Camp Revival

There are many Duffy stories, and they are all good. A lot of them involve snow, wheels, soda pop, and a bunny suit. Some of them can only be mentioned in situations where no one will remember them. I will share a more orthodox one.

In addition to being an all-around awesome dude, Patrick “Duffy” De Armas is a Renaissance man. He does it all, and does it well. Currently he commits much of his time to his artistic endeavor, Electric Coffin. With a studio situated in the ultra-hip/sketchy Pioneer Square area of Seattle, Duffy’s work has already garnered much praise and attention from art connoisseurs, hipsters, Chileans, and wayfaring bums. His work, OMG pictures, musical selections, and peculiar videos can be found at his Purple Razors blog.

The anecdote that I will share takes place at one of his shows. Duffy, playing the cordial host, sidled up to a passerby taking in one of Duffy’s compositions. The stranger shook his head and said to Duffy, “I don’t know man. I am done with art.” Duffy inquired as to what the fellow meant.

“Well just between you and me, it seems like everyone calls themselves an ‘artist’ these days. I mean, no disrespect to Duffy, but this is dumb. Duffy is dumb. This isn’t art. A five-year-old could do this with some paint and a decent amount of boogers.” Duffy nodded his head, taking the offense calmly. He thanked the man for coming, and returned to the crowd with a grin. Why a grin? Because a five-year-old had made it with boogers. But the five-year-old was actually Duffy’s pet alien and had used the boogers of a brontosaurus. Duffy had accomplished what he wanted with the piece. By employing an extra-terrestrial and using prehistoric boogers, he had made his artistic statement: that the piece was both “Out of this world,” and “DINOmite.”

Duffy defies social classifications. He is an Arizonan that loves the snow. Hence, his selection of “Cell Mates” by The Bronx is true to his nature. Mariachi, punk, and sweet and clean enough to introduce to your grandmother. Just like Duffy. “Cell Mates” sounds a bit like Vampire Weekend when played on an old radio inside of a rusty pick-up truck rumbling down a Sonoran road. Except it would be Vampiro Fin De Semana, because when you listen to an old radio while in a pick-up truck in Mexico, everything will have a tint of mariachi.

“Cell Mates” by The Bronx

let•loose•and•have•a•ham•burg•er.

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Mayer Hawthorne “Your Easy Lovin’ Ain’t Pleasin’ Nothin’” from the album A Strange Arrangement.

Interesting note: The music video for “Your Easy Lovin’ Ain’t Pleasin’ Nothin’” was shot in one take.

I recently discovered that it isn’t that hard to write a pop song. My cousin has a toy keyboard with all of these preset hooks and rhythms in it. I pushed buttons for a couple of minutes, got a beat going, some simple riffs, let my fingers dance back and forth over no more than three keys. Then I started to sing about the sea turtles that were swimming around on the television. I was rather proud of myself. I told myself that I could even consider myself an “artist” if I took the angle, “Yeah, I don’t have any talent and put very little effort into this song, but that makes me cool because I did it and just didn’t care. I’m awesome, follow me on Twitter.”

Nut Brown may have made their tunes the same way. They may have been watching the same turtles on television. But my composition doesn’t hold a candle to what Nut Brown has. Perhaps it is innate talent, experience as the front-man of Vancouver’s They Shoot Horses Don’t They, or superior equipment that gives Nut Brown the edge. I don’t know. But I do know one ingredient that goes into the Nut Brown hopper. He has gusto. He is all about what he is doing. The course is set, the fires stoked, and Nut Brown is at the helm. Full steam ahead.

Nut Brown – I Need A Love Like That

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Nut Brown – Welcome Back

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Nut Brown has made the album “I Really Do” available for free download at http://nutbrown.net/. Get after it.

As brothers, Ian and I have many ways in which we relate concerning music. We both have a remarkably high tolerance for Irish folk music and The Three Tenors. We know far too many “Oldies” songs, and we both have reoccurring nightmares in which we and our friends are forced to listen to “A Prarie Home Companion” while being shuttled to soccer practice. We also know of those albums that the other bought during those confusing pre-teen years, and will carry these secrets to the grave.

But Ian and my musical inclinations are different as well. Despite Ian’s promotion, I could never get down with Andre Nickatina. All the cocaine, guns, and loose women were a bit too much for me.

But Ian and I reconnected recently on hip hop. He invited me to check out Mash Hall, the product of Seattle based cousins djblesOne and Ronnie Voice along with slew of other musicians and dancers. They have a sampling technique that is unique and innovative, but also has that west coast crispiness that is so easy to get pulled in by. Mash Hall gets bonus points for slick titles such as The Greatest Fuckin Adventures Of Bruce Illest – Streaks & Blurs & Shit.

Here’s the track that Ian is digging, from Mash Hall’s “They La Soul” album.

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Visit Mash Hall’s bandcamp page for all kinds of goodies.

can•not•stop•blush•ing

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Danny and I used to work together. I really enjoyed working with Danny because we shared an appreciation for cursing and granola bars.

Then Danny quit.

I know Danny is off doing better things which is well and good, but what an asshole. Now, I feel much more awkward about cursing in front of day care groups and talking to customers with my mouth full of some organic snack. Danny, come back. You know how much I hate being productive and professional.

Danny recommended I listen to The Hoots Hoots

and I had planned on featuring them quite some time ago. But because Danny is a co-founder of Hoot House Productions who produce The Hoots Hoots, I decided to wait on it a bit. Danny is co-founder of Hoot Hoot Productions, so I was concerned it might appear as if we at Camp Revival only promote our friends. But Danny isn’t my friend. He betrayed me, so there is no conflict of interest in my sharing The Hoots Hoots.

Hoot Hooters Adam Prairie, Chris Prairie, Leah Julius, Geoff Brown, and Christina Ellis know how to make a good song. A hearty foundation, splashy percussion to get you out of your seat, a smattering of funky guitar and synthesizer riffs, topped off with some smooth and sweet vocals. Plus, any reference to Calvin and Hobbes is as good as gold to me. Take The Hoots Hoots for a spin. And then go see them Monday June 7th at New Crompton in Seattle.

And if you see Danny there, tell him I am hurt.

‘Transmogrified’

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‘all•clear’

Snowmelt

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