Book us please!
More at wendyclarkmusic.com
Book us please!
More at wendyclarkmusic.com
I design promotional materials and write content, SEO and SMO stuff, and other PR and site management. It’s as living.
I also do local music PR and have been successful with many local artists – and am always trying new tricks of the trade to promote and use my band as a means to experiment with, and enjoy the graphics and image side plus the video promotional techniques.
But I am perplexed with my own graphic design work when self-promoting. Here is an example of one of the digital flyers for my band’s next show (tomorrow). I am a also a photographer (mentored and thrown into two jobs which I had to learn how to overcome the anxiety of doing *whatever
it takes to get the shot*) and thus use my own photos and a variety of programs depending on what device I have at the time and place that I create one. This was made in Photoshop which I have been using as much as possible to learn what I didn’t have access to in Photoshop Elements. I like to create posters. That’s why I started a band in the first place, right?
Of course not.
So after posting this green image of our show tomorrow (above), I thought that this is an aesthetically displeasing work — the rules were broken and it is a poor representation of a music event — in so many ways… and wonder why people are digging it.
If only content was as ambiguous. I made a poster for the next show that is one of my favorites of the 100s. It’s good. I received compliments which is the band flyer maker’s reason to live. Will anyone go to the show if they see it? Ask about tshirts? Why is the struggle to promote ourselves visually so cathartic for some of us in bands?
After all, I *know* when I write a song — it’s good or it isn’t going to exist. I don’t question myself. That is why I still get to play my own music — I don’t have the skills or the rock star goddess beauty (well, that’s arguable) and height and boobs. But I know better than to question my compositions and I won’t wonder if I am good at what I write – because I am. Who would play their songs if they didn’t think they were awesome?
So many rhetorical non-questions and ambiguity.
Tequila Mockingbird –  Luck and Trouble
Tequila Mockingbird are an alternative rock band from Denver. With their third album, they deliver a grooving example of a studio album with “live sound”, i.e. not sounding overproduced, but fun and natural.
The guitar sports juicy riffs, the singer has a strong voice and percussion is well levelled in. Read on for a short description for two of the nine tracks.
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Home is a light, up-tempo radio rock song with lovely acoustic guitar inlets and catchy melody line.
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Blue sounds like a straight-to-disc jam rock session. Laid-back riffs, slow but cool harmonies and rock-solid production value. Don’t miss the guitar and bass solos beginning at 2:00!
Play on ojdb
Posted on Wed, 8th August 2012
Tags CC-BY-SA, Pop Rock, Rock
One thought on “Tequila Mockingbird –  Luck and Trouble”
But I would like to begin again.
I wonder why I left work during the middle of lunch still.
When I realized he saw me beside the broken pieces of our clumpy jagged edges of the glass zebra, he may have been stung like a match head to the temple, that I was the one he saw there, realizing that the pieces of broken jagged clumpy were pieces of my irreparable goddamn heart.
“Shut the hell up,” Jemeriah reminded me. He wasn’t happy that my boyfriend wouldn’t drive to get my wisdom teeth out.
The dentist hadn’t taken into account that I was thin from my recent long bout with adult chicken pox, and the prescribed medication was unlike any other I had ever.
EVER. He wasn’t there when I got home nor were the pieces of the zebra.
So I nodded to acknowledge where I was now, and felt faint and slightly sick with no ease to my love, then made my way out the door. I shut the massiveleadish steele thing and tried to skip unsuccessfully down the stairway to the lot. I sitting there on the bus bench for three hours before I hailed a cab back home.
I remember the way he saw me, and I saw him suspended there in time and space and he still loved me. I drank him all the time he was around me, which was a lot, and I smelled and let him saturate my own suggestion of being near him – I enjoyed enjoying, being enjoyed, enjoying being enjoyed. he had my heart, he mythically stole it, like a slick Incubus, thief as he stole my love and man; I wonder why he didn’t skip class and just fuckin pick me up from serious wisdom tooth surgery.
Oh so earlier …. The dentist, meanwhile was apparently talking to my friends and I occasionally nodded and was probably really druggy, I told the staff I loved them and would see them soon. Then Jeremiah gave my keys to my freshly ex boyfriend and I dozed while he ordered me scripts at the store.
Chasing him down Tennessee in my old Camaro, crying “GODDDD-SSSPEEEEDDD!!!” to symbolize a moment of great length and filled with cheese, I sure as all hell was not getting the message.
I said yes to him that evening as twilight as his eyes were – I was in love, and hell, he knew it would work. He was so intelligent. I didn’t foresee his lack of thought for those years.
I saw him see me later, while I was fake knitting and fake chewing gum. he asked me which was more fun. I said it’s more fun seeing what makes you crack up more.
“What makes YOU crack up?”
“The fake gum because of the Fake TMJ?”
“Fake you!” We both laughed.
I melted. I felt cocky then said, “Fake knitting is stupid.”
“Stupid is faking- stupid faking fakers!”
I want to be more than what I faked and fucked with.
I am gonna take this opportunity to plead sanity and love for myself and psychological esteem and less panic and happiness and unconditional love and have more time to enjoy and learn from it, cheesy perhaps, believe me, I am not selling a story here.
I am just writing one for us.
Event Star Production PresentsSpecial Friday Night Showcase @ Cheers September 1st, 2017 7pm doors
Wendy Clark Band with Of David
Come discover a new band with your friends at a great live music venue!
21+ event with ID
$5 at the door
Address: 11964 Washington St, Northglenn, CO 80233
Phone: (303) 955-5660
Event sponsored by:
Dragons Eye Photography (Root of All)
Mile High Rock
Graphics by Victor
Blunt Force Stereo at BluntForceStereo.com
Consider the characteristics or conditions of all the substance in your intrinsic perception, such as the entities which one can identify as a solid state or a liquid state, (or even a gaseous state), and you believe you know by the very nature of the “subject,” to be just what it is, because that truth is fundamental. Now, suppose these primary dimensions of your reality are permuted, a metamorphosis which transforms every element, transcending everything so that it is the not only opposite of what it may have once been perceived as but the same in it’s lack of form and no law of the universe has any law or harmony, (the gaseous factors would really be astounding) and everything is nothing, and all that is or is not, is a contradiction of the same problem.
The concrete is now the abstract.
The trivium is equal to the empty paradox.
The continuum is now part of absolute zero.
The phone buzzed and I saw two new messages. One was a tangible items requiring some thought and input from certain people involved.
The second message was clearly meant to test me although a immediate result was void of reason and consequence and was disguised emptiness. Support of an broken statement that was neither subjective or objective.
Alright, you lost me – I am off the trail of interest; you may kindly fuck off. I can shake off the pixelated perception you painted me. A blank canvass of nothing.
This cognitive action led to my next transitory side-effect which was after quickly reviewing the causal theory of epiphenomenalism (physical events have mental effects, but mental events have no effects of any kind) how very useless it was to philosophize at this time, how tired my mind was, then snip-snapping right on back to my strenuously draining brooding of the undetermined unknown and how that unknown was always about to increase in conscious life.
There are the places at which you are not, or perhaps where you would rather be, not be, won’t be, the list within the list within the list is infinite, but my point is that the location of where you are (or where you ain’t) is probably the most important place you could ever be. Where you’re not is: any, some, or everywhere you could be, certainly, of course when you have but a critical amount of “time” remaining to reconsider every place where you ever were which led me to this last circumstance in which I was currently entangled, where I was not was anywhere but where I was, at a condition labeled as the end of one’s lifetime; this is the place where you last were, and your mind works itself backwards, instinctively and recklessly, and flashes these excruciating images, words, colors, lines and limits, gaps and speculation, theories, people, pets, regrets, media, motions, accidents, mistakes, recoveries, tastes, dreams, nightmares, mischief, games, fame, humiliation, embarrassment, acceptance, awards, rewards, faith, apathy, remorse, anxiety, true faith, true love, true sex, true blueness of the purest skies, waters, and eyes; good fortune, good graces, all those artistic creations….
The worst part was always there: The realization of having to contemplate how anything could be even worse than the worst realization you can contemplate. To me it was feeling that I was departing without saying goodbye; abruptly leaving the party early, sneaking out irresponsibly and silently, the one who didn’t even say, “later on,” and never came back.
During these mangled, mingled conjunctions of deliberation, I disappeared.