When nice people think dumb things, attack, and vote – Armalite
I seem to have reached a point of repetition, of bands at least. Oh well, who writes about or gives any exposure to this most ephemeral of bands these days? Anything i can do to ressurect their profile and delegate them in my own slight, almost invisible way as a notable at the least, great at the most appropriate, band, i will.
Will i ever hear anything from Armalite again? There always seemed to be this sense of impermanence about them, and that seems to have been fulfilled. Maybe they do still play the odd show, confined to where their lives, schedules, and other responsibilities allow, but what good is that to me? A record sent to the other side of the globe, played to myself in a room, all involvement, benefit and inspiration found in that listening room, is what i need.
I’d like for Armalite to do something more. Who else is going to sing about type 2 diabetes, the French New Wave, growing up and punk rock warnings thereof from a post of being already grown up, the permanence and effect of one’s life set apart from punk’s lofty ideals, being in the system and writing from that perspective, and those moments in life where, separated from punk rock and agreeable company and now in the real world, you find yourself having to deal with the differing, sometimes hard to swallow political views of otherwise nice, compatible people, and the volume of such people in the world becoming more and more apparent to you (as in this song) – all done in the best DC influenced pop punk in the past five years?
Armalite were an older band, i.e. a band full of older people. It’s nice to know no matter how old i get there will still be that older band to look up to and not only make myself feel better for not being as old as i possibly could be, but also have that band with life experience to impart with perspective i don’t yet have. Makes me feel like a kid again. But these four people had already achieved far more at my age than i have. Plainly. They did things.
Oh, look what came in the mail today:
I’m such a loser.
-33.721666
150.310668
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