I attended my first Camp Bisco during the summer of 2010. I had just graduated high school, and at the tender age of seventeen, my curiosity-fueled escapades had already rewired the gearbox in my mind. I showed up to Indian Lookout Country Club with a handful of ecstasy, an under packed bag, and an insatiable desire to push my mind to the edge; I was introduced to a world of creative madness and I quickly became enamored by it. Thirteen years have passed since that fateful weekend, and I have sprinted, stumbled, and tripped down this yellow brick road that twists and turns through a minefield of hallucinogenic proportion many times over; I can only describe the beautiful chaos as expansive yet detrimental, wondrous yet baffling, and at the end of the day, flat out inspiring.

Is it possible to have your “finger on the pulse” as a music writer while taking a hiatus? Probably not. But one does not lose their cultivated level of observance after a mere stint of physical absence. Echoes from the grapevine boom through the silence of distance and time. Distance plays tricks on us and causes our connectivity to rust; the old proverb rings true, “out of sight, out of mind.” But it is no match for one’s passion when it comes to live music and bonds of true friendship. Closeness is not always determined by spacial relativity. Time erodes the body, and even the mind, but what the spirit gains through the gifts of creativity has the potential to outlast the hands on the clock.

Lotus and Space Bacon delivered an expansive evening of celebration and remembrance at The Capitol Theatre this past Saturday. It was a moment in time that I won’t soon forget, cultivated with the distinguishable nature of intent, serving a far greater purpose than just another Lotus show.

Life gives us weeds and wildflowers, toxic moments and blossoming memories, we do not always get to pick what comes next. It is a cocktail of tragedy and euphoria, shaken and stirred, at times smooth but often on the rocks. We crave the mixology of moments that utilize the ingredients we desire most, the flavors of friends and places and things that our palettes have come to know and love. Why is that? We are powerless over the circumstances and outcomes of the outside world. And when they level you like a cocaine-fueled Lawrence Taylor in his prime, you need those people and places and things to lift your spirit. We face death and heartbreak and crippling uncertainty together. Somewhere in between the raging individualistic nature of existentialism and the blatant naivety of happy-go-lucky idealism, the harsh realities of the human condition present us with this heartfelt truth; we heal together - through friendship, fellowship, and community.

Microcave has been bubbling in the cauldron of Long Island, New York for well over a decade. The time has come for their first official offering, ‘A Small Compromise’. Long Island has produced a number of good bands, and a slew of absolute maniacs, over the years. It happens to be one of my favorite places on earth because it’s made up of characters of all colors, shapes, and sizes infused with the overarching shadows of New York City and the waves of the Atlantic. It’s not for everyone, but it’s terminally unique, and there ain’t no place like it.

Another Summerdance comes and goes like ashes carried aloft by the winds of change. At this point Lotus and Nelson Ledges have carved their initials into my creative makeup. Into my soul. I’ve explored the depths of myself and others on those grounds time and time again. This year was no different. The weekend oscillated back and forth, from light to darkness, as most things in this world often do. Anxieties were alleviated by the graceful nature of the sonic threads that unraveled from the stage after sundown. We embraced new endeavors with open arms but stayed planted in our conviction for the truth. The faces of our true friends put us at ease while others opposed the growth, ultimately, our feelings receded and gave us the space to bloom.

The Disco Biscuits returned to The Capitol Theatre after an anxiety riddled period of postponed shows and uncertainty. Both the band and venue have had enormous impacts on my life and creativity as a whole. Upon entering The Cap for the first time in years, I was sucker punched with a haymaker of emotion. Once upon a time, I spent a lot of mornings and afternoons in that building. I may or may not have blown a career opportunity there because getting high and partying was more important to me than being a professional in the industry I love. I am grateful that is no longer the case. That was then, this is now; c’est la vie or whatever it is the French say.

Spun out cornball wooks love to toss around the words “fam” and “family” like red solo cups at a Panic tailgate. A true bond is only formed through the shared experiences of highs and lows. I had the chance to travel with Space Bacon over the course of the past six months as they delivered one quality performance after another. From Denver to Philadelphia, I witnessed unsuspecting victims get their wigs pushed back by the velocity that poured from the speakers. Through the most transformative period of my life, this band and their music pushed and supported me every step of the way. When the lights go down and the curtain closes, the smoke and mirrors clear, and you get to see who is really in your corner. I can confidently say, with a clear and sober mind, that these kids are my brothers for life.

Springtime began to show its hand as a drawn out winter came to a close. It was a lovely Saturday night in the glistening city of Bridgeport, Connecticut. Space Bacon arrived at the newly renovated Park City Music Hall with presence, eager to check out the room. The new and improved layout coupled with the artist hospitality greatly improved the overall atmosphere of the venue.

There is something special about finding a band and supporting them before they ascend to new heights. They come around once every few years. They have character. They have a certain swagger. They have the “it” factor. You feel connected to them on a deeper level. You’re along for the ride and you’re invested in their success because you believe in them. You see their greatness before the world does and you want to play a part in opening their eyes. You spread the gospel to anyone that is willing to listen.

It was an unusually warm February night on the Lower East Side. After witnessing the damage that COVID-19 did to New York City, ravaging small businesses and decimating its lively energy, it was intoxicating to see it alive on a warm winter night. The streets were buzzing. The restaurants were bustling. And most of all, live music was back in a big way. Dive Brake, the power trio out of Brooklyn, was slotted for a middle set on a three-act bill at Arlenes Grocery. This was my first time seeing them live and what better place to make it happen? Arlenes Grocery is an up close and personal look at mid-90’s NYC. It’s a time capsule in a city that is expunging cultural establishments at an alarming rate.

This life presents special moments that come and go like shooting stars. They’re hard to fully grasp but glorious to witness. The headlines of the outside world briefly vanish and all the pieces of the puzzle line up. The time. The place. The people. It can’t be forced. Everything comes together naturally. All the gears engage as a well-oiled machine that is virtually impossible to ignore. This past Saturday was exactly that. Space Bacon returned to New York City for the first time in two years. It was a celebration. From Bronx basements to The Bowery Ballroom. No smoke and mirrors, just one band’s honest pursuit to evolve and carve out what they deserve.

The sky was clear as we headed north from Massachusetts to Vermont. The scenery passed by with a soundtrack of deep house and DJ Premier. It was the first Space Bacon show on the calendar for 2022. It was also their first time playing at Higher Ground in Burlington. It felt promising; a new year packed with the potential to possibly be more productive than the last. The band and crew set out to bring a wild night to Vermonters in classic Snow Bacon fashion, and they most definitely delivered.

2021. What a fucking year. Talk about a chemical rollercoaster of hopeful highs and harsh realities. I think it is safe to say that everybody learned a lot about themselves and society as a whole. When the darkness encroached on our lives, we searched for silver linings. See, I wholeheartedly believe that the human connection of live music and artistic expression in general is vital to the overall mental and spiritual well-being of our species. So when the Disco Biscuits and their crew worked to find a solution to ensure that their two-night NYE run in Philadelphia would take place, I was beyond proud of them. If that statement bothers you in the current climate, you can kick a brick wall with chancletas on for all I care.

Space Bacon played their final show of 2021 at The Point in Chicago this past Saturday. To cap off what could be described as an “off-kilter year" with a high point was rewarding for the band and crew. The overall energy of the night was positively infectious and it came through on stage. A lot of smiles and a lot of laughs. Every time the band plays a show and gains new fans that passionately approach them at the end of the night, they chalk up another W. As of late, Bacon’s energy is especially contagious.

Space Bacon is heading to Chicago for their final show of the year. The four-piece from Brooklyn is playing The Point Chicago on Saturday, December 11th with support from Downers Groove. Coming off a successful two-night run at Cervantes’ Masterpiece Ballroom in Denver and a packed out show at Ardmore Music Hall outside of Philadelphia, the band is prepared to bring their A game to a new venue in The Windy City. If you enjoy live electronica fused with high energy rock n’ roll, make your way down to The Point on Saturday for a night of live music you won’t forget.

First off, I would like to make it perfectly clear that I haven’t been following the Disco Biscuits or listening to their soundboards with the ferocity of the past. My last show was City Bisco in July. It happened to be my 100th, and they treated me to not one, but two Tractorbeam segments in the second set! I went into this Biscuits experience with no expectations. I knew their return to New Jersey (on the weekend of Thanksgiving nonetheless) would bring out a lot of familiar faces, so I was excited to reconnect with friends I haven’t seen.

Rempel’s last dance encapsulated the magic and mysticism behind Lotus and Nelson Ledges with divine sensibility. These words have been racing around my mind all week as I fight to decide whether to chase them or wait for them to slow down. These emotions have been bleeding from my heart as I shift from applying pressure to licking my wounds. To say that Lotus, Mike Rempel, Nelson Ledges, and Summerdance as a whole have had a profound impact on my life would be a gross understatement. The lessons, love, and perspective that I’ve gained through these shared experiences are priceless, and although I haven’t been able to practice and apply all of them on a consistent basis just yet, I have faith that they’ll be waiting for me once I am ready.