Paradise Found

Everybody has a certain sense of paradise: Gold sand, blue water and the setting sun. For Micah Wolf, paradise is as far as the front door. He’s fortunate enough to call Hawaii home. But for the rest of us less fortunate souls, Micah has been kind enough to recreate the melodic sounds of paradise on his debut album, the self-titled Micah Wolf.

As an independent musician, Micah built the album from the ground up – literally. He and long-time friend as well as band mate, Eric DeVine, constructed a studio to record and produce the music. Then Eric handcrafted the guitars, ukuleles and stand-up bass that feature on the album. As if that wasn’t enough, the two then started their own record label, Blockplane Records, to distribute the CD.

In the end, Micah Wolf’s slice of paradise wasn’t so much found as forged. With dedication, passion and the help of his friends, Micah has crafted an excellent album that is filled with the everyday beauty of life.

So if you find yourself landlocked or lonely, not to worry - paradise is as close as your stereo.

Half-Baked Half-Pipe

Two steps back, one step forward seems to be the motto of the day. What started as an honest attempt to get into a new sport – surfing – has turned into a full-blown regression to adolescences.

The half-baked idea was to build a half-pipe. The theory being that the four-foot plywood transitions would simulate the green wall of a peeling wave. What my chums and I have conveniently ignored is the difference between falling from four feet and landing on water versus wood.

It’s been ten full years since I skated a half-pipe, but I can still remember taking some headlong pile-drives that would of made Jimmy Superfly Snuka proud. Back then I’d brush myself off, climb back up and do it again. If that happened now I have a sneaking suspicion I’d squeal like a stuck pig and spend the rest of the day in traction with an ibuprofen drip.

Some might call it arrested development, but the dream is nearing fulfillment. My brother, OS, recently purchased an 8’ x 4’ x 22’ half-pipe off Craig’s List. As soon as we can haul it to his house, we’ll be hauling ass, which will be followed shortly by hauling ourselves to the hospital I’m sure.

Who’s dropping-in first?

Migration. Hibernation. Liberation.

Something about the rain. It seems as the sky gets darker and the ground danker, bands begin migrating to Portland. Along with the turning leaves and southbound birds, fall inevitably brings some of the best shows to the city of roses.

Maybe it’s just a swift stopover between Seattle and San Francisco, but this week alone TV On The Radio, Art Brut, Cold War Kids, Clap Your Hands And Say Yeah and the Scissor Sisters are gracing our stages.

That’s not to mention the horde of bands that don ponchos and galoshes everyday as Portland locals, such as M. Ward, Antlerand and Agalloch. These are just a smattering of the musicians around, but they cut a wide swath across the musical landscape. And thanks to them hibernating can be as liberating as migrating.

To keep the surf theme alive and kicking, listen to a tune from Christopher Willits' Surf Boundaries.