Fourth of July holidays are usually shit for me. I don’t care about fireworks. I kind of like being patriotic sometimes but it also conflicts with my feelings regarding nationalism. This year was different. I had fireworks going off inside of my head. Cherry Glazerr had me ignited.
They were playing at the Hive and I had no expectations. What began as an infatuation quickly transformed into a reason to get out of Portland for a day. I blasted Haxel Princess through US 101, soaking teenage angst into everything I passed. It’s been a while since I’ve taken my time with an album from start to finish. The opening song, “White’s Not My Color This Evening” impressed me with the title alone. Their lyrics are silly enough to make you laugh out loud, RE: “Grilled Cheese”. It’s obvious the members don’t take themselves too seriously and that was the most refreshing aspect.
I didn’t really have a destination, so I found myself driving until I reached Port Angeles. I only really stopped there because the last ferry had left before I could escape to Canada. I wandered around the quiet town and it stayed quiet until I walked into a meth-induced argument. The only getaway was a yuppie brewpub. There were gentle-looking faces waiting in the entryway and it seemed like a haven in an unknown setting. By this older, artsy couple, I was coerced into going into another venue, Studio Bobs. They recommended I check out this band called Soul Duo. I noticed more and more the accusing expressions from everyone around me, so I ended that brewpub encounter and moved onto what seemed to be my only choice for the rest of the evening.
Studio Bob’s was an open space that looked like prom for senior citizens. Soul Duo, the trio of musicians performed covers of top 40. I’m still confused by the name but I let some things go. Everyone around me didn’t seem to care about anything other than dancing and it was nice to sit back and watch. I kept thinking “I should drink more beer. I should drink more beer.” I did and found myself blasting Cherry Glazerr at top notch volume and aggressively shaking my limbs in my parked vehicle. At the time, “Sweaty Faces” and “Teenage Girl” were my fast-paced escape.
The one goal I set for myself was to catch the sunrise. I slept through it, though my subconscious goal was met. I found my summer jam. It’s hard to explain why you repeat an album over and over again. It’s hard to explain a craving for a sound, but my craving for Cherry Glazerr is obnoxious and I don’t feel bad at all.
View more photos from the lonesome trip, Instagram.