Pages

Wednesday, May 29, 2013

Yesterday's Zeitgeist: A Series of Songs You Won't Find Elsewhere (Part 4)

[Something snarky, overly-jaded, and self-effacing]
Very original, I know.

22. Stock On by English Softhearts


The only version I could find is muddy as fuck, unfortunately.  Or... maybe fortunately if that's your thing?  Underneath that fuzz is a good rocker though.  And by "fuzz" I mean "total lack of compression and whatnot".  Cuz I don't wanna imply that fuzz is a bad thing.  Cuz the 90s be all about dat fuzz.

23. Facial Disobedience by Radon

There's a better-sounding version on the YouTubez, but for some reason Blogger is stupid and can't find it.

Weeeee more early pop-punk!
God damn it I'm really running out of things to say about every single song.  I mean, what, I like it.
Also it's late.  And work in the morning.  And why am I trying to get this post done before hitting the sack.

24. Trunk by Spinout


Cowpunk: something that only could have existed in the 90s.

25. Not Too Soon by Throwing Muses


Obandl kmsc fagn bgljksdclm, ladgb kjlalvmalv?  Dobius vmaeorus nkclmroeubsn dlkd frhgbdjd aivsoinvae iofgjnkg!  Aiv nspdvm jfso.  Aoinwoief djfddk fjok lfdslkj dv...
Translation: Thomas is tired and lazy.

26. I Get Lonesome by Beck

Once again Blogger's being a bitch.
Here's the URL:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a9BA830g6pc
Thank me later.

Okay, I know the subtitle of this series is "A Series of Songs You Won't Find Elsewhere" and most of these have been pretty out-of-nowhere so far, but if you haven't heard of Beck... go rethink your life.  Not to be like "OMG BECK IS THE EVERYTHING HOMG", but if you've heard of the 90s, you should generally know at least one thing about Beck, at least the fact that he exists.
And also this song's really good.

27. Not All Right as covered by Meat Puppets

Wow, Blogger is really on that shit tonight.
Here, fuckin' URL:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cn_jLrJCIhY

Curt Kirkwood, whatever I did to hurt you, I'm so, so sorry.
Song originally by The Germs!

28. Suki by Unrest
And last but not least...!
(What would the proper punctuation be if I'm trying to indicate trailing off and yelling at you at the same time?  The above, right?  That "...!"?  I mean, the exclamation before the ellipses would just look stupid.  And you can't really put the exclamation before the sentence.  What is this, Meck-zee-ko?)


Finally, a frackin video that I can actually find with the uploader.

Know what?  There, that's the last song.  That's it.  Go home.  No, no "in summation" or dramatic closing thing, that's all you get.  Done with this.  I have other things to be doing.

PS: I'm sorry I yelled at you.  Daddy's had a bad day at work.

Saturday, May 25, 2013

Yesterday's Zeitgeist: A Series of Songs You Won't Find Elsewhere (Part 3)

[Cheesy introduction]

15. Suck My Left One by Bikini Kill


...Welll fuck.  That's "riot grrl", everybody.
It's funny though, a friend and I had a little convo just the other night about what the fuck "riot grrl" even is.  Why can't we just call this "punk rock" or "grunge"?  Cuz besides the fact that it's a chick singing, it's... it's pretty much one of those things.
Well, enough bemoaning of genres and their hair-splitting tendencies.  Ain't here to preach.

16. Cool Schmool by Bratmobile


A cool walking-of-the line between bassless lo-fi indie, surf, and punk... which people still manage to label as "riot grrl".
Hope this isn't a theme of today's post.

17. If You See Kay by Poster Children


Crazy screamy 90s rock with the flavor of a 50s groove.  Fuck yeah.
Also, when I first searched for this song, all I found were videos having to do with The Script.  YouTube was telling me that this song was by The Script.  I'm terrified that The Script covered this song.  That would not be okay.
Sorry to anyone that likes The Script.  But no.
(BTW: When you see what they did there... you'll say "I see what you did there".)

18. Steady Diet by Fugazi


Oh hai Fugazi.  Yes, it's good to see you too.
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh early post-hardcore.

No.

19. Group Sex as covered by Black Velvet Flag


Holy FUCK that's groovy.  Lounge punk at its best.  And only.  Cuz this is the first time I've even heard of lounge punk.  Unless we're counting Richard Cheese.
Must... not... reuse... joke...
And we're not counting-

NO.

Richard Cheese.

GOD DAMN IT.

20. Fourth of July by Galaxie 500


Fuckyeahdreampop.

21. Nico and His Cats by Uzeda


...Welp.
On another note, these guys are apparently from Sicily.

To Be Continued Yet A-fucking-gain.  Seriously Though This Is the Last Time.

Wednesday, May 22, 2013

One-Hit-Wonder Wednesday the Third! I Think! Probably Fourth!

I feel like I had a different one-hit wonder in mind, but this'll do just fine.

So apparently Spin Doctors are coming out with a new album!  Like, kinda soon actually.  And playing a show somewhere in Illinois.  Which is probably free because it's the Spin Doctors.  And I am so there.

You know, I just remembered, I did a random bullshit-ass post about the Spin Doctors like a couple months ago.  Hm.

Well have m0ar!


Seriously?  You really didn't see this coming?

Yesterday's Zeitgeist: A Series of Songs You Won't Find Elsewhere (Part 2)

And we're back!  Starting with...

8. Flat Out Fucked by Mudhoney


...a band you actually may have heard of!  Dirty grunge riffing, dirty grunge yelling, dirty grunge solo...  I feel like there's a theme to this one, but I just can't put my finger on it.

9. Range Life by Pavement


Really doesn't get much more 90s-indie than Pavement.  Chill yet melodic, good melodies.  Czech it out.

10. I Was a Stranger by Smog

For whatever stupid reason, Blogger can't find any of the videos I found for this song, so here's a link:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cYGraw-3rLA

Dat pedal steel.
For real doe; Bill Callahan, folks.  Recorded under the name "Smog" for a long time.  Bit of an unsung hero of alt-country.

11. Down with the Bass by fIREHOSE


Dear whoever was in charge of making a VEVO for fIREHOSE: you had ONE JOB.  You made it FireHOUSE and now this is me yelling at you in LOTS OF CAPS.
So I'm not sure what bass fIREHOSE is saying "down with", whether that be a specific bass guitar, the rash of wobble bass in today's music (though that would've required some sort of precognitive abilities on fIREHOSE's part, not entirely unlikely), or the fish and they're just mispronouncing it, but I say up with the bass when it comes to this song.  Holy spumoni that's groovy.
("Up with the bass"?  "Holy spumoni"?  Really phoning it in, aintcha Thomas?)

12. Don, Aman by Slint


So, apparently Slint is "sadcore".  I also learned that I must have a serious sadcore influence, cuz this is the kind of shit I like to write from time to time.  And by "from time to time", I mean "like half the time".  Minus the spoken word-y vocals.
I don't know what a sadcore is, but if most of it's like this, then it's pretty cool.

13. Guest List by Screeching Weasel


Holy shit, pop punk before pop punk was a thing.  Except, you know, good.  Just kidding!  There's good pop punk.  Somewhere.
And they're from Chicago too!  Water ya know.

14. Tiger Trap by Beat Happening


Damn listen to them opening chords.  Slash, the chords that play throughout the song.  Cuz I think they're like the same ones played in different orders, for six minutes.  If you're into mellow, super-texturey three-chord songs, give it a whirl.  Good chance you'll love this.  Even if you're not, give it a go anyway.  The alternative is eating a plate of balls.  Whole plate of 'em.  You think I'm lying.  I have a plate of balls on hand.  It will go in your mouth.

To Be Continued!  ...Again!

Monday, May 20, 2013

Yesterday's Zeitgeist: A Series of Songs You Won't Find Elsewhere (Part 1)

Y'all may have noticed that title sounds like something off a particularly pretentious "special issue" of Rolling Stone.  Well it should.  Cuz this is something like that.

A teacher o' mine, Brian Costello of the Functional Blackouts (it's a band, look 'em up), recently clued me in on a list of songs he thought captured the spirit of the particular decade that this blog pays homage to.  In case you haven't been paying attention, that's the 90s.  He didn't offer his opinions on any of them, just cranked out this list with a "Whoomp, they it is."  Okay, he didn't say that, and I don't think those are the exact words of whoever made that song, but here it is.

I'll admit the title is a bit misleading.  When I say these are songs "you won't find elsewhere", I don't mean I synthesized them out of the ether.  They do actually exist.  They're just not the first 90s one-hit-wonders (those that even had a hit) that come to mind.

1. Hate Song by Fudge Tunnel


Grunge, sludge, noise.  It's like a collection of things I love without getting all poetic, using terms like "ugly melody" and "catharsis" and "raw emotive anti-shred something-or-other".  It's easy to see the influence on 90s metal acts to come, like Tool (shit, that intro/outro would be right at home on Undertow), more nu metal bands that came a couple years later.

2. Skip Steps 1 & 3 by Superchunk


Ah yes; the days when "alternative rock" didn't mean "what the fuck else do we call it".  Catchy-as-shit motif?  Check.  Fuzz?  Check.  Chick bassist?  Check.  In spite of the quality songwriting, this song still remains bouncy and fun in a way that only the 90s could offer.

3. My Pal the Tortoise by Thinking Fellers Union Local 282


Proto-Cake.
Actually, I like this more than Cake.
The band, not the food.
Cake (the food) is the best.
Cake (the band) is still good.

4. Break a Promise by Guv'ner


Around here, I realized that anyone who thinks the indie rock of today is a totally new/original thing miiiiggghhht just need a slapping.
Poorly organized thought.
Translation: This song is good, strangely made me feel like slapping a hipster.

5. Revolution Part 1 and 2 by Butthole Surfers


Okay, you may have heard of Butthole Surfers.  I love Butthole Surfers.  They're one of few (okay, many) bands that can make songs that where I'm going "what even is this" the entire time, and I still love it.  That's not very subjective.  I don't care.  It's Butthole Surfers.  Listen to it.

6. Tragic Carpet Ride by Polvo


Something about these dissonant riffs, man...  Grows on you like dick fungus before the song's even half over.  In a totally good way.  Assuming dick fungus is bad.

7. (You Must Fight to Live) On the Planet of the Apes by The Mummies


This is a song by a band comprised of a bunch of grown men that play dressed as mummies.  By which I mean they play music while wrapped in toilet paper (or maybe it's actual gauze; I'm sure they've used both).  If that alone isn't a reason to love it, I don't know what is.  Besides the fact that it's dirty, wicked (with a proper touch of silly) 90s garage-punk at its best.

To Be Continued!

Saturday, May 18, 2013

When I Need Some Sleep

Since I was little, I've had trouble sleeping.  Not regularly; I wouldn't call myself an insomniac.  Most days, I get to sleep just fine.  Maybe not as "just fine" as most people, but still.  Just fine.  Even on the "just fine" days though, I still find myself thinking about getting to sleep.  This is a huge pain in the ass; my ultimate bane; probably the root of why I sometimes suck at sleeping.

I understand that almost everyone has bouts of sleeplessness, from time to time.  It's not quite the same for me.  My Sleepless and Sleepwell periods last at least a week for the former, and thankfully about three for the latter.

I have a series of - I don't know what to call them - exercises? systems? protocol? processes? a series of somethings that I do to encourage sleep.  I get out of my headspace.  I stare at various objects or surfaces in the room, wrap my mind's eye around them, make myself be less aware of the various aches and grievances in my body at the moment.  I focus on my breathing.  I've had so much practice doing full-stomach-breathing or whatever it is (where you expand your stomach, not your chest) that I'm pretty sure I do it regularly now.  I try to control my imagination as much as possible, calling up dreamy images, rather than stories or events (real or imagined).

Sometimes these don't work.  Or they just take far longer, and I have so much on my mind that it's hard to put myself back in the world of dreams where none of that shit matters.  Before I developed these various methods, I had a few that involved getting out of bed, doing some things that would put my mind at ease.  Some of these didn't work.  Some of these I borrow from today.  Writing about what's bothering me, drinking some warm milk, masturbating.

There's one I was particularly fond of, even if it didn't actually help me sleep.  I'd get up.  Make my way blindly from my room (I hardly need to put my arms in front of me I know it so well).  Creep downstairs (floor sounds like a hellcat if you make a wrong step).  Turn on first-floor computer.  Listen to "I Need Some Sleep", by Eels.  Listen to it again.  Try (and fail, out of laziness rather than difficulty) to play it on guitar.  Listen to it one last time while looking through what few nostalgic photos I have.

There's something therapeutic, familiar, and all at once cathartic about Eels, this song in particular.  It may not  have really helped me sleep, but it's certainly put me in a better (if more melancholic) place, somewhere where it's easier to keep in mind that I'm not the only one who has this problem; I'm not the only sleepless one.

God damn you, characters of Shrek 2.  This was very nearly a totally serious post.

Thursday, May 16, 2013

Hey Look! A One-Hit-Wonder Wednesday That I Actually Remembered!

Kind of.  Cuz it's technically Thursday morning that I'm posting this, but meh.  Semantics.

I wanted this to be one of the first One-Hit-Wonder Wednesday posts, but circumstances just... I dunno, worked more in favor of... not that?  Oh screw you, I don't need to make excuses!  I yam who I yam, dammit.

I don't know when I first heard this song.  Had to be at least three years ago.  In any case, when I first heard it, the only thing I could think was "Holy shit, this has to be the most 90s thing I've ever heard."  The only way it could be more 90s is if LL Cool J took a verse and holy shit I would never stop listening to that.  Seriously, it sounds like if Matchbox 20 and REM had a baby baptized by Third Eye Blind.

Funny story: this song wasn't even written in the 90s.  The first version was recorded back in '89, then re-recorded for this band's somewhat-more-successful sophomore effort.  Yeah, the nineties were invented back in the 80's.

Well, even they didn't invent the 90s, for better or worse, this is the song that invented "adult alternative".  Either way, I think it's pretty great.  Ladies and gentlemen: "Hey Jealousy", by the Gin Blossoms.


Wednesday, May 15, 2013

A Song About Music

Hey y'all, here's a song!  It's about 90s music, and how I got into it.  With some metaphory stuff.  Turned out to be waaaayyyyy shorter than I thought, but I feel like if I bullshat a bunch more verses, it would just get repetitive.

Also, this whole process of recording and uploading this thing has been rife with technical difficulties, soooooo anything you don't like about it, chalk it up to that.


Since my singing voice is stupid-hard to understand (hey, I'm no Aretha Franklin), here's the lyrics.

It started at my school; the chick who looked like Slash
She played the drums to System of a Down
My branches grew from there

I came down with the sickness
But I was brought to life

Offspring, my skatepunk jams; a town that swallows lives
I'm not a fan of sand; a camp for suicides
Oh Stan, why you so mad
Just to try to understand

Jump ahead to school, do not pass GO
There was a Serbian boy who brought me to Nirvana
There's writing on the walls

Jimmy gave me my feelings
They're both inside this box

Our lady Alice of peace; her chains and garden jams
Marilyn's abyss; together ever since
And it stared back at me
And it stared lovingly

Now let's play Spot The Reference!

And by "let us", I mean you do that.

I don't wanna play with you.

That's right.  I heard the stories.

Very special thanks to Tyler Priest, without whom this project would not be possible!  He does music too and he does it better than me, so go check it out right nnaaooooooooo!

Saturday, May 11, 2013

FUCK ARGH BLAH

You heard me.  Fuck argh blah.  I said it and what are you gonna do about it.

So yeah.  Argh.  I forgot the tradition I'd so recently tried to start: One-Hit Wonder Wednesday.  Something so so simple: find a 90s one-hit wonder.  Ramble about it.  Post.  And somehow I managed to fail.  So instead, we're gonna have us a grand ol' One Hit Wonder Saturday.  Wow, that is depressingly uncatchy.

Speaking of depressing!  This here's a one-hit wonder I just recently discovered.  Or re-discovered, maybe. I feel like it's one of those songs that's just kinda there in your head from the get-go.  Like a latent gene for heart disease.  Seems kind of unfair to compare this song to heart disease; I actually quite like it (as much as it bleeds 90s post-grunge).  Jesus, I can't even say I like something without sounding like a twat.  I was in a car this evening, going to my friend's show, and this was on Q101, ahem, 'scuse me, Q87.7.  He claimed to recognize it, we tried to figure it out for a minute, eventually gave up somewhere between The Calling and Matchbox 20.  I marked the time and despite getting a reasonable buzz on and not having access to a computer for seven more hours (yeah I'm one of those rare non-smartphone-owning troglodytes), I managed to remember and look it up.  I didn't even have to write it down.  And that's the most impressive thing I've accomplished all week.

For those of you hankering for your latest fix of mood-rock, full of the pitfalls of youth and suicides and abortion and all that good stuff, ya came to the right place!


Forgive his hair.  Jesus does.  Actually, he probably doesn't.  Forgive it anyway.  Someone has to.

Thursday, May 9, 2013

What would your life be like without music?

Today (or when I started writing this... good chance this won't go up the same day), we had this big interview-fest in my class where everyone interviews everyone else.  It's a class about blogging (which is why I originally started this blog), so that's why that happened.  And I asked the above question!  "Above" meaning the title of this post.

Quick btdubs: Everyone here has a blog, and they're all awesome and you should read them and I'll post links to them!

Kim:
I pretty much always tie emotions and memories to music, it'll define any given moment more.  It's just... everywhere.  Like watching a movie without music would suck, it adds so much even when you don't really think about it.  Music helps me write, helps me be a more creative person.  Without it, I'd... I'd probably be pretty boring, almost unemotional.  I don't think I'd be a writer...  Probably something boring.  Like a lawyer.  Music helps me write, but it also helps me clear my head.  Like at the end of a really shitty day, you just wanna listen to music, you know?
Also, YouTube probably wouldn't exist.

Kim runs a romantic advice blog called Ruff Romance.  You know all those dating blogs out there that give scary-terrible advice about playing the opposite sex and encourage really unhealthy outlets for any problems you might have with your partners?  Hers is the complete opposite of that.  It's actually pretty awesome, like legit "couples should take note of this" kinda stuff.  Or forever-alones like me.  Boo hoo.
http://www.ruffromance.blogspot.com/

James Ragen:
...Well, I'd probably be a lot less poor and tattooed.  More successful. I would have studied a lot more.
You know, I played music for a long time, grew up listening to punk rock, stuff that was anti-authoritative, pro-drinking, pro-"being cool" [proceeds to nearly fall off chair].  I feel like that really informed my attitude in the coming years... independent, anarchistic.  I use music to describe things in my writing a lot.  I'm working on a collection of short stories now, called "Love Songs for Anarchists", with this punk rock backdrop to all these different moments.
My other big thing is hip-hop, the stuff I listen to to get me through work.  Punk rock and hip hop.  Those are my jams.  It's weird you know?  One's really super-nihilistic and the other's super-materialistic.
I dreamt of being a rock star in high school, did that whole thing for years.  You know, playing in bands, drinking too much, smoking too much weed, trying to drop out of college.  In fact, I dropped out of UIC to move to Minnesota to join a band that broke up the day I got there.
I'm a hopeless romantic.  Any lady I'm with, we have "our song".
I tie music to any moment of great change.

James here runs a booze blog that I contributed a post to!  Which is like half the reason I'm advertising it here.  Just kidding!  Mostly.  If you think anecdotes and articles about booze that aren't just "lol beer's great bro!" is something you'd like, check it out!  Even if it's not, check it out anyway.  Don't be a dick.
http://www.kissthebottle.net/
And right hurr's the post I contributed!
http://www.kissthebottle.net/2013/04/the-twenty-first-birthday-growing-up.html
As of recent, James also writes for Sorry for Partying!  Yes, it's exactly what it sounds like.  A whole website about partying.  I... I'll admit I kinda love it.  Un-ironically.  Check out his shit!
http://www.thes4p.com/

Taylor:
The earliest cognitive memory I have is of my dad singing these folks songs, whenever he was doing work around the house or even just walking around.  Now, whenever I do physical labor or chores, I still find myself subconsciously singing those same songs.  To me, music is what occupies that otherwise negative space in our brains.  This may come as a surprise to you, but I'm actually a very quiet person.  I read a lot, write a lot.  All very solitary pursuits.  I'm not really into punk or anything quite like that.
I grew up in working-class North England, a primarily Celtic area.  Dad was going from job to job, not much money to go around.  I was born in '89.  Most of the stereo equipment we had was very old, had all these brands that aren't even around anymore.  In fact, we didn't have a CD player.  We had a turntable.  We'd play Beatles, early Stones, Wings.  I didn't even get into any 90s music until the 90s were over.  I think  that's why I'm good at history, because so much of me came before I existed, if that makes any sense.

I fracking love history.  I just wish it weren't taught so goddamned boring...ly.  Boringly?  Oh, guess that's a word.  Why wouldn't it be?  Whatever, it's late.  Well thankfully, Taylor here knows how to teach history and make it awesome.  So culture yourself up, slacker, and peruse his blog!
http://taylorrockhill.wordpress.com/category/history/hashtag-history/

Beth:
I... can't really imagine that.  Like, any sound can theoretically turn into music.  That just... doesn't seem natural.
It would probably be quiet.  And I feel like I wouldn't remember things.  So I feel like I'd be dumber.  In fact, we'd probably all be dumber.  Like you know how some people play Mozart for infants?  There wouldn't be any of that.  Oh, and no one would dance.  Actually... would anyone have patterns in their heads?  Because auditory patterns are really dependent on how we order things in our own brains and vice versa.  So without music... no patterns.  No mating songs either.  So basically, what I'm saying is, no music, no carbon-based life.

Beth runs a reviewing blog.  Excuse me.  A blog of fake reviews.  It's...  I...
Just, here.  Look at it.  You'll thank me later.
http://www.opinionsfordummies1.blogspot.com/

Amy:
It would be really sad.  It's in pretty much every aspect of our lives.  In the shower, or when I'm writing, or commuting... all listening to music.  Like even when I'm not listening to it, I'm still listening for it, you know?  Like someone skates by you and you hear what's coming out of their headphones.  It's a little street-song.  In that way, I feel like I wouldn't be as observant.  Honestly, I wouldn't want to exist without it.
Music's always been a huge inspiration on my writing, the lyrics in particular.  There's this band I like - La Dispute.  The singer... he's tone-deaf.  There's no other way to put it.  But he's a fucking poet.  His lyrics are what got me into spoken word.  I still try to incorporate that style into my writing.
I feel like I wouldn't even be a writer without music.  To me, a song is already a story.  Some of the first writing I did was fanfiction about bands I liked.  It was... it was pretty horrible, stupid.  But fun, you know?  From there, I started writing my own stories.
I first really got into music my freshman year.  I was a little elitist about it.  I started out getting into a lot of folk music - Bright Eyes, Defiance Ohio, Street Light Manifesto.  Then I got into indie rock, and then I really found my own style of what I like.  Stuff like La Dispute and Defeater.

Amy here shares my love for music.  Okay, that sounded stupid.  Most people love music.  What I mean is, she loves music like I do, in a way that demands she write about it.  Holy moley, I can't word tonight.  Look, it's really good, lotta prose, lotta sweet jams, lotta great storytelling.  Just go check it out so I can stop being beaten into the floor by my exhaustion and the English language.
http://pitypartyparade.tumblr.com/

Megan:
I want to say "it would suck", but I just had this whole conversation rallying against people who just say "It sucks".
So often with writing, it's our challenge to find the right words for each emotion.  Over the years, I've realized that music is the emotion.  I can tell what I was feeling at any given moment by the music of that time.  I can tell by what destroyed mixtapes are lying around, scratched CDs.  They're like a documentation of my life, of how I became who I was.  Because I can remember certain songs and what they meant to me, I remember when I became politically active, breakups, when I was sad, etc.  You're blogging about 90s music, right?  I'll bet you really get to see who you were. [She was right.]
I think that's way more profound than "It would suck".
I'm 37 years old now.  If I were to yell back in time at myself at 20, I'd tell myself to keep really good journals.  To me, music's as good, if not better a way to do that.
There's a quote by Toni Morrison that I've always loved.  "You'll never remember what someone did, you'll never remember what someone said.  You'll always remember how they made you feel."  Music is the key to that idea.  Someone walks in the door, and you hear the soundtrack of them entering that space.

Megan... actually doesn't have a blog, that I know of.  But her husband runs one, thisiscolossal.com, and it's fucking rad.  It's about art, and science, and crazy wonderful shit that's bigger than us that reminds us why we're here on this planet in the goddamned first place and hnnnnnnggggghhh
here.
http://www.thisiscolossal.com/

Brian:
...I can't imagine.  It's the reason I left Florida, why I moved here.  I was doing both music and writing there, but I'd gotten to a point where I felt that I couldn't get to the next level without an external push from classes, so I signed up at Columbia.  It's opened so many new realities, so many wonderful, or at least interesting adventures.  And misadventures.
I'd have a more straightforward life path - birth, grow up, get a job, wife and kids, house, dog, death - and I might be okay, but I'll always have the lingering feeling that something's missing.  Fairly recently, I realized music's been the big inspiration in my life.  Writing's great too, but if I had to pin it down to one, it's been music.  Even when I write, even when I try not to involve music in it somehow, music finds it's way in.  It's inescapable.  It's everywhere, you know?  Like you're walking around Walgreens and you hear music going. Why is there music in Walgreens?
The similarities between the two are striking, composing a song or writing a story.  Like in a song - why are you making sound here rather than there?  With music, it's just as much about where you don't put sound as what sound you do put and where.  Or with making a film - where do you put the camera and why?  How do I entertain myself during this part, make it fun to play, and then rein it in, turn it into something good?

If you couldn't figure out from the above interview, Brian's a writer as well as a musician.  He posts a lot of his writings on this here blog:
http://suededenimfiresale.wordpress.com/
and you should go read all of it.  Like do it.  Or I'll smack you.  You won't bleed, you won't even bruise, but I'll smack you.  Open-palm.  It'll be loud and it'll sting and you'll feel like you've been smacked by a particularly reproachful woman.
Smacking aside, go read it.

Interview with Joe Meno, Part 3

Welcome welcome, to the third and final portion of this fantabulous thing called an interview!
If you can't tell, I'm rather sick of introductions.  Read the damn post.


Me: So, besides the ages, what did you feel really changed about the scene in Chicago from when you started playing to when you stopped?

Joe: In the mid-90s in Chicago, there was this emphasis more on art rock or math rock or post-rock bands, like The Sea and Cake, Tortoise, Don Caballero, bands that were pretty instrument-based, almost jazz-influenced.  The idea of being "rock", like a rock band, whether that was garage rock or indie rock – for a couple years, that fell away.  So at a lot of venues, there was like - I don’t wanna say prog-rock or whatever, but these people were awesome at their instruments - there were no lyrics, mostly instrumental music, bands that had more of an abstract sound… and that was real interesting for a while.  And then in the late 90s, there was this revival or resurgence of garage rock that really took off.  There was this great explosion of bands like Baseball Furies, and Brian [Costello’s] band the Functional Blackouts, and a couple bands that I played in.  Then this real interesting scene started developing - and I think I still see them online - this magazine Horizontal Action, and there were all these different garage-rock-oriented festivals.  Suddenly, there was the return of, “Okay, it’s cool again to be in a rock band, and have songs with lyrics, and to honor the music you had grown up listening to," like The Who, or The Rolling Stones, or The Beatles.  And then in the late 90s, early 2000s, there was a kind of similar resurgence on a national level, bands like The Hives, and The Strokes, and The White Stripes, bands that were getting national attention that were returning to a more familiar rock-song structure and sound, and it echoed what was already going on here.  It was wonderful, because that’s the music I always loved, you know?  I like rock music.  Not to say I’m not a huge jazz fan – it’s just a different kind of experience.

Me: It’s more familiar.

Joe: It is, and I mean, Chicago has one of the greatest avant-garde jazz scenes in the world, and we have these great people, like Ken Vandermark, and a number of other amazing soloists and avant-garde players, but going to see a jazz show, it’s kinda this thing up here [hovers his hands around his cranium] and it feels like you listen with your head, and not with your chest and your balls – like when you see a great rock show and your whole body’s involved.

Me: I’ve always heard the word “cerebral” to describe certain bands like that.

Joe: And it is!  And it’s also clear that Vandermark grew up listening to Black Sabbath, and it feels like “Oh shit, this is as intense.”  It still has those rock elements, even though it is avant-garde jazz.

Places like the Empty Bottle and Lounge Acts hosted these different nights to promote these different kinds of sound.  And they still do!  Well, the Hideout kinda took over when Lounge Acts closed.  And then there was the “return to rock” thing.  Somewhere in there too, there was this blossoming indie rock scene, which was a little more reserved or restrained.  Bands that were echoing the Pixies, or Pavement, or the Smiths.  There were bands like the Scotland Yard Gospel Choir and…  I’m trying to think of who else fits that bill, that incorporated stuff from folk and rock, that had maybe a less direct garage-rock/punk sound, but still didn’t feel like mainstream rock.  You could go see a show, and there was this loud punk-kinda garage band, here’s this band that feels more indie rock, here’s this other band that has some weird instrumentation.  Venues like that showed the breath of all the different music that was being produced at that time.  You feel really luck to be able to go see a show that has that many different kinds of music being played.

Me: When you were first starting out, back in the early 90s, what bands that you’d seen or played with did you look up to?  Like, who made you want to play music?

Joe: There are a few bands here in Chicago, they were bands I felt were so tremendous that I didn’t associate them with Chicago, like “Oh man, I didn’t even know they were from here”, bands like the Jesus Lizard-

Me: Oh shit.

Joe: Well there you go!  I saw a couple shows at the Metro, and they were just completely electrifying…  They were bands like that, that made you think “This is why I live in Chicago, because people like that are making music.”  You almost felt this weird sense of ownership.  Bands like that, and the Mids – I think they broke up by ’95 or ’96.  That was one of the big bands.  And there were bands like Shellac, Steve Albini’s band, who’d put out these really formidable, really interesting records.  Jay Ryan’s band, Dianogah, which was another more instrumental, but really really interesting band that starting putting on shows in the mid-90s, and I think every so often they continue to play.  That was more noise rock or aggressive rock stuff.  And then there were bands like Andrew Bird, who was doing this quasi-jazz rock folk stuff that had interesting instrumentation – like instead of there being a lead guitar set up, there’d be someone playing a violin.  To this day, Andrew Bird is widely recognized, still lives in town.  Then there's like, Jeff Tweedy of Wilco.  Bands like that in the mid-90s that you felt were almost ambassadors.  And that’s not even to mention by the mid-90s/late-90s, Chicago hip-hop started to take off, performers like Kanye West and Lupe Fiasco.  Those guys suddenly put Chicago on the map in a huge way, so you felt like you’re part of this city that’s on the forefront of some really interesting music.

Me: I guess we’ll move on to the final question: the hackneyed interview question.  If you had to tell your younger musician self something, what would it be?

Joe: I don’t know if I’ve ever heard that question.  I don’t think it’s hackneyed at all!

Well, it’s like I said earlier, that playing in bands…  There’s just all these interesting implications I wouldn't have been aware of at the time, like helping you understand your relationship to an audience, your idea of promotion, and marketing, and touring.  Even when I’m writing a short story, I don’t feel like it’s done until I can read it to an audience, and that’s one of the ways I figure out if it’s working or not; you read it and you’re like “Ooh…  This part… that didn't work,” or “This part, people laughed.”

When you’re in a band, you’re constantly doing stuff.  You’re writing songs, you record a record, you have to make flyers, you have to rent a van or save up and buy one, maybe you play a bunch of shows, and you’re constantly having to convince your friends and strangers to come to your shows and promote yourself in a fairly aggressive way, right?  If you book a show at a venue and no one shows up, they’re not gonna have you back.  So this pursuit of making stuff and getting in the habit of finding a way to get it out in the world, whether it’s making a record or making a flyer, getting posters made, booking shows, that habit that I did over and over and over again in my twenties, it really helped me as a writer, cuz I still do that stuff, I still am having constantly to promote work.

I had two books come out with these big corporate presses, my first two novels, and they had a certain way of promoting their books, which meant they just kinda sent them out to reviewers and hoped people reviewed them – and I had grown up playing in all these bands, and I was like “Why not go on tour?  I could do it for cheap, I could sleep on strangers’ floors – I’ll sell books out of the car.” and they’d never had someone do that.  This was what I’d been doing.  Third book came out.  I worked with a publisher that was really interested in that idea, and the book was a huge success because I was able to get out and tour, basically adapt what I’d been doing, what I knew already worked.  If I do a reading in Portland, I need to get like, two people from Portland on the bill, cuz if I show up and I only know ten people in Portland, there’s only gonna be ten people in the bookstore.  But if I invite another writer, or some musician, then we’ll have forty people.  That was a totally foreign concept to a lot of these publicists, and they were actually afraid to do that.  Over the last ten years, that’s exactly what I’ve been doing, and it’s been really successful.  And it’s actually more enjoyable for me to go to Portland, do a reading, hear someone else read, hear a band.  It’s more of a night, more of an occasion, versus me just like, showing up.  So there were all these really important things that I was learning about what it means to be an artist that I thought was just part of being in a band, and that was really helpful.

And a step removed from that – having grown up in the 70s and 80s and playing in bands – not seriously, but in a committed way – in the 90s, I learned the reliance of independence, because a lot of the bands that I admired were bands on small labels, like Dischord or Touch-and-Go, and those were basically labels run out of someone’s house.  They didn't have money, but they had this great reputation and dignity.  If Ian MacKaye came out with a record by some band, I’d go buy it, just because I trusted him as a label-owner.  That idea of DIY, not buying into this corporization of art, that had a huge impact on my writing as well, because I feel like the freedom to make books that I’m interested in reading, not so concerned with whether this is gonna be a big hit…  The books that I write are kinda influenced by that same spirit.  As an indie musician, your goal isn't to get on the radio or sell a billion copies; it’s to make a real interesting record.  That same spirit is a huge part of what I do.  A couple weeks ago, I did this reading at the Metro as part of Story Week, and I've read there a couple times before, but it was really momentous for me, because I grew up going to shows there.  I've done readings now at a lot of these music venues that I had once played at in bands, so in some ways it’s like I never really stopped.  In a lot of ways, I'm still engaged in that world.  Literature isn't just for people who go to college, or go to bookstores.  Through my experiences, I've learned that it’s bigger and there’s these interesting connections between music and literature, literature and art… things that musicians sometimes take for granted.  And I feel really grateful for that.

Wednesday, May 8, 2013

Interview with Joe Meno, Part 2

Last time on "Stupid and Contagious"!

Joe: Does this have anything to do with your questions?

So what do you think, dear reader?  Did this have anything to do with my questions????
Find out... TODAAYYYyYyYyYyYyyy!!!


Me: Oh, totally!  Actually, you kind of… answered half of them right there.  So you stopped playing music when, like late 90s?

Joe: It was 2003.  No, I’m sorry, 2004,  because it was literally when I turned 30.

Me: Was that a thing like “when I turn 30, I’m done with the whole band thing”?

Joe: I started playing bands when I was like, fourteen, and we played at things like battle of the bands, fests, and some actual venues, and because we were so young there were very few venues that fifteen- or sixteen-year-olds could play.  There was this place out in the suburbs, The Thirsty Whale...  I think now, it's a service station.  It was mostly a metal or hard rock venue, like if you were one of those, that was the only place you could play.  That was my first experience with performance, and I did that all throughout high school, throughout college, and even though, like you said, I never had any illusions like “Oh, I’m gonna make a living off this, I’m gonna be on MTV" [if this sounds unfamiliar, this was part of our preliminary conversation, before we got down to actual interviewy things] – when MTV played videos.  It was like if you grow up with a sport or growing up with some mode of expression or release; you do it, it’s therapeutic, and it’s social.  I really like the idea that music’s social, which is very different from fiction writing.  I really miss that element of “Ha!  I have this idea” and another person comes with their own thing, and together makes a better, more interesting idea.  I do love dramatic writing, for stage, and that has a similar vibe, where a director comes in, and you write the script, and there’s actors, and it feels familiar, but what’s different is – I just talked about this in my class last night with my grad students – playing music, for me at least, is this non-intellectual process.  It’s more with your body.  It’s a way of expressing things without necessarily having to put words to it.  Even if you have a song where there’s lyrics, it feels much more abstract, less literal, less intellectual…  It’s often out-and-out just a lot more fun, whereas when you write a book, it might be fun – sometimes it’s not-

Me: Should be fun.

Joe: Yeah!  It is fun, most of the time, but sometimes it’s really hard and frustrating, and because I have my career wrapped up in it, it’s not something you do for pure amusement, for pure joy, and I miss that.  I also miss just making noise, like the element of “we’re gonna get together, have some beers, make some actual sound that’s bigger than us”.  It being this physical, non-intellectual expression.... I really miss that.  I still go see a lot of shows as often as I can, but that act of spending a couple hours each week doing something that has no career goal or pursuit, where you’re just doing it to be around your friends and have fun, I kinda miss that.

I’m 39.  It feels like the things that I do now, even if they’re fun, all come back to either my career as a writer, or my family.  It’s rare where I go do something totally unrelated.  I mean, I exercise and things like that, but there’s something about music and the age that I started playing it, I felt like it was its own pursuit.  So I miss that.

So what happened was that I’d been in these bands, we’d toured, there was this great venue, and every so often they’ll still have shows maybe a few times a year – the Fireside Bowl, over on Fullerton.  And in the mid-90s all the way to like 2004, 2005, maybe fifteen years or so, it was kind of the best all-ages venue.  They typically had a lot of punk or post-punk or indie rock shows, and they had great touring/national acts play there.  And it’s a bowling alley, right?  There was this little tiny stage, the sound was decent, but the thing that was great about it was a lot of young people came, cuz it was mostly all-ages shows.  There was this general sense of enjoyment and acceptance and excitement.

Sometimes in shows in Chicago, there’s a feeling of distance or snobbery, where the audience just kinda sits there in this kind of Chicago rock pose.

[Here, Joe crosses his arms, tilts his chin down and glares at the theoretical stage (my forehead), imperceptibly bobbing his neck.  Yeah, that’s pretty accurate.]

Me: I usually try to avoid those kinds of shows.

Joe: Well sometimes they’re great shows but a lot of the times, people literally don’t know what to do with their bodies as they’re listening, so they cross their arms and it feels like they’re kinda disengaged.  The shows at the Fireside Bowl were pretty unique.  And there’s a bar or club like that in every big city where it’s this all-ages-show club and people go there when they’re like fifteen or sixteen and they have these seminal life-changing rock-and-roll experiences there, and that was that place for that particular time period.  I saw so many bands, and the bands I was in, we played that venue so many different times…  It felt like a clubhouse.  You know what I mean?  It felt like this great place of safety and comfort even though they’re putting on these really great bands, some avant-garde kinda music.

I’d played at those venues all throughout my twenties, and the older I got, the more I realized the people coming to shows were getting younger and younger.  For a while, I was like, “These are like babies!” but I was just getting older.

I had started playing music just for fun, and this great almost therapeutic quality for me, like I started playing when my parents were getting a divorce.  It was just some great release.  By the time I'd turned 30, I’d started writing pretty seriously, and I’d had a couple books come out, I had toured, and that pursuit of writing had kinda taken over.  I was doing all these things as a writer that I always enjoyed doing as a musician, like touring or performing.  Also, there was something about playing these all-ages shows with like fourteen-year-olds or fifteen-year-olds that felt kinda odd or almost inappropriate, like I was holding onto this thing that had been really important at one time in my life, and it was really okay to let it go.  So that’s when I’d stopped.  I’d also promised my girlfriend, who became my wife at the time, that because I was touring with the books and touring with the bands, that when I turned thirty I’d kinda back off the music, cuz it was just for fun.

The only thing that I miss, like I said, is the non-verbal expression of people being in a room and making great noise.  I have it with my kids sometimes, where they just yell and bang stuff, and that feels… familiar, but it’s not quite the same.

Me: It’s a little more destructive.

Joe: Yeah, stuff gets broken and then you’re like, “Ohhh, I gotta clean that up.”  But it’s that release…  You don’t even have to play a show to feel it, even if you’re just playing or practicing or whatever, there’s this real emotional release that happens.  I have that in other ways, but it’s not as… hm…

Me: It’s like another outlet.

Joe: It is!  An outlet where you’re not hoping to get money or fame from it, and that’s real important, I think.  So that’s when I stopped playing, and that’s also when I started doing tons of music journalism, because I’d had all these relationships with these different bands.

Me: You started doing that when you stopped playing?

Joe: Yes, because I’d established all these different relationships with bookers, and venue owners, and bands, like I knew all these bands cuz I’d played with them, so I started working as a contributing editor at Punk Planet, and I was in this great position, cuz I never ran out of bands to write about.  There were bands that I thought were great that we had played with that deserved national attention, so this was a way to take what I most loved, this music, and actually give an opportunity for someone else to hear about these bands that I was enjoying.

Once you start writing music journalism, your mailbox is never empty.  I started getting ten CDs a day, and I would just have so much music, it was great.  For seven or eight years, I just didn’t buy music, I just kept getting tons and tons of promos.  It was awesome.  I got turned on to so many great bands like that.

And going and seeing shows, it still echoes that kind of familiarity of playing in a band, it still does provide a kind of release in that way.

End of today's session!  We moved on to more great topics from there, but this post is already long enough soooooo I'll leave the next great slab of awesome for later.  'Til next time!

Monday, May 6, 2013

Interview with Joe Meno, Part 1

Yeah yeah, no punny title this time.  Get over it.

Not long ago, I interviewed an actual 90s kid (like someone who was a teenager in the 90s): longtime musician, Columbia College fiction writing teacher, author of Hairstyles of the Damned, Demons in the SpringOffice Girl and more, Joe Meno.  I got a full half hour and several pages of strong material from this interview, so, not to bog you down with too much of an awesome thing at once, I'm gonna post this in, oh, three parts.  Maybe four.  Maybe more if you're good.  I see you back there.  Little troublemaker you.

So uh... how do real music journalists do this?  Some kind of dramatic narrative introduction, right?  Well, I walked into the Fiction office at Columbia College, some stuff happened, then the interview started.

We shot the shit for a minute or so.  Joe asked about some of my own playing experience, I gave as spruced an account I could manage of my sordid experiences.  Now here's the part you actually want to read.


Meno: I think it’s funny, because when I went to grad school here mid-to-late 90s, there were a lot of fiction writers here that were also playing music.  Actually, I came into fiction writing through music.  Starting in high school, I was playing in bands – awful, awful metal bands – and that’s how I first started writing stuff, like awful HG Wells-inspired metal songs that became an entry point into writing really bad poetry, and then that became really not-so-good stories, and it was somehow… incremental?  It’s funny, what I do with fiction writing, like all my novels as I’m putting them together, I’m trying to figure out “what’s the style, what’s the sound, the tone?”

Me: So it’s almost like putting an album together?

Meno: It is, especially with novels.  I have this one, Hairstyles of the Damned, it’s about growing up in the early 90s, and there’s this kid, he’s like sixteen, who gets turned on to some early punk music and it shows the effects that it has on him.  This last novel I had, a big family novel, it was totally my interpretation of the White Album.  I wanted it to be big and expansive and have all these different voices.  When I’m trying to organize a big project like a play or a novel, I go to music.  It feels less like cheating, because it’s not another writer, it’s not another novelist.  It’s a lot more abstract.  I’d grown up in bands, played in a bunch of bands in my twenties, and then I finally stopped playing when I turned thirty.  I have kids now, but I’ll still sometimes take the guitar out and they’ll run away, cuz they don’t wanna hear it.  It’s still a huge part of what I do, still has so much to do with how I construct things.  Those songs... they're the first things that I built.

In my twenties, I was in a band and we toured a bunch…  And the idea of the tour as a way to promote your work has been huge for me as a writer because I do basically the same thing.  Instead of going to a club, I go to a bookstore; instead of playing at twelve o’clock or one o’clock, you do your thing at seven – so I use the same principles.  I would never go to a town and try to read by myself.  I always look for another writer or even some band or another to put a show together with, cuz if I bring twenty people and they bring twenty people, then you have forty people instead of just your twenty people.

Even just the idea of a performance: if I do a reading, it’s the same thing.  You get up on stage, you’ve built this thing and you put it out in front of a crowd, which is exactly what I did playing in bands.  I feel like it gave me this great training, where you learn to get past certain things.  Not to say you don’t get nervous, but this is part of what you do.  You don’t write a song or whatever and keep it to yourself; you go play it.  I feel like it’s really informed the performative aspects of what I do.

…Does this have anything to do with your questions?

To be continued!

Spoiler: It totally did.

Sorry if that's not too much this time, folks.  Next chunk's way bigger, just the right length.  By tagging this one onto that one, it'd just be whopper and...  Oh calm yo tits, I'll do what I want.  Stay tuned for more Meno.