I'm set, focused on my plan. At home, dressed in all blue, I'm ready to do laundry, then kick back and watch some artsy love flick about two handsome people. Restless, I need an imagination fix. Restlessness. Lately it swallows me up, coming at me like the leaf-blowing men outside — a daily, relentless explosion.  

He calls Cincinnati music a "wild dog." Although Josh Eagle (vocals, guitar, harmonica) spent time in Hawaii last year, he's back in Northside, living like a poet in a house in the woods where he creates. With a fresh album out ('Show Your Teeth'), he seems serious and engaged. Tall and wiry, he kicks back on a picnic bench, wearing new glasses, new shoes, a new haircut.  

Five a.m. Dear God. Often, that’s how I begin journal entries. And so begins this one to you. Dear God, where’s J? Miss you, bro. Gonna caulk my tub today. Damn, can’t stop thinking about that kid who jumped from the GW Bridge. Could’ve been me a while back. Amy’s frozen meals on sale. God. When I use that word, I mean something inside and out.  

Now, since I'm having another birthday, it's a time for reflection, a time to purchase reading glasses, a time to eat straight icing and a time to crawl under a rock and hide with my dark blanket of complete, utter, desperate, lonely depression. Joking. Actually, last night I thought about a boatload of strange things that have changed in this world since I was little, and the following are some important things that I’d like to mention.  

The Dust Feel frontman Mike Schalk takes another drag off his cigarette, smiles and says, "The last couple of months, I've been swimming in music." Yes, hard to leave the pool once you're in — the land of ever-cool, both darkness and light, both hazy and clear blue. If you love it, like us, why leave, really? Sometimes, sound is the greatest life preserver.  

Happenstance. Seven years ago, two witty Geminis, Arianne Benick (vocals) and Julia Johanan (keys), met at a party. Soon they created a women's group, hit up yoga and one day randomly busted out "Takin It Slow," now track 5 on the debut EP from Cincinnati band iolite.  

Seven years ago, two witty Geminis (vocalist Arianne Benick and keyboardist Julia Johanan) met at a party. Soon they created a women's group, hit up yoga and one day randomly busted out "Takin It Slow," now track 5 on the debut EP from Cincinnati band iolite. Their music is a sultry combination of soul, jazz, blues, reggae and a little dash of R&B. iolite plays at The Greenwich the first Thursday of every month.  

Spawned out of a Radiohead tribute show two years ago, The Guild of Calamitous Intent was born. Guitarist Rob Clark says, "It's probably the best band live musical experience I've ever been a part of. I just like to keep an open mind with where we're going. It seems to take its way naturally with these guys." They play a '90s tribute show (and fundraiser) Saturday at Mainstay Rock Bar.  

Spawned out of a Radiohead tribute show two years ago, The Guild of Calamitous Intent was born. Their vivid emotion pushes the structure. Intense drum parts creep in to bang-bang-shake things up, and then the mood settles into rich guitar riffs. The songs are long, around seven minutes each, but the multiple crescendos maintain a high suspense level.  

"We're there for us, and if the people like it that’s even better," says drummer Charles Hemlock. "We're not out to impress anybody, just having fun, and I think it shows when we're up there playing for each other." On and off stage, there's something underground, cloak-and-dagger mysterious about Incline District.