Having spent the last two years hunting for beautiful boy faeries high in the Tuscan Appenines, and taking their musical inspiration from these delicate creatures, Sierra and Bianca Casady are back with a self-released five-track tour EP of twisted fairground cabaret. We had been told to expect more songs along the lines of the whacked-out “spiritual dance music” of last year’s one-off single ‘God Has A Voice, She Speaks Through Me’, and lead track ‘Happy Eyez’ comes closest to that with a classic CocoRosie sampled beat overlaid with a trippy, swirling carnival motif. “They call me Wee Willie Winkie / I’m tired and blinky,” croaks Bianca, but there’s an underlying sadness to this nursery rhyme that balances out the surface nonsense.

The black cloud hanging over the sisters doesn’t go away either. Beneath the brass and cutely piping sampled woodwind of ‘Coconuts’ lies another sorry tale, while piano ballad ‘Milkman’ finds Sierra practically weeping into her Rice Krispies. Things don’t get much sunnier in ‘Joseph City’, an eerie waltz through crepuscular side streets where a cracked, ghostly voice eerily chants the names of colours. Finally, ‘Spirit Lake’ takes us back to the river with some spiritual gospel, drunken keyboard samples, a scratchy beat and some pretty glockenspiel. As a taster for the Casady’s next album, Coconuts, Plenty Of Junk Food shows them stepping back from the hip-hop stylings of The Adventures Of Ghosthorse & Stillborn and skipping through much dreamier terrain. There’s so much going on here, though, and it’ll take a while to unravel if it’s all effective.——Alan Pedder-Wearsthetrousers.com

• Happy Eyez
• Coconuts

CocoRosie.com ## MySpace ## CD’s ## MP3’s ## Hype Machine

Here are a few links to a FaceCulture video interview with Sierra and Bianca:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Promise live

There is a really fantastic documentary-style interview video of CocoRosie that was just recently posted on whitecanvas. The video includes intimate backstage footage as well as some great question & answer material with Bianca and Sierra Casady. Check it out for yourself by clicking HERE.

‘The Eternal Children‘ is a documentary directed by David Kleijwegt (2006). Shown in 6 parts below, it’s about a group of musicians, including Devendra Banhart, Anthony & The Johnsons, CocoRosie and others, who share a common spirituality and lyrical understanding of the world.

On September 2nd CocoRosie will kick of their first North American tour in over two years. Sisters Bianca and Sierra Casady will be joined by bassist Josh Werner and beatboxer Spleen on 14 dates in the US and Canada. Included in their set will be material from their new album, slated for a 2010 release.

Coco Rosie Fall 2009 Tour Dates
September 2nd: New York, NY Highline Ballroom
September 3rd: Washington, DC Black Cat
September 5th: Boston, MA Paradise
September 6th: Quebec, PQ Le Circle
September 7th:  Montreal, PQ Le National
September 9th:  Toronto, ON Lee’s Palace
September 10th: Detroit, MI Crofoot
September 11th: Chicago, IL Logan Square
September 15th: Seattle, WA King’s Cat
September 16th: Vancouver, BC Red Room
September 17th: Portland, OR Alladin
September 19th: Yosemite, CA Symbiosis
September 21st: Los Angeles, CA Henry Fonda

wow. i’m listening to CocoRosie again aka the best ArmenianNativeAmericanSisterDuo from Brookyn by way of France and Hawaii. this is my first time hearing “By Your Side”– i don’t know how i missed it but i finally found this album again. Housewife— it’s satire- i think. really good satire on the things sometimes we have to do.

I’ll scrub your floor
Never be a bore
I’ll tuck you in
I do not snore

I’d wear your black eyes
Bake you apple pies
I don’t ask why
And I try not to cries

How my tears made love to you
Watching dolphins in the sea
The Earth is a pretty place to be
How my tears made love to thee

Crystal light in every creature
Crystal light, (in every creature)
Everyone has love to give

I fell in love with a bad bad man
Every since i met him
I’ve been sad sad sad
I’m a jailbird to your music
A criminal in your prayer
I watch you when you sleep
Even when you’re not there

Rainbows wept color all over the streets
When you went away maybe one day we’ll meet

-cocorosie, tekno love song

]]> http://lesfeessecondaires.wordpress.com/2009/11/22/not-for-sale/ Sun, 22 Nov 2009 23:58:57 +0000 lesfeessecondaires http://lesfeessecondaires.wordpress.com/2009/11/22/not-for-sale/

You can leave me
On the corner
Where you found me
I’m not for sale anymore

Cada seis segundos muere de hambre un niño en el mundo. A mí me da igual y a vosotros también. Sois así, asumidlo, no pasa nada. O sí que pasa, pero os da lo mismo y a mí también. A los líderes les importa un huevo el cambio climático, los chinos y Obama (que es americano, pero menos) lo han demostrado este fin de semana. La corrección política es casi todo lo que nos dicen los profes en el cole. ¿Dónde están las letras “ores” y “gio” de la frase anterior? En el espacio intermedio. El cinismo absoluto es nuestra forma de vida, y entre medias tenemos un espacio de cierta bondad que padece alopecia.

La ignominosa FIFA le mete un paquete a Maradona por decirle a la prensa “que la chupen. Que la sigan chupando” y, mientras tanto, Fabio Capello se pasea ufano por algunos despachos, tras llevarse un pastizábal por desdibujar el estilo -trasnochado y todo lo que queráis- del futbol británico. Ese sinvergüenza no da explicaciones a nadie. Lo de la corrección política que os digo. Y mira que creo que el mundo sería un sitio mejor si le hubiera dado un infarto a Maradona en su último partido como jugador. Siempre tuvo poco estilo. Sin ir más lejos, jugó en el Sevilla. Debe ser así: falto de estilo, despilfarrador. Si Maradona, en lugar de un manirroto, fuera un tío hacendado, me parecería márketing.

Sólo quiero montar una librería y que todo me dé igual. Se llamará “El puntapié de Goickoetxea“. Sería en dos plantas, con suelo de madera, y ladrillo vista pintado en blanco. Tendría grandes estanterías, con una máquina de café express y materia prima italiana de calidad. Organizaría talleres de escritura y otras formas de perder tiempo, en todo tipo de soportes, cosas para niños para los fines de semana, y la señora de la pastelería de al lado me acercaría un bizcocho cada día, a cambio de que le contara una historia. Vendería un puñado de vinilos, novedades de importación. Siempre sonará música chachi, y los viernes por la tarde, habrá un concierto. Ni tan cañeros como Tokio Sex Destruction, ni tan coñazo como Cocorosie.

No quiero FIFA, ni Maradona, ni niños muertos de hambre, ni comerme la promo del último de Sabina.

PD: making off. A loro cómo se relame el perro.

Sério, sempre que eu pensava em upar alguma coisa da dupla americana CocoRosie, dava um erro de upload, de internet, de tudo! Só hoje eu tive de tentar upar quatro vezes pra dar certo e finalmente trago a vocês a dupla mais amorosa e estranha possível. O duo formado pelas lindas irmãs Bianca Leilani Casady e Sierra Rose Casady produzem um som super estranho, meio clássico, meio nova guarda, meio rap, meio rock, puxando às vezes pro eletrônico e utilizando uma infinidade de instrumentos e vozes esquisitas. Sierra de 25 anos e Bianca de 22 tiveram desde cedo uma formação inusitada: Seu pai era adepto do xamanismo e a mãe uma pintora. Elas são meio francesas e meio americanas e sempre estudaram em casa, raramente pisando dentro de uma escola, pois viviam viajando pelas estradas de vários países sem nenhum contato com meios de comunicação – sim! As duas não viam tv, não conheciam computadores nem muita variedade de eletrônicos e eletrodomésticos. Essa vida fez com que as duas um dia se juntassem em Paris e produzissem ali mesmo no apartamento um cd caseiro que foi seu debut, sem nenhuma influência do mundo exterior.

Aqui para download o álbum The Adventures Of Ghosthorse & Stillborn e não se assustem com a voz um tanto rasgada da dupla.     Download

1 – Rainbowarriors

CocoRosie

CocoRosie are a French, freak folk sister act. They were born and raised in the States, but their stomping ground is definitively in France. Children’s toys, harps, synth and beat boxers (particularly live) are all at their musical disposal. I found them while Wikipedia hopping other freak folk acts. I am pretty sure I started with Devendra Banhart, and though the musicians are both under the same genre banner, they could not be more different.

The YouTube video I have posted is a live performance by CocoRosie on French television. I recommend skipping the first 38 seconds of dialogue. Their live rendition of “Werewolf” is much more of a rap compared to the studio version, but it is still entertaining. The voice of one of the sisters sounds a lot like a female of version of For He Who Hung the Moon — a local Gainesville folk singer: http://www.myspace.com/forhewhohungthemoon. There is his MySpace if you would like to compare and tell me how wrong I am.

The lead vocals are so harsh and high pitched. The music is essentially a conventional mix of dance beats and punk sensibilities, but it is infectious as hell. I never realized I liked so many French all girl bands. I found them on a friend of a friend’s music blog. I particularly like the chorus of the song “Bloody Bloody Whiffy Scuzzy.” The Decibelles guitarist sounds like a seagull crying at my old Elementary school on free popcorn day while the drummer coos playfully in the background. Warning: if you faint at the sight of blood, particularly fake menstrual blood, do not watch this video.

Waylong Thorton and the Heavy Hands are a husband and wife duo from Gainesville. Waylon plays guitar and contributes yelping garage rock vocals and Meg is the “heavy hands” drummer. It doesn’t get much heavier than this. They can be described as a blend of surf rock, garage rock and just plain rock n’ roll. Throw some punk and folk in there and you have the Heavy Hands. On a side note: they are really nice people as well. Meg is going to have a baby soon. A miniature pair of heavy hands, if you will. They just came out with a new album called “Evil.” It is one of the strongest they have produced. It opens up with a very biblical (the angry old testament mind you), Ennio Morricone flavored rant riff. If you contact them on any one of the many venues they are represented (Facebook, Myspace, etc.), I am sure they would be more than happy to lead you to a copy of the album online somewhere.

My girlfriend told me I would have to live under a rock to not have heard this song by MGMT. I guess I live under a rock. I only discovered this song a few weeks ago. I have known the band for a few years, though it was “Kids” that solidified their status as kings of psychedelic synthpop (a very specific title indeed) in my book. I was introduced to them in a period of time when I would “Tivo” blocks of music videos and rummage through the videos almost daily. “Time to Pretend” was my introduction to MGMT: a video where they jump around a fire on a beach and show trippy images of the repeated images of band members. I felt the song was kind of dull, although it did grow on me. Overall, I felt the duo was trying to be bombastic and bigger than life, but managed only to be a blip on the heart monitor of hippy acid dance music. The Michael Jackson tinged ”Electric Feel” gave me renewed hope in them, although I was not totally convinced of the glory and praise they were receiving from critics. “Kids” is the song that changed my mind. It is a manically happy, yet depressing piece of art. It is a brilliant piece of music, lyrically as well as in its simple, catchy instrumentation. I read somewhere the lyrics in the chorus could refer to “The Giving Tree” by Shel Silverstein, which is a perfectly presentable theory and a bonus.

Controversy aside, the music video perfectly portrays a child’s perspective on life: the scary bogey man who lurks around the corner, the fears which are more concrete and ugly at that age. It fits the lyrics like a glove. As a child I always wondered how adults did not fear imaginary monsters. It turns out they just fear different kinds of monsters than kids.

I keep introducing Spark is a Diamond to friends, but so far I am the only one who enjoys them. One friend claimed the music was fine until the vocals came in. I am pretty sure that is most people’s train of thought. I can only imagine what my dad would say after hearing their songs. For the record, I think the exact opposite of everyone else. The expert mash up of  in-your-face dance beats and alternating female/male vocal screams is something the world has never seen. Or has never seen done well. It is a fine line that Spark is a Diamond walks on. I do not believe any other band could mix dance and hardcore punk and achieve anything but trash. This band, however, achieves magic.

Well, that is it for now. From  the looks of the list, I guess I have been in a dance music kind of mood lately. Usually it is predominately punk and folk, so I welcome the change. That is not to say old Sum 41 and the new albums from Andrew Jackson Jihad, Monsters of Folk and The Avett Brothers have not been in heavy rotation as well. I think that last sentence has a double negative. Oh well.

Ver a un hombre rascándose un huevo por la calle no es muy agradable. Si encima el señor no es muy agraciado y lo único que lleva puesto son unas chanclas y un bañador tipo de competición pero con estampado de fantasía, la imagen puede hacer que se te indigeste el desayuno.

Ya he salido cruzado de casa porque tenía la nevera bajo mínimos y con las naranjas que había sólo he podido rascar algo más de medio vaso. También he acabado con el pavo, el pan y el queso al hacerme una especie de triquini. A pesar del precario desayuno y de cruzarme con el señor del huevo nada más salir de casa, no he desfallecido en mi último día de la Operación Crisantemo. Ya por rutina he hecho la ruta de las iglesias. La Universal abierta pero vacía, la Asamblea en obras, con tres albañiles martilleando la fachada y la de Sâo Sebastiâo cerrada. En el cementerio sí he visto algo de actividad, pero no había demasiada gente. Encima de algunas tumbas, muy pocas, han dejado ramos artificiales de los que se pueden encontrar en los chinos (los chinos de ahí, que aquí no hay). Flores de tela baratera o de plástico grueso y duro como las que se llevaban hace 40 años. Crisantemos no. Ningún crisantemo ni vivo ni muerto.

En otras poblaciones de la zona sí se ha celebrado el día de manera más intensa. Hay un reportaje fotográfico donde se ve a gente tocando el saxo en el cementerio, helicópteros lanzando mogollón pétalos y, por fin ¡crisantemos!. En algunas de las fotos se pueden apreciar, así que señoras floristas, la respuesta es sí, aquí también ofrecen crisantemos a sus muertos. Aquí está el reportaje.

Con esa satisfacción que da hacer bien los deberes, me he dado unos paseos y he ido a ver a mis amigos los fruteros para poder desayunar mañana con un poco de dignidad e imaginación.

Para que el día acabe perfecto, los de la pousada de al lado deberían dejar de hacer jarana, que me tienen frito con tanto reguetón y tanto devórame otra vez. En la puerta de la urbanización está este cartel, a veces, cuando la lían mucho, me dan ganas de arrancarlo de la puerta y lanzárselo a la cabeza del primero que pille, a poder ser el DJ.

Yo también pongo música todo el día, pero a un volumen social. Y no es por nada, pero mi música me parece mejor que la suya, faltaría más. Ahora suena Promise de Cocorosie, una gente muy rara. Tan rara que aún no he conocido a nadie más que haya comprado algún disco suyo.

I’ve been in love with this song for so long, so i decided to share with you. This is an example of how creativity can go, and surprises us with little things. Hope you like it as much i do!

Myspace Web site

I fell in love with a bad bad man
Ever since I met him I’ve been sad sad sad

June faded into bloom
The September moon waned and grew
Your perfume haunted me long after
I saw the swing of heaven’s gate opening towards me

Luxurious in your arms
Your smile is a cool sun in the dark
Misery rejoices when you’re near
And fever, no sign of sickness
Keeps me burning down in my heart

Winter melts, she shies away
Quiet like the silence a dying star makes
I’m a jailbird to your music
A criminal in your prayer
I watch you in your sleep
Even when you’re not there

Picture this:
Your lips on my lips
A mirror has to do for now
‘Cause you vanished like a cloud

Rainbows wept color
All over the streets
When you went away
Maybe one day we’ll meet

Oh woman you’re callin’ me
Haven’t slept a wink since 1916
I wasn’t born then
But sure feels time’s been tickin’

Shadows parade outside my door
I wish we were dancing across this old floor
Car horns honkin’ down that dirty street
Wish you were yellin’ time time to wash my feet

Lipstick I’d wear for one million years
Just to stop the tears
Your eyes from fallin’, fallin’….

Antony of Antony and the Johnsons reads this poem in the background of Coco Rosie’s “Tekno Love Song”. I like this for its starkness, disconnectedness, and the atmosphere it creates in my mind. I’ve looked for more poetry by Antony and haven’t found anything I like quite so much, which makes me think that maybe it’s not an original, though I’ve been told that it is.

COCOROSIE- NOAH’S ARK….BACK IN 2005….LET YOUR EARDRUMS DREAM!!!

hitler in my heart-antony and the johnsons-2000

hands away-interpol-turn on the bright lights-2002

heroes and villains-brian wilson-smile-2004

hold your secrets to your heart-miracle fortress-five roses-2006

in limbo-radiohead-kid a-2000

in my room-last shadow puppets-the age of understatement-2008

knot comes loose-my morning jacket-z-2005

jackie-the new pornographers-mass romantic-2000

k-hole-cocorosie-noha’s ark-2005

libraries-seabear-the ghost that carried us away-2007

lovely allen-holy fuck-2007

I once fell in love with you 
Just because the sky turned from gray 
Into blue 

só por causa do texto de ontem

Snack for a Rainbow Warrior

So, I recently revisited Björk’s Vespertine because, as followers of the blog can probably guess, it made me a feminist and I will be posting about the hows and whys of it at length in the not-too-distant future.

But one thing I forgot about the album that really impacted what I listen for in other people’s music is non-traditional instrumentation. Of course Björk would extend these musical explorations further with her follow-up, Medúlla, which was largely an a cappella record that explicitly configured the voice as an instrument, and often a percussive one at that (hopefully the feminist possibilities of using the voice –both explicitly female and degendered through digital manipulation – as such an integral part of song construction are obvious). But with Vespertine, she and production team Matmos often constructed beats out of surprising, often small, seemingly non-musical objects often associated with leisure pursuits or the domestic, like a deck of cards or cutlery.

Listening to the album again reinvigorated my interest in hearing weird objects be used as instruments. Today, I offer up toys as possible instruments and present bands Y Pants and CocoRosie as evidence. Representing New York at two very different times (early 80s and present-day, respectively), these two bands have members who employ rudimentary electronic toy pianos, noisemakers, and other gadgets that seem swiped from a long-abandoned bargin bin.

Y Pants; image courtesy of waylonhatchet.com

CocoRosie; image courtesy of nymag.com

For Y Pants’ Gail Vachon and Virginia Piersol, the toy piano and drums became an interesting way to reconfigure the sound of dub and reggae, two key interrelated musical movements for both punk and post-punk that had probably become too predictable as white-appropriated touchstones by 1979. As Y Pants were associated with no wave, with ukelele player Barbara Ess once a member of Theoretical Girls, another seminal band of the period formed by guitar visionary/cranky drunk grandpa Glenn Branca, there’s an excellent chance the band was rebelling against post-punk’s intellectualist posturing and angular guitar lines. What better way to piss off the scene than making messy music about the joys of eating with factory-produced shiny plastic toys?

(Note: Apologies, but I cannot find a live performance for Y Pants. As with much no wave, which was reviled by pretty much anyone with ears at the time and only recently became cool, despite the Brian Eno-produced No New York compilation, there’s not a lot of recorded evidence of the band in concert. The only thing I’ve seen that really documents the scene is Downtown ‘81, but Y Pants were just about to break up by then. Which is too bad, because apparently they were all about unconventional performance spaces. So if you have any leads on where to track down a clip, let me know. In the meantime, check out Y Pants, a repressing that combines their self-titled EP with their only album, Beat It Down.)

With CocoRosie, the instrumentation conveys something a little more transparently disturbing. Sierra Casady’s sweet, at once jazzy and operatic vocals contrast with wheezy, out-of-time bleeps and bloops from sister Bianca’s various toy instruments, which foreground songs that tend to focus on death, drugs, doomed love, incest, AIDS, abuse, and co-dependency. The toys, which may one day expire or be discarded, then become a symbol of betrayed innocence, the cold assurance that childhood — girlhood — is going to end in loss. At least you have your sister, who may also be your lover.

As an aside, I can’t bring up CocoRosie without pointing out that they’re really problematic in terms of race. They’ve dabbled with cholo fashion, perhaps in acknowledgement to the multifaceted dimensions of their Native American heritage, which they have also hailed in their attire and music.

Racially dicey sister-lovers; image courtesy of beastnation.com

In addition, they’ve made me a bit queasy in their appropriations of blackness. They consciously try on the voices of African American jazz singers like Billie Holiday. In addition, on ”Jesus Loves Me,” a track off their first album, La maison de mon rêve, the girls uses a certain racial slur when singing that God’s only son loves them, but not their wives, or their black friends. And Bianca has long been a fixture at Kill Whitey parties in Brooklyn.

That said, to borrow a phrase from Seth Watter’s Dusted review of Y Pants, both bands’ use of toys help build minor manifestos that sound like “a small explosion in the bedroom.” In his essay “The ‘Feminization’ of Rock,” Tony Grajeda argues that the bedroom is a domestic, queerable, intimate space where most lo-fi music is written, rehearsed, and recorded. While he was thinking about primarily-male indie rock acts like Pavement, the bedroom is clearly where Y Pants and CocoRosie belong as well. Just don’t pretend there isn’t anything subversive about what these ladies do in there.

Anmelder: Maria Barrett

Med La Maison de Mon Rêve er du inviteret til fest i bløde velourpuder på en skæv og utæt bondegård med to sære søstre, en harpe og et utal af dyr som værter.

Rimbaud, Hitler og Jim Morrison
Bianca (Coco) og Sierra (Rosie) Casadys debut La Maison de Mon Rêve fra 2004 er det mest tilgængelige fra duoen til dato og et godt sted at starte, hvis du ikke har mødt Coco og Rosie før.

La Maison de Mon Rêve er CocoRosie inden famøse gæstestjerner som Devandra Banhart og Antony (uden the Johnsons) og inden Valgeir Sigurdson (hvis klientel også tæller Björk og Múm) som producer. Til gengæld er både Rimbaud, Hitler og Jim Morrison med – af omtale.

Albummet blev til i Paris, men albumtitlen forekommer som det mest franske på duoens debut.  Cocorosies lyd er primært båret af søstrenes stemmer.  Sierras stemme er klassisk skolet. Biancas kan efterligne de fleste lyde et gammel hus kan lave.

Weird
Genren er folk, men iblandet andre urter (hvis I forstår). Weird America (også kendt som freak folk og psych folk) dækker over en række forskellige kunstnere med en skæv – og til tider vind og skæv – akustisk lyd.

Hos Casadysøstrene er lyden rå og upoleret. Biancas stemme knager, knirker, bræger, hvæser og hvisker. Sierras stemme klinger rent sammen med harpespil over lyden af regn i en blikpotte, raslen, muh’en, kaglen, båtten og trutten.

Skittles, Rimbaud, vuggeviser, Hitler, engle og Jim Morrison
På seksogfyrre og et halvt minut kommer teksterne omkring så forskellige emner som slik ( ’Butterscotch’), evig troskab (’West Side’ og ’By Your side’) katolicismens paradokser (’Madonna’ og ’Jesus Loves Me’), stemning fra to tidligere franske kolonier (’Tahiti Rain Song’ og ’Haitian Love Song’) og prostitution (’Lyla’ og ’Not for Sale’).

Skittles, Rimbaud, vuggeviser, Hitler, engle og Jim Morrison i mørke
Uanset temaet er lurende mørke, kompleksiteten og den kantede knirken gennemgående, mens graden af barnlighed varierer. Fra ’Butterscoth’: ”Skittles are the rainbow /And every color’s popular though /Red gets the most invitations/To the jr. high celebrations /And I’ll go alone I don’t care /’Cause rainbow’s not my favorite color” til den hudløse ’Lyla’, der handler om prostitution: ”Where was I from you said/You guessed Yugoslavia /Well it’s not Yogoslavia /It’s not Yugoslavia at all/It reminded me /of a movie i just saw.”

Jeg vil ikke fremhæve enkelte numre frem for andre, men start med albummets første skæring ’Terrible Angels’ og sæt resten af en mørk, regntung eftermiddag af.

I don’t have pictures to post at the end of this, partly because I have found other things to occupy my past few days. This being said, I am going to provide you with an audio clip of a duo group called CocoRosie. I’ve been listening to this song on repeat for the past thirty minutes, roughly, and for some reason I can’t stop pushing play once it finishes. Perhaps it will do something for you as well.

By Your Side – CocoRosie

I am not sure if you have ever played the game Mad Gab, but it is quite an amusing game to play with friends. The purpose of the game is to recognize the word(s) or phrase that is implied with the group of words that are awkwardly formed on the card. I know this is confusing, but I’d like to give an example.

Fit He Owes Door. This is something that would appear on a card that you would have to guess what it says. If you’ve already played and are decently good, you will instantly understand that the word is Video Store. So, the game goes and, depending on the house rules, you get a certain amount of points in the allotted time.

There are two reasons I am bringing up this game. The first is that it is a genuinely fun game to play. While the opposing team is going, listening to them sound it out can be quite laughter ensuing. It’s ridiculous because you think they know what they’re saying, but they are just as clueless as someone speaking another language that they can’t understand. The second reason involves an idea that was sparked while in small group at church tonight. The topic was discerning the voice of God, and while we were discussing someone had mentioned that it might be that we’re straining really hard for something so simple. This is where the game kicked in.

It makes sense to me, and perhaps only me, that both Mad Gab and discerning God’s voice are similar. While the other team is doing their round, you can listen in and find out what it is they’re supposed to say way before they find out themselves. If you’ve never played the game, you go into with no experience and 0% chance of having an idea of what some examples are. That being said, discerning the voice of God seems comparable in that we need experience. We need to be involved in relationship with the Lord so that we can align with his motives and listen to what he has to say. If we aren’t communicating, how can we listen?

On the other hand, experience with the game is great. If you’ve played before, then there is a chance that a card you’ve previously answered before will come up again, causing an easy point. Pertaining to the voice of God, I feel that, personally, it is much easier to hear the Lord when you know what you’re looking for. It may not be the same exact concept every single time, but with the experience of relationship with God, we have an understanding of his desires. I have had seasons of life where trying to hear God sounds like the last thing that could possibly happen because of a lack of relationship. There have been times where I have put it no effort and subsequently I am getting no response.

Thankfully, I am in a season of growth in relationship with God, and it’s wonderful. It isn’t necessarily that I am hearing God speak to me in audible sounds, but I feel more appreciation to things that haven’t been appreciated much. It is as simple as the thankfulness for the weather and the strangers that surround me.