the things you do for your freinds. my god....
Ten minutes after "Real Life Fairy Tale" rocked the crowd into a frenzy of astonished pride, the members of Daydream of a Boy have scattered to various locales. AMong the audience a few prominent faces protrude in the jumble of waving hands. Like a support group, members of other Chicago rockers have joined in the celebration of Ddoab's latest show at MoJoe's coffee house in Orland Park-thirty minutes south of the city's blinding skyline.
"We wanted to play a smaller more intimate show for our fans. They have been very good to us." says vocalist Jameson King a he lights up a clover cigarette.
He measures his words slowly, the cigarette rolling between him slim delicate fingers before speaking again. The swirl of smoke flutters to the overhead lights casting a shadow over the table and the swarms of fans behind him. Absently he bats a stray lock of his dark tresses from his dark eyes.
"It's really about the fans," he continues beeming. "We really owe them for all of our sucess."
And lady luck has been smiling on the band in their recent months, even before their debut album has dropped in stores. The loyal fans and works with Chicago's A list has contributed to Ddoab's rise to power.
Many have remembered King from Garden of Dreams and Plastic Princess, but he realized that all has been a hazing in his training for the ultimate end goal. This had been his calling, to make his own music that not only expressed his inner soul and grandeur visions swimming inside, but to bring back the long lost intergrity music has been lacking in the last few years.
"Too many bands have been doing the same thing. It has become and indusrty based on popularity and selling out venues rather than self expression." He states.
Nothing could be more true. Chicago radio is heavily dominated by the same old thing. Poppy croonings of scantily clad wanna-be-Britney's bearing their middrift to sell records, the annoying poundings of every band that wants to be Korn, the isolated despairation of Coldplay clones. It was time for something else. Ddoab was that something.
The band is a musical vacum sucking in elements of all that is Chicago, encorporating the best in a city that is a gamble many have lost to.
On each conveyer belt suctioned into the dark vortex of the radio machine, aspiring rock bands enter. Very few emerge. I have many freinds still trapped inside the machine's mechanical guts, cogs pounded over and over and shaped into diffrent projects as the arm decends. Ddoab was one of the lucky ones. There is an old joke in the windy one's music elite that fresh faced musicans arrive by the truckloads with their heads filled with sugar plum dreams of sucess and fame. But as the true to life joke goes, most end up working in bars, dancing in strip clubs, and addicted to their flavor of the month lifestyles if they are lucky. So far, Daydream of a Boy has emerged unscathed.
Their music is self described by King as a mixture of Cure-like new wave romanticism bred with the showmanship of the Smashing Pumpkins' phantoms that haunt dark city venues and impregnated by the devilsh sparks of a Motley Crue.
They have definatley done their homework enough to earn the hearts of the city.
Swarms of gorgeous glamish girls encircle the table as I take a seat before King. Fighting through the mess as well is Tragic Vitality's Jen Jilldbert, the sweet etheral voice that flavors several tracks on the Ddoab album. The pairing of the amazing lyrics, the sultry sexkitten purr of King and the distinquished and destinctive siren-like wail that brings one back to memories of Jack Off Jill and Souxie and The Banshees. The twosome couldn't be more promising.
Balancing a busy show schedule and the completion of the album has been enough to keep Daydream of a Boy more than busy. This evenings show has been a more relaxed setting from what we are used to seeing for the band.
The band and many of its fans and rockstar clientel are sitting around sipping strange concoctions or whipped coffee drinks. Jameson, being difficult is sipping a coke to be the odd ball of the group. I'm about to get a refill of my screaming white orgasm drink as I watch him entertain the fans. I haven't seen him set down the pen he's been giving autographs with yet despite begging the fans to come join the table and just hang out.
"So whats next for you?" I ask stirring my orgasm in a glass with my fingers.
"Well," he says taking a sip of his drink before absently staring into the aquarium behind us populated with the largest fish I have ever seen in my life. "Our management team has been trying to set up some big shows in late September. Until then, just keep writing. Get the record finished."
"Where do you want to be a year from now?" I ask.
"Not sure," he says with a coy smile. "As long as I am happy with what I'm doing."
Ten minutes after "Real Life Fairy Tale" rocked the crowd into a frenzy of astonished pride, the members of Daydream of a Boy have scattered to various locales. AMong the audience a few prominent faces protrude in the jumble of waving hands. Like a support group, members of other Chicago rockers have joined in the celebration of Ddoab's latest show at MoJoe's coffee house in Orland Park-thirty minutes south of the city's blinding skyline.
"We wanted to play a smaller more intimate show for our fans. They have been very good to us." says vocalist Jameson King a he lights up a clover cigarette.
He measures his words slowly, the cigarette rolling between him slim delicate fingers before speaking again. The swirl of smoke flutters to the overhead lights casting a shadow over the table and the swarms of fans behind him. Absently he bats a stray lock of his dark tresses from his dark eyes.
"It's really about the fans," he continues beeming. "We really owe them for all of our sucess."
And lady luck has been smiling on the band in their recent months, even before their debut album has dropped in stores. The loyal fans and works with Chicago's A list has contributed to Ddoab's rise to power.
Many have remembered King from Garden of Dreams and Plastic Princess, but he realized that all has been a hazing in his training for the ultimate end goal. This had been his calling, to make his own music that not only expressed his inner soul and grandeur visions swimming inside, but to bring back the long lost intergrity music has been lacking in the last few years.
"Too many bands have been doing the same thing. It has become and indusrty based on popularity and selling out venues rather than self expression." He states.
Nothing could be more true. Chicago radio is heavily dominated by the same old thing. Poppy croonings of scantily clad wanna-be-Britney's bearing their middrift to sell records, the annoying poundings of every band that wants to be Korn, the isolated despairation of Coldplay clones. It was time for something else. Ddoab was that something.
The band is a musical vacum sucking in elements of all that is Chicago, encorporating the best in a city that is a gamble many have lost to.
On each conveyer belt suctioned into the dark vortex of the radio machine, aspiring rock bands enter. Very few emerge. I have many freinds still trapped inside the machine's mechanical guts, cogs pounded over and over and shaped into diffrent projects as the arm decends. Ddoab was one of the lucky ones. There is an old joke in the windy one's music elite that fresh faced musicans arrive by the truckloads with their heads filled with sugar plum dreams of sucess and fame. But as the true to life joke goes, most end up working in bars, dancing in strip clubs, and addicted to their flavor of the month lifestyles if they are lucky. So far, Daydream of a Boy has emerged unscathed.
Their music is self described by King as a mixture of Cure-like new wave romanticism bred with the showmanship of the Smashing Pumpkins' phantoms that haunt dark city venues and impregnated by the devilsh sparks of a Motley Crue.
They have definatley done their homework enough to earn the hearts of the city.
Swarms of gorgeous glamish girls encircle the table as I take a seat before King. Fighting through the mess as well is Tragic Vitality's Jen Jilldbert, the sweet etheral voice that flavors several tracks on the Ddoab album. The pairing of the amazing lyrics, the sultry sexkitten purr of King and the distinquished and destinctive siren-like wail that brings one back to memories of Jack Off Jill and Souxie and The Banshees. The twosome couldn't be more promising.
Balancing a busy show schedule and the completion of the album has been enough to keep Daydream of a Boy more than busy. This evenings show has been a more relaxed setting from what we are used to seeing for the band.
The band and many of its fans and rockstar clientel are sitting around sipping strange concoctions or whipped coffee drinks. Jameson, being difficult is sipping a coke to be the odd ball of the group. I'm about to get a refill of my screaming white orgasm drink as I watch him entertain the fans. I haven't seen him set down the pen he's been giving autographs with yet despite begging the fans to come join the table and just hang out.
"So whats next for you?" I ask stirring my orgasm in a glass with my fingers.
"Well," he says taking a sip of his drink before absently staring into the aquarium behind us populated with the largest fish I have ever seen in my life. "Our management team has been trying to set up some big shows in late September. Until then, just keep writing. Get the record finished."
"Where do you want to be a year from now?" I ask.
"Not sure," he says with a coy smile. "As long as I am happy with what I'm doing."