by Joe Smith
The views expressed are those of the author alone
Monsoon Music House is a collective, established by local artists (Edgar Wonder, Abel John, and Jimmy Climbs) to source, promote, collaborate, and showcase other musical talent, while working with local venues to execute their vision and purpose. It doesn’t start and end with music, however, as every musician I’ve heard this year, is also involved with other forms of art, film, social media, digital and analog productions, and videography, not to mention most have day jobs. The talent and vision of this collective are beautifully diverse and vastly inclusive.
It’s too freakin early for a year-end review, but the locals cannot stop talking about the generous monsoon season the desert southwest had in 2022. The welcomed summer rains drove me to seek higher ground and to get out of my suffocating Duke City dwelling. Somewhere between the east mountains and the petroglyphs, just north of old Mexico, I stumbled upon Monsoon Music House and the work they were doing for local musicians. Like many others, it seems, I have been on a path of enlightenment and gratitude, and I no longer ask questions when I find live music, local artist pop-ups, community collectives, or any effort to make this a better place. I simply go. With the flood waters rising, I found no coincidence that my drift log beached on the community that was Monsoon Music House in the summer of 2022.
Over the summer, Monsoon Music House launched a phenomenal local songwriter competition, hosted by High and Dry Brewing, that brought assorted musical talent out of the dusty cobwebs of New Mexico and placed them directly in the spotlight for all of Albuquerque to see and hear. Just as I was burning my old habits and identity, Monsoon Music House was lighting the town on fire with high-octane, original music. The songwriter competition was wildly intense, stressful, fun, and rewarding. Even those who didn’t advance (or “win”) experienced something magical and enlightening during that exposure.
My previous life placed me in worlds at times when major things were evolving; buzzing. I lived in the UK during the early days of Oasis seizing the world stage. I lived in Louisiana when Master P and Cash Money Records had the new Dirty South buying gold chains and Cash Money phone cards; I lived in South Korea when Gangnam Style gave the world seizures; I was exploring Alaska on the heels of Portugal The Man taking over the Mat-Su Valley and ultimately, going alternative rock mainstream; I was in Las Vegas, Nevada when the city acquired the Golden Knights in a town no one ever thought would get a professional sports team; and now, in the Land of Enchantment, I find myself again amidst the buzz and magnanimous energy that is being fueled by Monsoon Music House and their tsunami of artistic love.
Teddy Roosevelt once said that “it is not the critic that counts…the credit belongs to the man in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood…so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.” Monsoon Music House is in the arena. They are in the pit, sleeves rolled up, boots strapped, and doing the damn work. There is no need to sit around the coffee table to critique their effort or stifle their progress. All we have to do is show up, support local, and offer love, just as Monsoon Music House has done with their surge of charitable energy and selfless effort.
