The continuum of American politics since the honeymoon wore away in the Obama years has come with a basic axiom that things will stay the same while they somehow continue to get worse. As the faux chrome of change peeled off 44’s machine and rusted over with the same decayed patina of the horrors of the Bush era, the machine still — somewhat perplexingly — accelerated forward into the dust storm that caused those very horrors. Decay and ennui, with a nauseating sense of dread, all mixed with a feeling of being stuck in the mud, cold, bored and increasingly lonely, while the tide slowly rose, lifting the massive yachts on the horizon, and nothing else. This is the legacy of neoliberalism, a form of painted backgrounds, heavy perfumes and stagecraft pantomimes to cover the rotting corpse of liberal democracy and provide cover for the grand dismantling of our social contract. Like post-Soviet Russia under the American puppet Yeltsin, the oligarchs rushed in to strip-mine the ore from the social state and dramatically lower the lifespans of the legions of poor bastards whose existence relied on any notion of a cooperative society, a concept Americans my age and younger have never even experienced.
Well, it’s come home and we have billionaires headed back to the White House, but they were there many times already, under many administrations. This current administration which will sunset — sundown? — in January had such colossal crimes against humanity that its supporters literally put their fingers in their ears and “lalalalala-ed” as they walked past people of conscience protesting the genocide it is aiding and abetting. But even a billion-dollar war chest couldn’t get people to ignore a hideous moral vacuum and diminished personal returns. Likewise, when people talk about the horror of the future, I point to the present and tend to get the same “lala” treatment. Fine by me; I am not being paid enough to teach anyone anything anyway.
I’ll just point to some lyrics of this week’s title song by the English glam pioneers Slade:
“How does it feel right at the start?
And how does it feel when you are thrown apart?
‘Cause many years from now there will be new elations
And new frustrations
How does it feel? … Do you know, know, know what it’s like
To be searching and suddenly find
All your illusion, all your confusion, all left behind?”
Have an illuminating week.
Thursday
If you are a fan of rip-snortin’ DIY rock with camp ‘n kitsch stylings, along with many other shiny components from the underground garage, you simply must head over to the Siren’s Song Tavern tonight at 8 p.m. This quad car squadron of bands is well worth the $8 door ding, with Seattle’s The Intelligence joining up with Alice Sandahl (formerly of La Luz), along with local darlings Clean Girl and the Dirty Dishes and Hey Eleanor. Va-voom!
Friday
The McKinleyville Teen and Community Center is not a place that gets much mention in this space but that changes now. Tonight at 6:30 p.m., under the Beaver (or Frost) Full Moon, there will be an art happening on site, where for $20 attendees can enjoy food and drink while perusing various pieces of object d’art which will be for sale. The event culminates with a live painting by Duane Flatmo, executed to live music provided by Oryan Peterson-Jones. The resulting art will be the subject of an auction at the end of the evening once the masterwork is complete. Sure sounds like fun to me.
Saturday
While Saturday night’s alright for fighting, who wants to do that, when you can instead pour out the excess pain as a member of the audience of a truly ear-shattering, cathartic show. I’m talking about the mighty Blackplate, who will be shrieking its barbaric yawp from the stage at the Siren’s Song Tavern tonight at 8 p.m. Also on the ticket is Drag City records band Prison, a quintet from Rockaway Beach, New York, that slides out the jams wearing roller skates for kicks. If you listen, it will all make sense ($10).
Sunday
Clan Dyken returns to Humboldt County on the 33rd iteration of its Revive the Beauty Way tour, an ongoing eco-minded musical project and fundraiser for the Native people of Big Mountain, Arizona, who are continuously fighting relocation from their land due to the expansion of a massive coal strip mine. The band delivers supplies and the labor of its members as an act of solidarity with Native people resisting exploitation and displacement as a result of the devastating scars of global capital. If you would like to support this highly worthy effort, head over to the Arcata Playhouse tonight at 6 p.m., where there will be a pre-show dine and gab where you can learn more about how you can contribute. A $10-$20 donation is requested, but NOTAFLOF. This one is special, so if you have the time and resources, you will be rewarded with a great show, also featuring Hap Hathaway.
Monday
The Miniplex is the place to be tonight for some excellent compositional guitar work, experimental, augmented acoustic, and otherwise. Hard to pin these artists down, although having done sound for opener Meg Baird from Winter Band, I will say that she has one of the finest voices I have ever worked with on the soundboard, matched only by her uniquely tone-poetic guitar playing. Headliner Alan Licht is the real head-scratcher, though, as he seems to mutate sonic structures from pedalboards and light electronics to more traditional and superbly played acoustic guitar with the deceptive camouflage-ease of casual genius. Lots of darkness these days but tonight will brighten things up some. Show at 8 p.m., $15 at the door.
Tuesday
Speaking of the Miniplex, tonight sees another sonic chapter unravel in the Book of Tone, as Montreal’s Suun rolls through town to share an electro-harmonic mix of future songs. Almost too weird a mix of synthetic and organic compounds to faithfully describe, I’ll just suggest you see for yourself at 8 p.m. Advance tickets are going for $17, $20 at the door, but factor in the attached Richards Goat Taco Tuesday night starting up after the bar opens at 6 p.m., and you might find a proper enticement. Also, the delightful Mister Moonbeam opens the show.
Wednesday
It’s the penultimate performance of Logger Love Stories tonight over at — where else? — the Logger Bar at 6 p.m. A performance of tales of love lost and found, found and forsaken, and all in between, which went down in this storied old establishment. Kind of like Edgar Lee Masters’ Spoon River Anthology, but in a bar instead of a cemetery. It’s $20 and a limit of 60 seats, with a warning from production that this hour-long show will sell out. Enjoy.
Collin Yeo (he/him) isn’t saying that this is the death of technocratic, corporate liberalism, but it should be. He lives in Arcata.
This article appears in Community Connection.