I'm a little bit bummed right now, I have to say. Maybe it's the rain. I'd like to think it is. But frankly, I think it's the war. The fact is, as I write this, Saddam Hussein is one hour from his deadline to leave Iraq. Soon, Bush is gonna take some serious action. Finding the energy to concentrate on anything else is difficult.

(Update: Now, we are at war.)

I know, I know--everyone's talking about it. Everyone has an opinion, and here in the music section, in an upbeat (and kinda geeky) column about the all-ages music community, maybe the topic of war should be left alone. In fact, I like Neal Pollack's advice--everyone just shut up.

I can't deny, though, that it's on my mind (constantly). But the days keep coming. As trite and silly as it may seem, a few of my favorite albums, and some stellar upcoming shows, are the things I'm able to really look forward to. It's so tempting to stay under the covers until it all goes away, isn't it? But if I stayed in bed all day, I'd miss Onelinedrawing at Graceland on April 1, and that's unacceptable.

I've written about Onelinedrawing before--I love him and I can't shut up about him. ("Him" being Jonah Matranga, the former lead singer for the now defunct band Far, and current lead singer--uh, only singer--of his current solo project Onelinedrawing.)

What I love about him is more than just his music. He writes some great songs, for sure, but he also has fantastic ideas and an honest (and contagious) enthusiasm. That enthusiasm gives him the balls to get on a stage by himself immediately following a hardcore-ish band (like, say, Hopesfall) and quietly sing to a crowd that might rather be jumping and punching and doing other hardcore dance things.

And for that half-hour, 45 minutes, whatever, everyone shuts up and pays attention. Matranga does his thing and hopes people can appreciate (or at least respect) him for that. And of course they can, because his songs and his voice are beautiful, fun, sad, and... oh, why try explaining, it's so much more than that.

Right now, hearing someone sing honestly about how he's feeling (without being cheesy and--I'll just say it--wimpy and "emo"), well, that sounds really nice.

So on Tuesday, I'll climb outta bed, I'll shower, and I'll stop listening to Elton John circa 1971 for a few hours and drag my mopey ass to Graceland. And you should too. MEGAN SELING

megan@thestranger.com

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