Spring hits the streets this week and the build-up in the air has been absolutely blooming with sensual ions and ozone for anyone with the right peepers. The forces of the Earth churn on through the wasteland detritus of human ambition and we can still feel and be animated by those primeval forces despite our civilizational handicap. By all standards of adaptation, moral progress, functioning systems and intelligence, we should be gentle stewards of a vast world of interwoven life. Instead, we commit the most perverse atrocities imaginable because the parasitic worm of Eden mocks the helix of nature and deforms our DNA. But that’s another conversation for another time. I want to talk about my rites of spring and ask after yours.
Nothing’s getting less expensive these days but, as I mentioned above, the ancient movements which compel the world roll over the cheap market stalls of humanity and nothing comes freer than a good night walk when the weather turns itself over from the cold antagonism of winter to the fecund love nest that feeds the appetites of springtime. My night walks sometimes involve trespassing through the guardrails of the afterlife. I’m talking mostly about cemeteries here, although beaches full of low-tide offerings from the dead subjects of prehuman evolution are another fine circuit as well. To love life is to feel its pulse jolting through and around the many mineral totems left behind by the departed. Especially at night, when the blooms of the sun close shop and the fragrances and sounds left behind shift like furtive ghosts through the vast and deafening silence of the inquisitive darkness. The gardens of the night stretch deep into the underworld to find their power from the dead sunshine of a billion days buried in the unfathomable timeline of the universe. All of this is free in the vulgar human moneychanger sense of the term, but it certainly isn’t cheap.
Creeping around the margins at night does eventually bring me back to the way home, which involves streets and traffic after the bars shut down and the cops pull over patrons. Fast, loud cars. Bright lights and gasoline, sometimes a heavy low-end to compliment the high wail of the exhaust, industrial explosions squeezed into a horny little calliope with all the gaudy artifice of Versailles and the mass production of McDonalds. Private nightclubs with the lurching comical deadliness of Big Bullet Bill from Super Mario. I have watched from the sidelines for years when war horse go-carts do battle with the public. I have seen the many victories over the small-fry schools of hooting, wet pedestrians, along with the devastating losses racked up when the home team cops flex bigger lights and a superior offense. Although not my sport and not my equipment, it’s all good to me and I’ll still watch if it’s the only thing on. If cheap thrills didn’t work at all, there’d be no market for lottery tickets and gas station boner pills.
Let’s refocus, though. I’m writing on a new moon about our relationship to worship, partly to avoid thinking about the larger atrocities of the degraded human world. The prophet Isaiah spoke of his hatred of new moon religious feasts during careless times of blind sin. I’m choosing to lean into nature over plastic sabbaths. What are some of your favorite moves when things start blooming? Maybe you’ll find something stirring below.
Thursday
Northcoast Preparatory Academy is throwing a fundraiser for its music program at the Arcata Playhouse tonight at 6 p.m. Come through and check out some fantastic local talent — many of whom are educators themselves who have broken HumCo containment — including Jenny Scheinmann, James Zeller Matt Rollings and John C. Wood. Tickets are $20 a pop.
Friday, the Vernal Equinox
The Logger Bar is hosting a night of the music of Loretta Lynn, featuring the One Night Stand Country Band backing up vocalist Siena Nelson. Also on the bill is The Brothers Demarkov, featuring the two talented Jeffs, DeMark and Landen. The fun starts around 8:30 p.m. and there’s no cover charge at the door, so perhaps tip everyone on the clock from the bar to the dancefloor.
Saturday
Tuva is a small Russian republic which sits astride southern Siberia and northern Mongolia and has gained some notoriety for the multi-tonal throat singing practices of its semi-nomadic population. Every time the subject comes up in this column, I use the opportunity to plug the fantastic 1999 documentary Genghis Blues, which covers the journey of the blind San Francisco musician Paul Pena — author of the song Jet Airliner — to said republic to compete in a singing competition there. Lovely stuff. Anyway, 1999 was also the year a traditional Tuvan ensemble called Alash first got together, and they’ve been traveling the world ever since. A much-welcome return to fair Humboldt for the lads is going down at the Old Steeple tonight at 7:30 p.m. If you can help it, do not miss this one. I can assure you that hearing this music live is absolutely transformative, and the venue in question is a perfect vessel for the trip ($35).
Sunday
People Power for Palestine is throwing a mutual aid benefit for the people of Gaza featuring live music and an auction. Regular readers of this space know my feeling on the matter, so I’ll just suggest you dig deep for the $10-$20 sliding scale donation and come enjoy the music of Makenu, RA MHTP, Bosporus and The Land Sisters starting at 4 p.m. on this, the first Sunday of spring.
Monday
This is the darkest side of the column regarding fresh information because I’m writing everything up a week previous and Mondays tend to be quiet as they signify the arbitrary start of the 9-to-5 hustle. Any last-minute info comes too late, so forgive me if I’ve missed a crucial gig. Meantime, enjoy the flowers.
Tuesday
Let’s round out the week with a couple of loud shows. Tonight’s all-ages affair at 7 p.m. at the Siren’s Song Tavern leans more on the hardcore and art side with Seattle punk quartet Distest bringing an air siren battle sound to a bill that includes locals Pest, Mystery Meat and Warbird. Tickets run a suggested $10-$20 and are a good investment for a show full of d-beat energy, rats of NIHM vocals and furious guitars.
Wednesday
Tonight’s offering at Savage Henry is more groove and stony psyche heaviness rolling from out of town like a lysergic siege machine. Headlining this tour is Nashville trio Howling Giant, backed up by tourmates Insomniac from Atlanta and Elk Witch from Medford, Oregon. The doors open at 7 p.m. and the show costs $10 in advance, just under $15 at the door. And more to the point, this is the debut of Presence, a “sludge pop” band according to songwriter and Open Head Records runner Luke Aronie, whom you might recognize from his time in Biomass. That info alone should bring those in the know to this one like hungry grazers after the spring rains. Cheers.
Collin Yeo (he/him) offers a great course in free entertainment for anyone who can foot the lab fee.
This article appears in The Foilies 2026.