When I was young and didn’t know better, I thought I could do anything I wanted to do. I wanted to be a cartoonist. Draw funny pictures for a living. All my favorite comic strips were created by accidental artists: “I didn’t set out to draw a comic strip, but now I’m in thousands of newspapers. Go figure.” I hated reading stories like that.
If I were a musician, I’d hate Tomorrows Tulips’ story. It goes something like this…Alex Knost started this band called The Japanese Motors with some friends when he was 17. They didn’t know how to play instruments, but they practiced a lot, then got signed to Vice Records and toured the world with bands like Modest Mouse. Then he thought it’d be better to play and tour with his girlfriend (wise choice) and so he wrote some songs, she played the drums, and now they have a record out on this cool boutique label.
Tomorrows Tulips are all reverby and lo-fi. The guitars give off a hazy shimmer, the sunset’s rose reflection off the rippling sea. Simple melodies and hooky bits that get stuck in your head like the ocean does in your sinuses after you’ve been out surfing all morning.
Oh yeah, and Knost rips at surfing and skateboarding.
Some guys have all the luck. And skill.
The rest of us blog.
Tomorrows Tulips – “Casual Hopelessness” from jack Coleman on Vimeo.
Tomorrows Tulips – “Eternally Teenage” from jack Coleman on Vimeo.





I have this tendency to get addicted to songs to the point that the people around me begin throwing heavy objects at my throat and knee-caps. The detox process consists of playing the song over and over while I write a little narrative of my relationship with that song. Lately, I haven’t detoxed; it’s hard to get back into that habit once you’ve abandoned it. After today I promise not to discuss my lingering absence.
Let’s face it, 2010 was less than stellar at this url. The principals and our reviewers all dropped out of ear-shot simultaneously and for months 3hive has been out of commission. No particular reason really. Life unplugged us, and once unplugged it’s hard to get back into gear, back into the groove.
A smooth Christmas rebirth.