorite. Call me what you want.

Death Cab For Cutie - Long Division [YouSendIt]

P.S. How cute is my boyfriend?

Photo by Luke Robinson

Don't Play With Me 'Cause You're Playing With Fire

Now you've got some diamonds and you will have some others
But you'd better watch your step, girl
Or start living with your mother
So don't play with me, 'cause you're playing with fire

In the last week I turned 24, landed a new job, and felt relief at the fact that I no longer had to work within the music industry. Strange, because for so long its all I wanted but when I actually got it, I realized how little it is for me. In the end, I never really felt comfortable talking or writing about music, much happier to talk about what happened on TV last night or chat nonsense with a band. I never liked the business, the networking, the fake smiles and the constant look for someone better in the room. I suppose it could be true for any industry, but with the state of music these days, I saw scavengers holding on to whatever they could. And me? I was content in the back of the room, bobbing my head like an idiot.

I probably just experienced one of the worst times in my life for a multitude of reasons but I'm looking forward to a new beginning. I wasn't planning on such a change, but something tells me this happened for a reason. If this feeling of relief is any indication, I do know that I thoroughly look forward to actually enjoying music for the first time in almost five years. I can't wait to attend a show without a camera or the thoughts of how to turn this into a review. I can't wait to see which of my acquaintances are actually friends, and not just colleagues or clients in the long run. But mostly, I can't wait to not feel like such an impostor, because for so long I knew that this was not the right place for me.

One day I think I'll turn these past five years into a book. I wish that I had that short story I wrote about a life as a blogger, but its currently still sitting on that hard drive that wont start up. I'm not entirely sure if this is the end or a new start for Underrated, but I'm not too worried about giving it a label. Because, in the beginning I had fun writing about my escapades in this blog, and I only did it because I enjoyed doing it. So much of blogging now has become an institution, going against the very reason why they were created in the first place. So as long as I still like writing in here, I'll attend, and you're welcome to join me. Just don't expect too much and we'll be just fine.

Everywhere I've gone in the past week, this song has followed me. I first discovered the wonderful Rolling Stones b-side in Darjeeling Limited and haven't gotten it out of my head since. Enjoy.

The Rolling Stones - Play With Fire [YouSendIt]

Yes, I Watch American Idol

I'm often ridiculed over the fact that I watch American Idol religiously. I know that there are bazillions of people out there just like me, but I'm pretty sure they are all have a medium age of 16. I'm glad my soon-to-be-24-year-old self upped that average.

You see, I'm not an American citizen. I do feel left out in the fact that I can't voice my pick for our next president. Of course, I'm not putting our Commander In Chief in the same vein as this year's American Idol winner but the actual act is one in the same.

I didn't really like David Cook from the start. In fact, I thought his hair was stupid and I was too busy pining over the Australian, wondering how I could get his phone number other than the one Ryan Seacrest kept telling me to call. But as the weeks went by, and as everyone else was wooing over that stupid 17-year-old kid, I started to dig the psuedo-rocker's style. Sure, Cook is totally cheesy and a bit of an early 90's wanna be, but I applauded the fact that not only cold this dude sing in any range, but he also did his homework by giving the judges what they want: originality.

So as much as I'm prepared to see the other David take home the prize tomorrow night (in spite of that hideous voice crack during "Imagine" and the fact that he cannot form a complete sentence), I would still like to state my vote went to Cook. And yes, I did vote. It's the American thing to do, after all.

Save Brooklyn Nightlife

I know I haven't been updating this site as much as I want to, but I have been blogging regularly over at Limewire I'll give y'all a nice ramble soon, but for now please take notice on the bulletin below.

Tomorrow could change Brooklyn nightlife as we know it!

Community Board 6's advisory board is taking action against Union Hall of Park Slope. They are recommending the removal of their liquor license based on a group of about five people from Union Street, with no facts generated to prove any violations. I repeat... THEY ARE TRYING TO TAKE AWAY UNION HALL'S LIQUOR LICENSE WITHOUT A SINGLE VIOLATION! If this is allowed it could set a chain-reaction through the night life scene. If they can deny the renewal of a liquor license for an establishment with no violations they will be able to close down anyone they like.

DON'T LET THIS HAPPEN!

The General Board will be meeting on this and other matters at the address and time listed bellow. Show up in numbers with signs stating your support for Union Hall and Brooklyn Nightlife. The press will be there and we have to put the pressure on.

Borough Hall
Court Room / 6:30PM
209 Joralemon St.
Brooklyn, NY

Jaymay | "You'd Rather Run"

The music doesn't move you, doesn't soothe you
Doesn't prove you're worth a dime
You work 'round the clock, watch it tick and tock
But this isn't your time
Move over son, it's my turn to shine

I've been thinking a lot about silence lately, ever since someone told me that I am insecure in the quietness of life. Funny, because I always thought I cherished the in-betweens, thriving taking a step back to acknowledge, observe and imagine. But who knows what people actually think you do, or do not, do or are. It's such an impossible feat. But it has been caught in my mind, the space above that so many things run from day to day, minute to minute. There, it's not so quiet.

I cannot believe its been a month and a half since I left my job. I fret over the fact that I am still in the in-between, the restless calm where many would enjoy but I cannot stand. You have to be optimistic, I tell myself, that there's something out there. I am thankful for the small realizations that I made the right decision. Like Friday. A form of vindication, I'd say. But I don't want to get ahead of myself.

It's amazing the types of things people do on a daily basis. I find myself in offices, helping out, a temporary place for me to pretend I belong. I wonder if these people are happy with their professional lives, if that is even a reality in this day in age. I tell myself to be optimistic, that there's a chance that one can live off their dream. But there can be hiccups, and there's no reason to be insecure.

Pat and I watched The Diving Bell And The Butterfly this weekend, and I found myself rejuvenated to write. That I have this ability, this chance to express through words is something not to be taken for granted, and while it has been quiet here, I have been thinking, formulating just what to say. And then here I am, without much to say at all. It's a strange moment when you realize that this thing, the very place you bear your soul, is nothing but a page spun within the millions. And yet even so, it still has a profound effect on the exposure one feels.

I have a feeling I'll look back on this time of my life, and if I ever write a memoir, this chapter would have a terrible title. In less than a month I'll be turning 24, and one day I'll laugh at how naive I was, how there many more awkward silences, and in-between's to come. Until then I'll be listening to Jaymay's debut, Autumn' Fallin', which brings back a certain memory of much easier times.

I'm Okay, Okay....

The morning's hot and harsh.
My notebook fills itself.
The words come thick with sweat.
But it feels like someone else
is writing all of this.
Someone I just can't believe
So I mop my brow, set my pen back down.
Still me, still me

I blame Kevin Devine. I blame him for getting me into this mess, for getting me out, and putting me back into introspective thinking. The night I decided to quit my job I listened to this Brooklyn boy, and here I am, about a month later, listening again. Trying to figure it out, make sense of life and where it brings you—ow I ended up laying in this bed in this apartment and why it happened. I guess I'm just trying to figure out what my place is in this world. And why Kevin Devine, and sometimes Oprah, always make me think there's reason behind it all.

I'm glad I went to the show on Sunday. After a late night on Saturday at Pat's show, I spent much of the day in a lethargic daze, unable to envision returning to Brooklyn, let alone the same street less than 24 hours since I left it. I tried stealing some of Katie's excitement before, but found myself only harboring in on monetary situations, a conversation I had with my father earlier in the day, and the utter desire for the sigh that would be Monday. But I couldn't.

It took a few songs for me to feel lost (in a good way) in the beautiful Music Hall Of Williamsburg. Upon walking in, all I could think of was the wonder I once felt walking into North Six and how this, like everything, has been renovated, made anew. Once I put that mourning behind me, and found myself staring wide-eyed at the red-headed singer in front of me, I decided that everything was going to be okay. Because if Kevin says so, I have to believe him, right?

How could I not.

Save The Date: After The Jump, June 21

In a few short months, it will be Summer and that means the second annual After the Jump Fest! Bigger, better with even more acts and surprise guests, this year the festival takes place along side the city wide music event, Make Music New York (which itself is a part of the worldwide music phenomenon that takes place in 300 cities in 108 countries) on the first day of Summer, June 21st.

After the Jump Fest is the effort of 20 New York City music bloggers whose goal is to help new artists gain exposure while raising money for struggling school music programs. This year, After the Jump is teaming up with The Music Hall of Williamsburg and Galapagos Art Space for a festival stretching from noon until last call. In the next few months, After the Jump blogs will be making more announcements about the festival including new artists and pre-parties. Stay tuned and in the mean time, check out AftertheJumpFest.com for information on our past events and mark your calendars! It's going to be a doozy.

AFTER THE JUMP IS ORGANIZED BY:
themusicslut . batteringroom . disconap . earfarm . ryspace . irockiroll . merryswankster . softcommunication . theunderratedblog . sitdownstandup . watercoolergossip . bumpershine . themodernage . productshopnyc . subinev . punkphoto . poptartssucktoasted . stereoactivenyc . jinners

For press opportunities such as interviews with the organizers or bands, please contact publicity@afterthejumpfest.com
For sponsorship and all requests, contact producer Jennifer Kellas: jkellas@afterthejumpfest.com

Saturday.

More info here.

The Paper - 1.1

Is it wrong I really enjoyed watching the premiere episode of MTV's The Paper? Perhaps after being officially bored with The Hills today, the station's latest reality try—this time in the setting of a high school's news room—came off as witty, entertaining, and highly addictive. But maybe it's because I related to the young teens quest to become Editor In Chief. Although when I got the position my senior year, no one was plotting a coup d'etat. I don't think.

As the four gunning for the position took the walk to find the piece of paper that would determine the rest of their lives (okay, not exactly but go with me), I specifically remembered my own walk. It's the little dramas in our lives that are so important in their settings, and frankly—it makes for great TV. Who doesn't want to see Amanda overcome her patronizing and succeed at leading a staff? Who doesn't want that lame couple to break up so that it's awkward city in the staff room? And, by god, let's hope that they win all those awards again or else brace yourself for some mental breakdowns. Because in the first five seconds of the show, truth was spoken: journalists are the most important people in the world.

Amen, sister.