Friday, August 10, 2012

A Message of Truth for All Ages


Hardly strangers to the punk rock scene, All Ages, a San Francisco-based trio and a major player with Indie label Shameless Self Productions, has dedicated the past several years to writing and recording their highly anticipated debut album, A New Kind of Citizen. Formed in 2005, All Ages quickly became a household name in the San Francisco Bay area following the release of their first EP, What Do You Believe?, eventually capturing the attention of Japan’s top acts such as The Pillows, Noodles, and Saboten while on a six month tour of the United States and Japan.  
Since the days of What Do You Believe?, front man Derrik Soares and bassist Tom Yamashita have set aside adolescent nostalgia and lean riffs, cultivating a sound that promises to garner followers young and old through the universal wisdom of their lyrics and the symphonic profundity of their instrumentals. Strap on your retro headphones and crank the volume for the title track, a bass driven “message of truth” featuring dueling guitars and soaring vocals reminiscent of “The Kids Aren’t Alright.” With a perfect blend of crisp arpeggio interludes and grinding verses, “Cause Baby” is also sure to become an instant classic.  
In the tradition of modern minstrels such as Pink Floyd, Green Day, and Muse, All Ages weaves an anthemic amalgamation of love gone sour and witty rebellion, delivering a bittersweet “letter to the president’s men” that not every mind of this generation is transfixed upon “what we see on MTV.” However, this is no misguided attack against the oppression of a perceived oligarchy but rather a clarion call to the human collective to combat the “blinding of American minds” with love and friendship.
But amidst all the monastic wisdom, tracks such as “Not Just Some Kids” and “Some People Die Valentine” offer the listener endearing glimpses into the heart of a man who begs to be saved from himself and who struggles to “realize there’s hope to find something better.” It is a voice of humility and honesty one can empathize with and trust. It is the voice of an everyman. Years from now when humanity looks back in history we’ll say “The Wall, American Idiot, The Resistance, A New Kind of Citizen.”

Monday, November 1, 2010

Ashes in my Coffee

You're the ashes in my bitter coffee
I drink you in and pretend you still warm me
Let me in on your secret of letting go
I will bury all the love I used to know
You're the rainfall on an Autumn morning
Chills my soul until tears are forming
It could never be the same again
But call me darling if you ever need a friend
You're the ashes in my bitter coffee
I drink you in and pretend you still warm me


Creative Commons License
Ashes in my Coffee by Joshua Alan Blodgett is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 United States License.
Based on a work at verboseprose86.blogspot.com.

Sunday, June 13, 2010

Et Tu Brute?

Call me your best friend
'til another comes along
Someone closer to perfection,
one who sings a sweeter song

Say you'll walk the distance
'til the road seems way too far
Take the path of least resistance
and burn the mark
of a fairweather lover on my heart

There is no other word
Reserved for this crime
You turned and walked away
When all I needed was time

Perhaps you've forgotten
All those nights you'd bear your soul
I'll take your secrets to the coffin
Your wayward heart will shine like gold

I'll become a faded footnote
A relic from your sordid past
If serpent whispers were our downfall
We were never meant to last

There is no other word
Reserved for this crime
You severed ties unscathed
When all I needed was time

There is no other word
Reserved for this crime
You turned and walked away
When all I needed was time


Creative Commons License
Es tu Brute? by Joshua Alan Blodgett is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 United States License.
Based on a work at verboseprose86.blogspot.com.

Monday, May 10, 2010

Indulgence

Commit a crime but speak a line
To save your soul for all of time
Dissent from bigoted beliefs
And stones will cleanse your heresy

A life will pass in a moment's time
While the faithful blind scan the skies
Searching for purpose and asking why
When what we search for lies inside

Commit a crime and pay a fine
The wicked rich will serve no time
Banking dreams of Ponzi schemes
Derivatives of timeless greed

Lives are bought with nickels and dimes
Automata on factory lines
Mother Earth or bottom line?
Rape the forests one more time

Conscript the poor to fight your wars
Disposable pawns nothing more
Daughters, sons in body bags
Disciples to a burning flag


Creative Commons License
Indulgence by Joshua Alan Blodgett is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 United States License.
Based on a work at verboseprose86.blogspot.com.

Friday, May 7, 2010

Ode to a Fallen Friend

I will always remember that autumn afternoon
When our lives became inextricably intertwined
Such a precious gift of life and pure love had been bestowed unto me
I knew I would never return to the person I once was
I will always remember our long walks through forests of evergreen and oak
Where you would explore to your eager heart's content
Many a time I would fear for your safety
Calling out your name in anger
I am sorry for that
I will always remember those cold winter nights
When you would curl up beside me beneath the covers
your body keeping me warm, your presence assuring security
I will always remember returning home
knowing you would be at the front door
posied and ready to greet me
so happy it seemed you were smiling
I will always remember our car rides through town,
your head hanging out the passenger side window, the wind caressing your face
I will always remember that no matter how much trouble you caused
I could never stay mad at you
I will always remember the little things
like the corn chip smell of your feet
I will always remember your loyalty
I will always remember your strength and will to carry on
And I will never forget our final moments, our final car ride
But I was not at the wheel and the wind no longer caressed your face
Holding you in my arms through struggled breaths, a stoic warrior until death
You should not have left that way
You deserved much better
And people will mock and scorn my tears
They will laugh inside because you were not like them and I
No, my gentle friend, you are a far kinder soul than we shall ever be

Creative Commons License
Ode to a Fallen Friend by Joshua Alan Blodgett is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 United States License.
Based on a work at verboseprose86.blogspot.com.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Cup of Make Believe

I have squandered youth
In vain pursuits

In buying lies
And selling truth

I have poisoned love
With one drop too much

But one thousand more
Is not near enough

Filled my cup with make believe
I sipped sweet lies to the lees

I abandoned life
To crawl towards death

My heart still beats
With nothing left

Baby live your dreams
You're still my queen

The judge's hammer
Will fall on me

I've been holding onto memories
You're song still plays inside of me

Empty cup of make believe
Precious years you've stolen from me


Creative Commons License
Cup of Make Believe by Joshua Alan Blodgett is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 United States License.
Based on a work at verboseprose86.blogspot.com.

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Serrated Savior

Knowledge is suffering
Ignorance is bliss
But those who suffer
Are those who live

Because to live is not so sweet
It is to pass down empty streets
And you run, run, run
With rabid dogs at your feet

There is no water
No bread of life
No milk of human kindness
Just a saving knife

Serrated savior
Lay rest to this labor
Mingle with red rivers
Beneath the flesh
This blackened heart
Lives to disort


Creative Commons License
Serrated Savior by Joshua Alan Blodgett is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 United States License.
Based on a work at verboseprose86.blogspot.com.