Hello there. It’s February of 2020, just after the commencement of a new year and a new decade. It seemed like the right time to attempt an undertaking, in this case the formal organization of all my social media shitposting into a properly manicured, public-facing blog.

This is an introductory post, intended to establish some kind of continuity between what I have been doing (Instagram, Twitter, etc) and what I will be doing here.

what will this blog be about?

In a word, music. This is the goldilocks focal point that allows me to temper my own specific whims (famously fickle!) with a wider subject of continued interest. I make no guarantees beyond that, lest I lose momentum.

“Interest” is an understatement, of course. If my other presences have been any indication, I have music on the brain for most of my waking hours. It has long since transgressed the realm of hobby and has become the black hole around which everything else perilously orbits. I am always thinking about music, and usually writing about it, though this is the first time that said writing will be made freely accessible, without any curation of or impediment to its audience. (Some of you may know what I’m referring to, and if you do, SHUSH!)

You can expect posts here to take a personal tack: shows I have attended, albums or artists I have been listening to, analyses and ponderings and diatribes on any or all of the above. I write compulsively, but I am not a writer; I am likewise not a critic, or a historian, or any source of authoritative knowledge, except by accident or as a consequence of love. The word which comes closest to defining my experience of music, and the ways in which it informs my life, is fan. It’s an undignified title, and not without baggage, but it is an accurate one.

what’s with the title?

“Jumpin’ in the Night” is a song and album by a band called The Flamin’ Groovies. The version I had in mind is actually a cover by The Plimsouls, which is on their 1983 album Beach Town Confidential, recorded live at the Golden Bear.

Literally, it is what I spend much of my free time doing.

The designation “rock ‘n’ roll pop harmonic thrillseeker” was lifted in its entirety from the Instagram bio of my favorite Austin rock band, Fastball. You will not find a better summation of my motives.

are you only going to write about rock music?

Not exclusively, but mostly. Rock ‘n’ roll is my first love and true love; it is a heritage which undergirds familial bonds; it is the means through which I make sense of myself and my history and identity. For me, it is the substance of dreams and memory and even spiritual meaning.

With that said, I also dig electronic music. You may glimpse mentions of that here, too.

why do you go to so many shows? are you crazy?

Since 2017 or so, I have averaged about 40 live gigs per year, which by some folks’ metrics would be considered absolutely, categorically insane. To others, this is amateur status. Yes, I am crazy, and in the pursuit of crazy I have come to know others far crazier. It’s the same basic strain of derangement we share, and the variables are 1) at whom it is directed, and 2) how bad it has been allowed to get.

The short answer is that I am an adrenaline junkie with what the experts call an “addictive personality.” Live music is the safest means I have yet devised to scratch the dopaminergic itch and seek existential fulfillment. I used to think people who claimed an ability to get “high on life” were full of shit. Turns out they might be onto something. In my case, the requirements involve close proximity to amplifiers.

when will this blog update?

For now, on Sundays. Writing and posting stuff online seems like a better use of my time than anxiously ruminating, which is how I usually spend my Sundays.

what’s the point of all this?

At minimum, and as with most of my online endeavors since the dawn of the Internet, I am compelled to keep a record of things as they are, so that I may one day look back on what was. Jotting stuff down means I don’t forget. More selfishly, it enables me to direct a narrative.

Ideally, I’d prefer for this to amount to more than archival scratchings. I have no grand ambitions, but my aim is to initiate and participate in a broader series of conversations about the music we love and why it matters.

I encourage you to reach out and tell me your story, or at the very least recommend me something to listen to.

…will you post pictures of the cat?

Cat tax will be paid at regular intervals, yes. However, Ernie features most prominently on my Instagram stories, and you should probably look for him there.

special thanks to…

Mom and Dad, who may very well turn out to be my only faithful readers (and for them alone, this would be worth it). My husband, Adam, and my little brother, Matthew. Any woman who has ever written about music, professionally or otherwise, or who has encouraged me to write: Liana Mack, Alyana Vera, Caryn Rose, Rikki Geneva Reynolds, Amy Gallacher, Kat LaRue. The friends and fans I’ve met at gigs across the country, even across oceans.

Anyone who has ever messaged me on Instagram to talk music: you know who you are. I don’t even know some of your names, but I’d like to.

Lastly, Greg Dulli and Peter Dennis Blandford Townshend, without whom I would be most assuredly lost.

Cheers until next Sunday.

-Bux