Colleen Kelly
 
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I should never skip another Sunday Sound post. Today's post is lacking something. I attribute this to my three weeks of absence. Since you last heard from me, I have not done anything creative outside of the work I get paid for, my spiritual responsibilities, and my relationship. While all are worthy ways to spend my time (and all creative work in their own right), the extended hiatus seems to make subsequent projects a bit weak. Lesson learned.

I have a complicated relationship with El Paso, my hometown. Does El Paso even count as my hometown? I lived there for ten of my twenty-seven years, so I'll say yes. At least for the purposes of this paragraph. The circumstances surrounding my move to El Paso were distressing, and my home upon arrival was less than ideal. After a few hard years, my mother made circumstances better and I started to flourish there. But there's a certain slowness to El Paso that never quite matched my natural metabolism. I describe El Paso like I describe my parents: I can talk trash all I want, but should anyone else talk trash... they're gonna get a beat-down. And thus the complication.

Today's Sunday Sound: some video of the mountains and light of El Paso, all captured from the backseat of my step-dad's Ford Focus. We were on our way to a casino in New Mexico, if that puts things in context for you. This mostly formulaic video is set to some sound doodling I did with Björk's Jóga, a song that has not left my brain since Friday.

THE SUNDAY SOUND: February 5, El Paso. Mountains. Light. Sound.
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B-Pop and I, on Open Mic night.
In addition to three pounds and extra dry skin, I also gained love while in El Paso. Score! (Definitely my favorite of the three.)

On the night after Christmas, we got hot chocolates and drove up to Scenic Drive, the mountain road that overlooks the sparkle of El Paso. I do this every time I'm home; it reminds me of the things I love about the place. I heard the faint whistle of wind through the mountains and the metallic clink of a flag pole. I started recording. My trusty iPhone couldn't quite capture the sound I wanted, but it DID capture B-Pop waxing poetic about the Law of Attraction. After a bit of persuasion, he acquiesced to me sharing sixty seconds of that conversation for today's Sunday Sound.

The bonus material is from a slam poetry open mic at The Percolator, a café / performance space in downtown El Paso. B-Pop's friend Jen (a ringleader of Free Holé Slam) was hosting the evening. This older gentleman (fifties or sixties, maybe?) moseys up to the stage. With a charming Texan accent, he begins by defining three words for us young people. We knew right away it was going to be good.

THE SUNDAY SOUND: January 8, Attraction and Poetry.
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Rock walls and Sonic drinks. Bless El Paso.
Christmas in El Paso, Texas has been sensational so far. Mom and Tom are a delight, the Christmas Eve Eve tradition with Jamie was a smashing success, I pulled an all-nighter with a charming individual, and I have eaten at least half my weight in treats that are usually prohibited.

My parents were part of today's Christmas program at church, and since they were up in the stands, I sat with my pal Hayley Smith (a Bostonian who shares my locational roots). Church was gorgeous and spiritual and Christmassy and full of family fun, but apparently we weren't moved quite enough because we immediately stole away for a Sunday drive. On our adventure, we found an open Sonic (at 10:30am! A Christmas miracle!) and got Cherry Vanilla Dr. Peppers. I know, I know. I shouldn't have done it, but come on! An open Sonic! On Christmas day!

Today's audio goodness: Car Talk with Hayley. We discuss El Paso's high-class rock walls and Drive-by Shooting!, the favorite game of my youth. And as a holiday bonus, you get one of the best Christmas moments ever captured on video. You're welcome.

Happy Christmas everyone.

THE SUNDAY SOUND: December 25, Christmas Car Talk.
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Isaac. New scriptures. "Choose the Right" tie.
What could possibly be better than a free nugget of sound? TWO free nuggets of sound! And today is your lucky day! Please try to contain your excitement.

No, really. Reel that in.

For any dedicated fans who have noticed my two Sunday hiatus, I can assure you it has been with good cause. And today's 2-for-1 special explains everything.

I was in Dallas the first weekend of December, attending the baptism of my rad nephew Isaac. He was baptized on Saturday, and the next day I went to church with this newly minted little dude and his family. It was Fast Sunday. That means we Mormon types go without meals for the day and give the money we would have spent on food to charity. Our meeting that day consists of the testimonies of whoever in the audience feels so compelled to go up to the podium and speak off the cuff. It is a good time.

Isaac had never done this before, and my brother and sister-in-law have never talked to him about it. A few people got up and after a bit of listening, Isaac leans over to my brother Derek and asks him if he can go up. Derek ekes out a hesitant "yes." Kelly realizes what is happening and gets a terrified look on her face as Isaac makes his move. And as any good aunt would, I press "RECORD."

My favorite part: after the last word you hear, he just shrugged his shoulders and sauntered off.

THE SUNDAY SOUND: December 18, Isaac's first testimony.
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Front row means you can't screw up.

The second weekend of December was filled with roughly twelve hours of singing. TWELVE. HOURS. OF. SINGING. I participated in the 11th annual Christmas concert put on by the women of my church. Freak. These girls don't mess around! There had been epic rehearsals for weeks.

I auditioned for a solo (please remind me of this if I try to do that again next year) and was assigned a soprano piece in a "negro spiritual".

It turns out I do not have the correct amount of soul required.

When it became disturbingly clear that I was simply NOT pulling it off, the director spent a good 45 minutes of one-on-one time with me. We tried and tried to get my voice to do things that it seemed bound and determined not to do. Here's sixty seconds of that experience. Apparently, I absolutely adore profanity when combined with singing the Lord's praises.

THE SUNDAY SOUND: December 18, Vocal performance and profanity.
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My divinely-appointed Harvard Square busker.
_busk·er noun \ˈbəs-kər\
chiefly British
: a person who entertains in a public place for donations

I can never pass a busking musician without stopping to listen, if only for a few measures or so. Something about the raw performance gets me.

I was wandering Harvard Square yesterday. Ever so faintly, I heard what sounded like Bob Dylan's Knockin' on Heaven's Door. I needed to grab the train, but I couldn't keep myself from stalking out the source. I immediately hit RECORD on my iPhone (yes, it is still an all-consuming love affair with that thing) and followed the sound. I happened upon this musician on Brattle Street and sat down to listen to the end of the Dylan cover. I sat there while he tuned his guitar; listened to the clamber of the weekend bus shuttle service behind me.

And just like that, like manna from heaven, my divinely-appointed busker began to sing Simon and Garfunkel's I am a Rock. I am wholly convinced that he sang it just for me. It was such a poignant, painful and perfectly-positioned moment in time.

I've built walls,
A fortress deep and mighty,
That none may penetrate.
I have no need of friendship; friendship causes pain.
It's laughter and it's loving I disdain.
I am a rock. I am an island.
(Lyrics)

THE SUNDAY SOUND: November 27, I am a rock. I am an island.
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My life has changed. I got an iPhone 4S. OHMYGOSHMYQUALITYOFLIFEHASIMPROVEDATLEASTTENFOLD. My iPod, my cell phone, my planner, and a decent field recorder all merge in one device. ONE DEVICE THAT CAN DO EVERYTHING. I will never be the same. Once you go 32GB Black, you never go back.

I updated my Facebook status to commemorate our union (screenshot above). My dear friend Mary Webster was the first to comment, so this week's Sunday Sound is dedicated to her. I had my ICANDOEVERYTHING device with me at rehearsal for a Christmas concert (come!) and our mutual pal Carri Hulet sauntered by. I shoved my iPhone in her face and told her to say something to our dearest Mary. The amazing result proves three things: 1) Happy accidents are infinitely better than planned recordings, 2) Carri Hulet is a genius, and 3) Lots of people love and miss Mary.

THE SUNDAY SOUND: November 20, Have a Mary Christmas.
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Al, an enthusiastic mustachioed craftsman.
Are you an audiophile looking to get revved up on a Sunday night?

My gift to you: seductive passages on the particulars of infinite speaker baffles. Expertly translated by Jordan Petersen from the original text.

Should this soothing rendition inspire you to design your own infinite baffle (IB) sub-woofer, I have excellent news. The world wide web is teeming with how-to's and FAQ's, most of which feature stellar photography (which I have on good authority is worthy of a look). Observe Al in the midst of IB construction, shared here for your convenience.

Unfortunately, the product of our inspired recording session amounted to less than the typical 60 seconds of sound I share each Sunday. To account for this unacceptable deficit, I have included a bonus piece which explores the woes of dissatisfaction.

THE SUNDAY SOUND: November 13, Infinite baffles and dissatisfaction.
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Juan and I at Lolita Bar in NYC for his birthday.
I met Juan in 2002 on Makeoutclub (my first online profile, a community for "indie rockers"). I was barely 18. Juan and I have since tried to come up with better stories for our initial meeting, but the truth of it: we met online, emailed for a bit, decided to meet up at the bookstore on the University of Texas campus, and went to P.F. Chang's (I brought a fellow dorm dweller because I was scared to meet up with a stranger).

We've been the best of friends ever since (except for a short blip when I was being weird). Juan would make me the greatest mixed CD's. I still have the first one he made for me back in September of 2002.

When I moved to Boston in 2006, we stayed close. I saw him at least 2-3 times a year. And now that I've been in Boston for over five years, well... it has been a while. Juan has always loved Eisley and I have always loved Juan, so for today's sixty seconds of sound: a minute-long bare bones cover of Eisley's I Wasn't Prepared.

THE SUNDAY SOUND: October 30, Eisley for Juan. In 60 seconds.
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Kids! I was rejected last week!

Let us observe a moment of silence...

...

Okay! On to business. Can we talk about the Rejection Hotline? For those of you who can't bring yourselves to JUST SAY NO, this service will allow you to remain passive-aggressive! When your pursuer begs for your number, you deliver these digits. When he/she attempts a booty call at 2AM (can you tell I have experience with this?), a speaking-way-too-fast man will say the words you couldn't bring yourself to say. He will also offer them a chance to win some serious cash money.

THE SUNDAY SOUND: October 23, The Rejection Hotline.
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Two weeks have gone by without a post from me. I have been entirely immersed in all sorts of (welcomed) responsibilities that are attached to my membership in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. The first weekend of October was General Conference (read more on that via the LDS Newsroom). The second weekend of October, some members of my family were in town to accompany me as I received my endowment in the Boston, Massachusetts temple. For those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about, read this: Mormon Temple Endowment. It changed my life.

Today's post is brought to you by the intersection of my life as a Mormon and my life as a sound artist / producer / music aficionado. For most musicians (well, for most anyone in the media industry), being a Mormon appears wholly impossible. Of the power trio that is sex, drugs, and rock n' roll, I can only really indulge in one (until I get married, and then I get to indulge in TWO! Yes!). My super-clean lifestyle might seem incompatible with the industry I've chosen, but there are plenty of creatives like myself who make it work. And I am part of a group that is humbly attempting to illustrate that possibility.

Linescratchers is an online magazine that promotes LDS musicians who don't write LDS music (i.e. musicians in the secular world!). I became an editor for Linescratchers because I believe that no one should feel torn between their creative world and their world of faith. It is not easy to be successful in the media industry and maintain LDS standards, and Linescratchers promotes folks that are successfully walking (scratching!) this line.

We are in the midst of a month-long pledge drive. Our website is full of excellent content, but we haven't had the resources necessary to beautify it. We are hoping to raise $1,080 to support our growth, specifically covering a professional website redesign. (Bonus: if you donate $20 or more, you get a compilation album featuring work from 12 LDS musicians.) If you can afford it, please, please, please donate through our RocketHub site.

In honor of our pledge drive, today's Sunday Sound is from Brandon Flowers, the lead singer of The Killers and a fellow Linescratcher. Take it away, Brandon.
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