Last week I experienced a brief moment of pure detachment, a period of silent grace — for the language of God is nothing if not Silence — while lying in the bed of my truck on some scraps of plywood, a flat tire propping up my legs. Pure quietude, no thoughts, no images beyond the blue sky above me, just … nothing. The German thinker Johann Wolfgang von Goethe tells us, “The blue of the sky shows us the basic law of chromatics. Let us not seek for something behind the phenomena — they themselves are the theory.” In that spirit of observation without seeking, I found myself saved — very briefly — from the babble of what has been an increasingly disturbed and unquiet mind. I stopped thinking to allow myself a breath, and another, and once more again. Some rare gasses fed the engine of my spirit and allowed me the chance to think once more holistically about the larger world, the pearly dewdrops and fiery bullet holes of reality, the space where a small man can reach out the arms of his mind and touch the whole planet with tender devotion. Nothing under the sun lasts forever, but there was infinity in those brief and passing moments of emptiness. The ragged burnout of a dry, searing motor was muted in sound and temperature, allowing a fever to break — one I was unaware even existed until it receded into the frozen clouds. I am sharing this with you as a rhapsody, a harmonic sequence of blue silence blanketing a black despair because I can’t help but wonder if there aren’t a few of you out there who might find some solace in the existence of such a silence, and the chance to be stilled in a silent way. I know after four decades of heartbeats and heartaches I would have certainly benefited from this knowledge of Nothing more than a few times. At the risk of rubbing against a particularly overdone and potentially obnoxious cliché, it really is all about the notes we don’t play. Choose your music wisely.
Thursday
James Xerxes Fussell is a Southern singer, guitarist and musician who specializes in covering — and thereby preserving the live enjoyment of — the traditional music of that region, an artform that covers quite a lot of ground in the lands between bluegrass, country, folk and the blues. His 2024 record When I’m Called is appropriately on Fat Possum Records, a label that has done much to promote the practitioners of the old school, “dirty boots” style of music. He will be appearing at the Miniplex tonight at 6:30 p.m., with Daniel Nickerson, our county’s own musical treasure from the same vein of pocket gold ($20, $17 advance).
Friday
Jason Beard of alt-bluegrass act Poor Man’s Whiskey is putting on a proper banger at Humbrews tonight with his new band Bring Joy. Expect lots of high-energy covers with a little help from his many friends in his other projects. The night’s second set will be centered around songs from the near-universally beloved Graceland record by Paul Simon. Seems like fun to me and, if you agree, grab a $17 advance ticket ($20 at the door) and roll through around 8:30 p.m.
Saturday
The Cal Poly Humboldt Recital series presents an evening of video game music — it’s billed as an “adventure” but I feel that goes without saying given the genre — performed by pianist Ryan McGaughey. Tickets run from $20 to $5 for children and CPH students with I.D., and there will be minigame giveaways and an air of audience engagement, again, much like the genre demands. I am admittedly many years past my gaming era but I still consider the music to the game Super Metroid to be one of my favorite lo-bit soundtracks ever, so I can appreciate the allure. The fun starts at 7:30 p.m. at Fulkerson Hall.
Sunday
The Creative Sanctuary, our beloved Arcata venue that was ravaged by a storm cycle late last year, is still putting on shows as an artist’s collective, albeit at different venues because of an ongoing effort to restore the previous spot. Tonight at 7 p.m. at the Arcata Playhouse is the kickoff of the Jazz is Peace series, featuring a celebration of the music of late great Billie Holiday, whose 110th birthday is this Monday. Come join James Zeller, Katie Belknap, and singers Sara Kei and Marina Benson as they perform the music of the incomparable Lady Day. The $15-$30 sliding scale price goes in part to help restore the Sanctuary.
Monday
Savage Henry Comedy Club is hosting another one of its inventive shows, this one is called Sick (Ken) Burns, where comedians are shown vintage photos from the early days of American photography and are then asked to extemporize a voice-over “letter home” based on the pictures, in the style of Ken Burns’ iconic Civil War documentary. The fun starts at 9 p.m., and admission is free, free, free.
Tuesday
There is a musical being named Minka about whom I know next to nothing beyond what I have gleaned from promotional material online. Last night they were at the Logger Bar, tonight they will be performing at the Kaptain’s Quarters, presenting a free dance party that is advertised as clothing optional, a claim which I find somewhat dubious. But what do I know? I don’t have much in the way of information about this enigmatic music machine, so perhaps, as the showtune suggests, “anything goes.” Regardless of my ignorance, you can enlighten yourself by checking out this free gig at 7 p.m. And nude or not, fix up, look sharp.
Wednesday
Two comedy open mics tonight, and unlike the Montagues and Capulets, not star-crossed or at odds with one another, as far as time goes, as you can enjoy them back-to-back. The first is an hour of mic time at the Crisp Lounge starting at 6 p.m., and the second rolls out the carpet at 9 p.m., at Savage Henry Comedy Club, hosted by Jeff Diehl. Both are free admission fun.
Collin Yeo (he/him) thinks that more people should yell at Jared Huffman and every other elected liberal who greased the skids for the fascist rollercoaster we are all now strapped into. It’s our right as Americans, for now.
This article appears in Taco Week 2025.