One shot of women, one shot of work. One shot's sweeter but they both can hurt.

I am anything but a music snob.  I'm not saying that I like or even enjoy all types of music but 6 years of working in college radio, most of it spent reviewing albums for every genre imaginable, has made me very open minded when it comes to music.  Just because something doesn't necessarily appeal to my taste doesn't automatically make it "bad."  It can be well executed technically which, by default,  makes it "good;" whether I like it or can't stand it doesn't change that fact.  Preference, when it comes to music, is something that's very arbitrary and personal and, for that reason, I've never really understood people's need to judge others based on it.

With all the albums I've listened to and reviewed over the years, however, it takes something really special to get me excited.  It might be a band I've never heard before -- in recent years, for me, that's been The Gaslight Anthem and Fences -- or just a new release from an old favorite.  Currently, it's the new Lucero album Women & Work.  I am downright obsessed.

When Women & Work was first released, I streamed it repeatedly on Rdio.com; it was on a loop at my desk while I was in the office and streaming from my TV and computer at home while I was cleaning, cooking, or doing other assorted chores.  It made my $4.99/month subscription seem like a steal.  Since I knew I'd be seeing them perform in Rhode Island this month, I decided to hold out to buy a physical copy as I'd rather purchase it directly from the band than from some conglomerate.  The date of the RI show happened to coincide with Record Store Day and, as part of the celebration, Ben and Rick did an in-store performance at Newbury Comics in Warwick, RI.  If I wasn't in love with Lucero and the new album before, that intimate set was enough to seal the deal.  Ben, with his white v-neck and tattoos, and his guitar in hand, sang in his signature gravelly voice.  Rick, who reminds me of a lovable tattoo artist I know from the Midwest, was there with the most amazing accordion I've ever seen.  Together, these two gentlemen knocked out some new songs, some old favorites, and a few requests.  It was enough to send any fan (regardless of gender) reeling.  Having only heard a handful of songs, with nowhere near a full band, my friends and I left elated and in eager anticipation of the performance that lay ahead that evening.

Forgive the poor quality, my cell phone camera & shaky hands don't mix well.

I was in no way, shape, or form disappointed that night.  We arrived at the Met a bit late, having missed the opening act, but were right on time for a drink and Lucero's set.  The crowd, most having had their fill of whiskey and beer, were in high spirits as Lucero took the stage.  Again, they played an assortment of selections, both new and old, a much beloved cover of Jawbreaker's "Kiss The Bottle" and, again, took audience requests.  While they did mix things up, there was an emphasis on the new record, with at least 5 of its 11 tracks being played.  I've spent a lot of time in RI in the course of the last year and it seems, at least from an outsider's perspective, that it's a pretty tight-knit scene.  Still, to me, it was astonishing to see an entire crowd of people singing and dancing together like old friends; it's a far cry from larger New Haven shows.  At the end of the set, you could hear chatter throughout the room; some praise, some complaints.  A handful of fans were not thrilled with the amount of new songs played.  Those same fans, most likely, that aren't that thrilled with the new album as a whole.

Musically, Lucero is a blend of everything great.  Drawing on indie rock roots, punk influences, and a country/folk twang that can surely be attributed to their hometown of Memphis, Tennessee, the band is hard to define.  The best I can say is that it's southern rock done 100% right.  The band, in its various incarnations, has been putting out music for the last 14 years and it doesn't appear it will be stopping any time soon.  A decade-plus can often result in a stale sound but Lucero hasn't let that happen.  With each release their sound has grown and evolved and the result is nothing short of phenomenal.  Over time, the band has grown in size to 8 members, allowing for the addition of keys, an accordion, and a small horn section (sax & trumpet).  Those recent additions are a main focal point on the new album.

Some devout Lucero fans aren't fond of the new album but, perhaps, they're just not fond of change.  I, personally, love the new spin they've put on their sound.  A vinyl junkie, I purchased the LP (which came with a CD to boot!) after the show.  As soon as I got home from RI the next day, I popped the record on my trusty Crosley and the one-woman singalong/dance party began.  And it lasted for hours.

The band's frontman Ben Nichols, equates Women & Work to a typical weekend.

“You work all week, thinking about women and the weekend,” says Nichols. “’Downtown’ is Friday night, ‘Go Easy’ is Sunday morning. The rest of the record is the party in between.”

And it is a party, indeed.  Owning the album on vinyl, however, has given me a new perspective on it. After listening to it in its entirety a few times, I found myself returning the needle to the start of side A, playing it over and over again, neglecting side B.  There's something in those first 6 tracks that just pulls me in.  The melodies are catchy and give my feet an involuntary urge to move.  The lyrics are memorable and are the ones I find myself singing throughout the course of the day.  That's not to say the latter half is a disappointment; that is not the case at all.  It doesn't share the same dance-able gusto as the beginning of the record but the lyrics are still heartfelt and the music is still top-notch...and the addition of a gospel choir surely doesn't hurt.

Most Likely To Succeed

My senior year of high school I was voted "Most Likely to Succeed."  To me, it was the crowning achievement of years of hard work and dedication.  I was flattered beyond words and it's a title I've spent years hoping to live up to.  With my 10-year reunion rapidly approaching (this June!), I've been devoting a lot of time recently to defining success as it applies to me.

Success is defined by dictionary.com as

1. the favorable or prosperous termination of attempts or endeavors.

2. the attainment of wealth, position, honors, or the like.

It's probably safe to assume, however, that most people have their own personal definition of success, one that more succinctly defines the "wealth, position, honors" and "favorable or prosperous termination of attempts or endeavors" mentioned above.  Those terms are vague and leave much room for interpretation.

Leading up to my high school graduation, I had it all together.  I wasn't the most popular or "cool" by any means but I had my priorities in order.  I focused on, and excelled in, my academic pursuits.  I was involved in a myriad of after-school activities.  I was a well rounded, well behaved person.  I was devoted to my family.  Parties, boyfriends, debauchery...none of it appealed to me.  And that hard work and focus on what I considered to be important paid off.  I was awarded numerous scholarships, both unsolicited and from all three universities to which I applied and was accepted to.

I had spent a good portion of my high school career mulling over what I wanted to do with my future.  I was nerdy, no doubt about it, and that love for learning and my multi-faceted interests left me with several career prospects I wanted to pursue.  I had written for fun, was never happy with less than an A on a paper, and was a staff writer for the student newspaper (an activity I continued in college as well).  Did I want to become a journalist?  I had always done well in Spanish (aced the NYS Regents exam, in fact), loved the language and thoroughly enjoyed both hosting a Costa Rican exchange student and traveling to CR as one myself.  Did I want to become an interpreter?  I had been learning ASL in my free time since middle school and contemplated furthering that education and becoming an interpreter for the deaf.  My family and I constantly watched shows on forensic science on the Discovery Channel and The Learning Channel and it seemed like something that would present me with new and exciting tasks on a daily basis.  After much hemming and hawing, I decided to focus my formal education on forensic science.

I decided to attend the University of New Haven, who had an established and reputable program (not to mention a relationship with Dr. Henry C. Lee!).  I plugged away through the first year and a half of the undergrad program, attending classes in pretty much every science you can name, as well as Calculus I & II, and other assorted classes.  I found myself, at that point, both incredibly stressed and unhappy.  Forensic science, as I had always seen it, had two focuses: laboratory and field work.  The latter was what interested me.  Developing and collecting fingerprints, searching for and collecting evidence, preserving the integrity of the crime scene and documenting it in every way imaginable.  Sadly, the program at UNH focused on the laboratory aspect and heavily.  After flourishing in my chemistry labs and floundering in the actual class, I decided it was not the right track for me.  The Criminal Justice major, with a concentration in Investigative Services, was exactly what I was looking for.  After several discussions with my adviser, I reached the end of my rope.  She kept trying to convince me to stay in the program even though it wasn't suited for me.  Why?  Well, as she finally told me, she didn't want the program to lose someone with my G.P.A.  That statement pushed me over the edge; I immediately signed the necessary paperwork and formally switched majors.  It ended up being the best decision I could have made.

I excelled in my coursework and graduated on time and with top honors, all the while being involved with several organizations on campus.  I decided to further my education at UNH and get my Master's in Forensic Science.  The university offered two different tracks in the graduate program, one which focused on criminalistics (lab) or advanced investigation (crime scene).  The decision was clear.  I, once again, was on a roll academically.  The decision to go after that degree also afforded me with one of the best opportunities I've ever had, an internship with the New Haven Police Department's Bureau of Identification.  I got to go to crime scenes on an almost daily basis, help search for and document evidence, help new detectives learn how to dust for fingerprints, learn how to use a 35-mm camera with manual settings, examine evidence in the lab, attend autopsies and tour the state crime lab.  It was one of the most beneficial and rewarding experiences of my entire academic career.  I was able to apply everything I had learned in my classes.

During grad school, I was also working part time at Toad's Place, a local, but legendary, venue.  Everyone from the Rolling Stones to Bob Dylan to U2 (before they made it big) had played there and the list of names (both big and up-and-coming) continued to grow.  I had started off in coat check, made my way to selling merch, working the juice bar and the front door.  A mere six months later, right around the time I was finishing grad school, I was offered a full time position in the box office.  I had always loved music (I had worked at a small club my freshman year of college and had been actively involved with my college radio station for over 5 years at that point) and loved the New Haven area so I accepted.  It was a far cry from my educational background but it seemed like it would be a great transition to the "real world."  It would allow me to stay in the area, would be enough to pay my bills, and had perks like getting to see some of my favorite bands for free.  For a while, that job and that life was exactly what I needed.

Now, as I'm 28 years old and nearing my reunion, all sorts of things have me second guessing my "success."  My current roommate is moving out when our lease is up and, thanks to student loan payments, I can't afford to live on my own.  I don't have any (reliable) potential roommates to help pick up the lease and the thought of having to take a loan from my parents to pay my rent makes me feel like much more of a failure than a success.  It doesn't help that a bunch of my friends (some my age, some younger) are at a point in their lives, and in their careers, where they're buying their own homes. 

The Internet is the worst reminder of how unsuccessful I feel.  I'm constantly seeing things that remind me that my former classmates are buying real estate, getting married, having children, and/or excelling in their chosen field.  I can't afford to rent on my own, haven't managed to hold onto a relationship for any significant amount of time (and since my last one ended my head has been a total mess), and am working (sometimes very unhappily) in a field that has nothing to do with the 6-year, expensive, education I received and am paying so dearly for each month.

I know I'm not a failure.  I have a job.  I'm not homeless.  I pay my bills on time.  I'm independent.  But with the current worries about my living situation and all the second guessing I'm doing of my career and relationships, I can't help but feel like I'm not a "success" either.  I want more than what I have now.  I want to be more financially independent.  I want to pay a mortgage as opposed to paying a landlord.  I don't want to not be able to buy something I want every now and again because it means I might not be able to buy something I need.  I want to be applying the education that I know for a fact I am capable of using, as my internship so clearly demonstrated to me.  I want a job where I feel like I'm respected at least 99% of the time and where there is room for advancement, or at least a paid sick day or two.  I want to find something that makes me happy and feel like I am flourishing at it, not just going through the motions and checking daily tasks off my list.  And I know the only way to make those things happen is to make them happen myself.  I can't just sit around waiting for good things to come to me but I'll be the first to admit I'm scared of change and even more frightened to be the one that has to initiate it.

In the meantime, instead of stressing out over what's going to possibly happen in the next few months, I'm going to try to focus on the here and now.  Taking what I have, trying to improve it and, if I can't, learning to appreciate what I've got.  After all, it's possible that the standard of "success" I've set for myself is much higher than what any of my peers had in mind back at good ol' Windsor High School.