Communities Rock!

Let’s face it—“community” is a slippery word. It can mean your block, your bandmates, the group chat you’ve got going at 3 a.m., or the raucous, beehive-minded hordes at your favorite dive on a Saturday night. Hell, it might be just two people swapping cassette tapes—or millions tuning into their favorite pirate radio stream. But make no mistake: we all belong to a handful of communities, whether we know it or not.

Getting serious about music again has thrust me into a kaleidoscope of these tribes—some familiar, some utterly new.

Take musicians. Yeah, they’re a tight-knit pack of strange animals. They've got their own language (equal parts inside jokes and mystical jargon), a shared obsession, and often, a stubborn streak of idealism. That crew’s always felt like home to me, but lately, I’ve been vibing with a whole new flock: the DIY and indie music community. If the big-label system once acted as the great gatekeeper, tech’s gone and burned the gate down. Now, everyone with a mic, a MIDI controller, and a Wi-Fi signal can make some noise. This has spawned an explosively creative scene that stretches across digital threads, connecting bedroom rock stars and basement beat makers alike. Through this new digital jungle, I’ve met countless like-minded creators, each with their own little pocket universe of sound.

Then there’s the radio gang—a scene I hadn’t given much thought to until the Fall Dogs started racking up airplay. You’ve got your faceless mega-stations pumping out Top 40 and mattress-sale jingles (hard pass), but dive deeper, and you hit the treasure trove: community and college radio. These stations spin records because they actually care, building worlds around the unsung voices of independent and local acts. Thanks to them, the Fall Dogs found fans without playing sellout roulette.

Oh, and get this: music journalists—they’re their own circle of word-wielding warriors. Case in point: out of nowhere, the fine folks at The Spill name-dropped us in a glowing review of “Holiday, Holiday, Holiday,” my stab at a festive tune. Shoutout to scribes like Bryan Williston and Aaron Badgley, who keep this delicate, nerdy (in a good way) art of documenting music alive. Without their pens, the scrappy underdogs like us might never make it into print.

But communities don’t just stay virtual. This weekend, I’ll be back where it all started: my geographic stomping grounds. I’m hitting the stage at Brunny’s in Thamesford after the Santa Claus parade—great to be back to this small-town family of dreamers. Free hot cocoa, cookies, and a debut of the Fall Dogs’ EP Wo Shou await. It’s our little holiday card to 2024: music stitched from a year of indie highs and humble late-night takes.

So, as the year wraps up, here’s to all the communities that keep us buzzing and belonging. Whether you’re raising a real glass at Brunny’s or a virtual one from across the world, let’s toast: to peace, love, respect, and the relentless pulse of good music.

Catch you on the flip side. ✌️