My time as a shut-in has not been going well. I lost my job two months ago and I sort of assumed with all of my new free time I would be able to really dive headfirst into this whole writing thing. Maybe I could improve my editing skills a bit and really put some effort into what I was doing. What has happened is I dove headfirst into hitting refresh on my Facebook page for new posts to appear, 1980’s professional wrestling and trying to figure out why my one year old is crying.

All of of this laziness and lack of adult interaction has driven me a bit mad. I find myself increasingly angry towards things of little consequence. My most recent anger has been towards internet commenters being rude towards things I care about, and even things I don’t necessarily. Here is an example: Lazerfest recently announced that they are changing venues from the outdoor space in Boone to Wells Fargo Arena. With just 12 days to go, this has put some people in a bind. I understand that changing travel plans can be a nightmare, and people have the right to be upset. I just don’t understand what the point of going to the comments section of an article about their move and complaining accomplishes.

What angers me the most, however, is the people who comment with something along the lines of “I wasn’t going to this crap festival because the lineup sucks and if your (because they seemingly always use the wrong “you’re/your”) going your stupid and deserve to be screwed. lol (because they always put “lol” at the end).” I just don’t get what sense of pleasure people get by going onto a public forum and stating that you don’t like what other people like. That you’re somehow a better human because you don’t like Queens of the Stone Age. I mean, I don’t like Theory of a Deadman but other than a poor joke on my Facebook, I don’t go around blasting those who do, especially in an open, public forum where you’re obviously just looking to pick an internet fight.

The normal thing to do is make a wanking motion and move on with your day. For whatever reason, I can’t let this shit go. I often type up long-winded screeds in response to jerks, but I almost always delete them because I know they won’t change anyone’s mind. Then that bugs me because I feel helpless towards these people. Then the helplessness seeps deeper into me and it’s just, ugh.

What does any of this have to do with Lesbian Poetry? Nothing, I guess, except that it might be the perfect album to chase away the pain of petty foibles. There is just something about Lesbian Poetry that just makes insignificant things just that.

Some bands and artists are presented in a way that they overcome pettiness and bring sheer beauty to the proceedings with their arrangements and their presentation. The pure scope, much like the electric feeling of a thunderstorm or the rushing waves of the ocean, makes that which doesn’t matter slide.

That isn’t Lesbian Poetry. They attack the overwhelming feeling of everyday life in a different, maybe more substantial way. Gone are the trappings of production and in it’s place is honesty, simplicity and a different sort of ability. An ability to tell a story. An ability to let you get lost for a moment in the words of someone else and a clear understanding about what songwriting can be when stripped down to its most simple form.

Lesbian Poetry is a simple band with a simple sound, but they aren’t simple people. What I like most about them is that the overall vibe and confidence they exude. It isn’t about being the greatest performer or the greatest musician, it is about telling their stories in their way with little regards towards what the outside world might think.

What separates this album from others is that it isn’t just a simple DIY album made on very little money because that was the only resources. It is an album presented in a DIY, low budget way because that is the best way to present it. So, it is that confidence that rings through whether it is the wonderful “Trolleys and Limousines” or the spoken word/acapella coming out tale “Joe and I”. I think “Joe and I” might be the best track to show my theory. It is obviously the simplest track, being that it is presented with no musical accompaniment, but is told with such confidence that I was spellbound.

That’s what makes Lesbian Poetry, both the band and album, so intriguing. It is the confidence to be yourself, to present your art and to be one with your life. Comfortable in their own life, their own skin and their own art. So comfortable that it makes you wonder why you cared so much about petty things to begin with.