March 12, 2016

If like me you're going to be out late tonight and have to do things tomorrow, and your alarm clock isn't connected to the internet, then I have bad news: this is that awful night when we lose an hour of sleep. Remember to "spring ahead," or resign yourself to showing up late, whichever. Band names like these relieve the sting of this lame form of time travel:

Always Only Sometimes
An absolute with an immediate qualifier.

Last to See the Sun
I like how this could be a reference to end times, or to space travel, or to the last holdout when the sun sets on an early-season backyard barbecue.

Psyclon Nine
A real mindstorm! I have an abiding fondness for homophones that look nothing alike and evoke a poetic hybrid meaning.

The Forgotten 45s
Reminds me of a true story: I work upstairs from a non-profit preschool. Several years ago, a used record store donated a box of random 45s to be used as decorations for their fundraising auction, which had a '50s sock-hop theme that year. Late last year, the preschool director got tired of tripping over them in her office and asked if I wanted them. I took a chance and brought them home. They were dirty and scratched and we weren't sure they'd even play, but my spouse has been methodically cleaning them up and converting them to digital. So far, only one or two have completely failed. A few are nothing special, but many are lost treasures, forgotten no more. 

The Sweeplings 
I love saying this word, and how the addition of that L transforms debris in the a dustpan into adorable sentient beings.