Why We Are Folk
Entering the Erogenous Zone of Folk Music with The Other Band on Earth
While drawing comparisons between bands is an exhausted form of music critique, The Other Band on Earth realizes a plurality of it’s sonic neighbors from the folk-genre, if not a majority of it’s members’ personal influences; from Woody Guthrie to Maureen Carr, John Earkastle to Kerry Underwood, the same notes can be found in every song.
Happily enough, there are only twelve half-note tones audible to human ears, and folk music uses a maximum of three per song. Whereas, in other genres of music, science has shown to prove there are more than twelve half-tone notes, and dissonance can create so-called “quarter-note” tones, which are only audible at a specific 1/4 frequency related to the given tempo.
This that is brought to us through the music of the real world, or folk music. Folk music is that which is created in a vacuum of conscious awareness that it is being created or even exists within the definition of music. It is an overpowering release of emotional content that gushes from one’s ether at moments of extremity in circumstantial melody.
Embodiment of the essence of persona defines humanity. Folk impresses a bare-grit digestion of a diaspora, delivering the supreme ecstasy of intellect and carnality in confluence. Folk is a guttural, base, contradicting love. The flower that roots in the garden, takes wind by the sea.
Evanescent, folk paces its pride. The bubbles will pop. The brilliance will flay. Incontrovertible erogeny is the molasses lavished upon exposure to extremity. Bearing polarizing erogenous consequence, folk are petrified; frozen in time. Powerful and powerless, again in confluence. Irony bestirring and hope-trending the folk-quarks.
This unsaid, inferred, folk allows fomenting the equanimity of future-kind. The Other Band on Earth supports this, unsaid and inferred. And with universal subconscientiousness discharges collectively relevant human kindness and matters of fact.