Farewell History

d.auge reminded me of a bit of history behind the forming of Farewell Scalar. I thought it might be worth sharing as the two of us continue to debate whose idea it was to actually form "a real band."

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2/4 of the original Diametric Correlator: 2005

Eddie Dirtnap

In 2005, d. had make-shifted part of his home into a fairly decent recording studio. The two of us, along with friends Eddie Dirtnap and Eric Wolfram got together one fall afternoon and recorded a few droney improvs. The next time I saw d., he handed me a CD-R with the words "Diametric Correlator" written in squiggly Sharpie. Years later, these five songs were added to the Stir Up Bandcamp page as a self-titled ep (which you can download here) with a cover image featuring Eddie passed out in d.'s basement, wearing what we called "the Whiskey Wizard" hat and holding a drumstick like a wand. 

the Whiskey Wizard

In July, 2006, for my college graduation party, d. and I organized a jam session in my parents' garage. d. and I again disagree on who came up with the idea to learn a few simple cover songs. The trend seems to be for me to want to put d. in the driver's seat for any inciting incidents in the story of Farewell Scalar. I do know I came up with a list including songs by The Dandy Warhols, Brian Eno, My Bloody Valentine, and The Jesus and Mary Chain and d. augmented that list with some Pavement, Violent Femmes, and Silver Jews. We rehearsed the songs on guitar once, wrote out bass tabs for whoever wanted to join in, and set up the drum kit for whoever wanted to figure it out.

Friends who have appeared all over Stir Up recordings--Eddie Dirtnap (Diametric Correlator, Universal Chickenhawk, $35 Sound); Dr. Kamikaze (Diametric Correlator, $35 Sound, Complete Audio Destruct); Elliott (Melkbox); David Jensen (The Literacy Program, Complete Audio Destruct); Lauren Svacina (The Literacy Program, solo)--took a turn on a song or improv, much tequila was drank, and, I think, a grand time was had by all.

L-R: me, Eddie Dirtnap, d.auge, Elliott

d.auge's then girlfriend, Stacey designed this amazing cling along with a t-shirt for me to wear in honor of the celebration. She also videotaped the entire drunken mess.

Now, it wasn't long after this that I remember d. asking me to form a "really real band." d. recalls me wanting to push things forward. The name was certainly d.'s as evidenced by the fact that he knows what it means and I kinda sorta really don't at all.

d. says we formed to play a fundraiser for the soon-to be-defunct Undercurrents section of the Riverwest Currents newspaper for which I was, at the time, a staff writer. I do know I brought the fundraiser to his attention and that it would become our first show. And I remember trying out a drummer and then disliking the drummer and having to back out of one fundraiser show before recommitting to the second, later fundraiser once we had Corey in place. If d. and I had a band by the time I became aware of Undercurrents likely demise and the earlier backed-out-of fundraiser, I'm not so sure. 

poster with red augments by d.

Since then, Scalar has broken up, d. has turned the make-shift recording studio into a pretty damn fancy recording studio called Sound Encampment, Scalar has continued to finalize old projects, and Diametric Correlator has become a beast of d.'s burden (a sort of catch all for recordings gathered from impromptu Sound Encampment sessions) where I only infrequently show up.

This is the new (old) stuff. Available for download/listening MARCH 30.

I'm not even entirely sure if d. and I began collaboratively writing songs in 2006 and then decided to form a band or vice versa. I'd tend to believe the earlier as we had a set of at least seven originals at the Undercurrents benefit. I likely was the one to suggest writing together even if I had no intended results for the music. I liked some things d. had written on his own and his jangly, experimental pop sensibilities. 

I suppose the point is this: memory fails, so good thing we recorded just about everything we possibly could.

Hello, Farewell Scalar

In 2006, my friend *d.auge asked me to form a band. Farewell Scalar quickly found a bass player, struggled to find a drummer, played a handful of gigs, and called it quits during my first semester of grad school after having moved two hours south to Chicago, which I think was a letdown to d. As time has passed, it's become so for me.

Fortunately, it was right around the time Scalar formed when d. began amassing recording equipment. We wrote most songs collaboratively, and we wrote quickly. And as we did so, we recorded what we came up with. Working like that didn't always produce gold, but what it did produce always felt fun, fresh, and energetic. 

So when we began discussing recording an album, we were looking for ways to promote it (MySpace had done a lot of the work gathering those who might be interested in the type of music we were making--mostly lo-fi, Pavement-esque indie pop). d. came up with the idea of writing 30 songs for the first 30 fans to pre-order the album. We called the project The 30. And we went to work.

Cactus Club, Milwaukee WI, May 2007: d.auge and me

But, as I mentioned, grad school happened. Chicago happened, with all of it's cheap concerts and comedy shows and bars and cute girls and new people to collaborate with. So hours--days--worth of The 30 recordings went unfinished (a missing vocal here, a missing bassline there). Beyond that, I found excuse after excuse not to come up to Milwaukee to work on the album proper (although bits and pieces of that managed to get recorded too).

I had become too busy for Farewell Scalar. Or I thought I had. Or maybe I had always thought I had been too busy. Listening back to the sessions for The 30, you can hear hints that I might think I'm better than this band picked up by the mics between takes. Following a performance I obviously didn't approve of, I'll say something along the lines of, "Well that's gonna be some sucker's song. Sorry," pitying whichever fan was going to receive the free track. At another point, about an hour and half into a recording, we begin a new song only to have me bring it to a halt to ask if d. "has to play every song with your fucking wah pedal turned on?" I was 24. I thought I was a good guitar player and a better songwriter. I was a self-important shit.

What's funny is I remember having a great time working on The 30. I just didn't show it. Maybe subconsciously I didn't want to give any weight to what we were doing. I was about to go to grad school. I was about to get a real girlfriend (or at least a girlfriend who refused to add me on Myspace but insisted I add her cat's page, most likely because she didn't want anyone to know about me because I wasn't actually her boyfriend but the guy she was cheating on her boyfriend with). Maybe she would be my future wife. And I was going to get a real job. Or at least prepare to become the type of person who could get a real job. I was in no place to put any serious focus or effort into a silly band.

Stonefly Brewery, Milwaukee WI, April 2007: Corey, the drummer. Although he doesn't drum on any of The 30 sessions, so there's little else to add about him in this piece. Even so, I will add, he had a good sense of humor.

Five years later in 2011, I was about a year into trying to upload any old material I had collected under the Stir Up Your Grey Matter banner to a then new Stir Up Bandcamp site. The 30 came to mind. I began to record those missing basslines etc. and waited for d. to record his missing vocals. This time around, it was d. who had become too busy for Farewell Scalar. And so, again, the recordings sat and waited.

Now, it's 2016, and I don't know what's changed, but The 30 is finally being finished and soon will be available on the Bandcamp page. I'm married and have a step-daughter and that real, grown-up job grad school kind of mostly didn't prepare me for. I have less time than ever, but somehow more for finally getting this thing finalized. d. is, as far as I can tell, pretty much same as he ever was, but now somehow too has been able to scrounge together time to return to this now decade old project that was meant to be a quickly pulled together promotion for a band that was going to move on to more serious things.

Stonefly Brewery, Milwaukee WI, April 2007: d.auge and a tiny bit of bassplayer Jim, who wrote some great basslines, and was kind and always generous with a smile and homemade guitar pedals, but also does not appear on The 30 sessions.

The only obvious reason for this (other than the fact that I hate leaving things unfinished) is tied directly to the reason I was so flippant and quick to agitation while doing the original recording. Which, itself, ties directly to the type of person I became when I drank whiskey in college--the kind who was quick to leap from utter silliness to mocking cruelty because, in that state of mind they seemed very much the same. Both extremes felt warm and comforting and put me in a space where I at least believed I was witty and fearless and where I (again, at least believed) I was pushing myself as much as I was others' buttons. And in that state of mind, both extremes seemed very, very pleasurable. I could act like a self-important shit, but what was maybe worse than even that was that I kind of believed people wanted me to act that way. 

I can't speak for d.'s recent availability to finish this project, but I think there's a bit of that silly, old, cruel whiskey drinker in him as well. The collaborative work between the two of us always created a similar juxtaposition where the work felt frivolous but also important and where I could be cavalier about the process while still taking pride in it (at least enough pride to get up in arms over a stupid wah pedal). The self-important 24-year-old shit, d.'s earnestness, the clashing egos, the willingness to try things and experiment, everything, is what made Farewell Scalar as fun as it was. Listening to the completed songs ten years later, I'm proud of them for what they are, not dismissive of them for what they aren't.

All in all, The 30 turned into about 60 completed songs, double the intended goal. All of which we'll be putting up on the site (complimented by about a dozen actual album demos and improvs, a few of which actually even include Jim and Corey!). And each of them, including those I wouldn't call my favorites, has its charm and it's little moments of swagger and wit and silliness and even sometimes seriousness, with some songs as short as a minute straddling a lilting and jangly wistfulness and a pummeling aggressive battery.

With our audience dwindled due to MySpace becoming a post-apocalyptic wasteland of a website, I doubt very many people will find their way to these songs. But it's been worth going through the process that The 30 probably needed to go through not only for it to be complete but for me to fully enjoy it. At least I can get it off my to-do list.

Archive Vol. I will be available for download March 30 at stirupyourgreymatter.bandcamp.com.

In the meantime, you can listen to/download some other Scalar tracks  here and Archive samples here.

*UPDATE (3/22/16): d.auge says the band was actually my idea. If this is true (I'm questing my memory now), this would make me an even bigger shit than stated in the above post.

Chats with Steve: Kraft Awesome Straws

This is Chats with Steve, in which I copy and paste inane conversations I've had on Gmail chat with my buddy Steve.

me: I'm gonna visit my parents this weekend.

steve: sounds like a blast, dude

me: so blast
12:38 PM what's your blast today?
12:39 PM that's like the slogan for a commercial with kids riding skateboards with helmets and it's like a hi-c juicebox or something

steve: Kraft Awesome Straws -- What's Your Blast?

me: they are just things filled with cheese spread you suck out of individual straws

steve: yeah, they come in flavors like Mondo Cheddar

me: for a limited time: Extreme Brie

steve: Monterrey Jacked Up

me: Shutup! Swiss

steve: hahaha what's your blast

 steve: they'd have pop culture icons-themed products

 me: like No Doubt Nacho
12:50 PM: with gwen stefani on the straw

steve: yeah, and no doubt tours in support of the product, just replacing the lyrics of their old songs.
12:52 PM but none of it makes any sense. "i'm walking in an awesome straw. so leave a message and i'll call you back."

me: "This straw is so cheesy/C-H-E-E-S-Y!" 

I know that's solo Gwen, btw. I'm no fool.

steve: What's your blast?

me: we should do a radio commercial for these

steve: definitely

 me: Awesome Straws. What's YOUR Blast?

 steve: Bow Dunna Dunna Dun -- Awesome Straws. Wave of the Future. Suck Cheese in your Face!

Live-Tweeting the First Snowfall of the Season

Last month I live-tweeted the first snowfall of the year on Knee-Jerk Magazine's Twitter as if it were something that, you know, someone would actually live-tweet.

And no one cared. But I still think it was funny. So I'm archiving it here. Enjoy! Or, I guess, don't.

Join us as we livetweet the Midwest snow today. Did you see that flake trip on its way to the ground? Yikes. Pre-party a little too hard?

— Knee-Jerk (@KneeJerkMag) November 19, 2014

#livetweetingsnow OMG. We totally hate-watched that black ice take that SUV out!

— Knee-Jerk (@KneeJerkMag) November 19, 2014

#livetweetingsnow This just in: HBO has renewed snowfall to premier early in 2015!

— Knee-Jerk (@KneeJerkMag) November 19, 2014

#livetweetingsnow Ellen's photo of snow has broken. the. INTERNETS! *photocredit: Ellen Degeneres pic.twitter.com/7Yls75VA3I

— Knee-Jerk (@KneeJerkMag) November 19, 2014

#livetweetingsnow Cosby cancels appearance to present lifetime achievement award to snow for remarkable multiple-millennium spanning career

— Knee-Jerk (@KneeJerkMag) November 19, 2014

#livetweetingsnow Why aren't flurries ever considered for Best Snowfall? It's always just a slew of boring blizzards. #genrebiases

— Knee-Jerk (@KneeJerkMag) November 19, 2014

#livetweetingsnow Just astounded by Sleet's startling transformation in its portrayal of Depth Hoar this year.

— Knee-Jerk (@KneeJerkMag) November 19, 2014

John Constantine, Hellblazer

So Halloween is long past, but watching Rudolph and Frosty this last weekend, no images of sugarplums were dancing in my head. Just death and cigarettes. 

So I started penciling and then inked my current comics binge read, the Hellblazer himself, John Constantine (which is also a pretty fun NBC show that's on the bubble if you need a TV-cause to get behind). 

Hopefully, this will be the start of some more inking projects. No real goal in mind other than stretching my drafting legs a bit, creating some interesting images, and having a ton of fun while doing so. I'm already seeing a bunch of problems with this piece I would like to fix, so hopefully things will get more consistent as I get back into it.

Chats with Steve

This is Chats with Steve, in which I copy and paste inane conversations I've had on Gmail chat with my buddy Steve.

Casey Bye: king crimson is putting out a live album jan 13th. how happy are you?

steve tartaglione: zzzzzzzzz

don't care

tell me when wham reunites

Casey Bye: they just did

in my garage

steve tartaglione: i read "in my garbage" which is way better

Out of All Doors

Oh, hi there, Blog. I haven't seen you since you stood me up at that One Direction concert this past summer. Well I'm over it. I wanna make this work.

But mostly I wanted a venue to spread the word about a new podcast I'm involved in called Out of All Doors. It's hosted by and was created by my friend Adam Drent (who's Mispronouncer album I worked on earlier this year). Basically, it's a fun little piece of absurdity that pretends to be about people who love the outdoors, but ends up going all sorts of directions. I contributed the opening theme, most of the interstitial music, a theme for a segment called "Squall Takes the Bait," and a cheesy new-agey bit for the closing visualization activity in each episode. So far, Adam's up to three episodes, and starting with this one I'm contributing some segment material as well (my little bit starts at the 60 min. mark if you were curious). My fellow Knee-Jerker and Converstaions with Stever, Steve contributes the Harrison bird watching segment which is hilarious in how heartbreakingly sad it is.

Each episode has been better than the last, but come on there's only three so far, so listen to them all, why doncha. They're available on iTunes, which I know you have, so just download it already. Then subscribe, maybe write a review, and stay tuned next month for another ridiculous episode of Out of All Doors.

But for realz, thanks for listening if you do.

Chats with Steve: On the Anniversary of Michael Jackson's Passing

casey: my coworker just walked by in a hurry, saying to himself, "Gotta get me out to my car to see if I have a Michael Jackson cd. It's the anniversary."

steve: haha

me: he died the day we were flying to Italy or our first day there?

steve: he died the day we landed, i believe

we left the US and therefore killed michael jackson

me: he missed us

so so much

so he died

steve: that's my understanding of the events, yes

me: maybe he missed us so much he wanted to die so he could float up through the clouds and pass our airplane and wave "hi, boys"

steve: oh yeah, i forgot we saw him on the wing of the plane

me: I thought it was odd that they let us bring that ouiji board on the plane

steve: and that sassy flight attendant said, "oh shit, who dyin' today, boys?"

me: and then we just pointed out the window and there was Jacko, just building a sandcastle, smiling.

steve: yeah, i can't believe all that actually happened

me: no one can

Chats with Steve: On Storytelling

steve: it's been surprisingly difficult to come up with flash ideas

me: it'll become a story if you add a cow falling out of the sky randomly. then it's all, what do we do about this fallen cow? why did the cow fall-let's investigate. Pure story.

steve: dumb and yes, story

me: the greatest story ever told

because you know what? the cow was jesus

the end

steve: those are the last two sentences

me: before the apocalypse. it happens right after you finish reading the story

steve: i'm thinking about trying to make the quarry story a flash piece

me: oh nice

they're pulling shit out of the quarry. oh, what's this? It's a cow that fell in there. And it's Jesus

steve: the drowned boy has turned into a jesus-cow

me: (they could tell because it had stigmata in its hooves)

steve: stigmoota

me: holy cow. dumb.

Movies I Watched in 2013 (some of 'em)

I decided for no reason, other than I enjoy making trivial lists, to document the movies I watched with my wife-to-be who then became my wife in 2013. I didn't even have a blog when I started this--what could have been the point? As I mentioned, I chose to only list the movies I watched with Jessa, none that I watched, say after she'd passed out from a day much longer than mine. If she passed out mid-movie or woke up for the second half, those, of course, were included. I guess I was just hoping to have some additional record of the year we went from dating to married. I'm overly sentimental like that.

This is 40: We went to the theater on New Years Day. It's become something of a New Years tradition (although I can't remember what we would have seen the past two years). This year it was American Hustle. In 2011 it was The King's Speech when we were still living in Chicago and before which we got loaded at a Buffalo Wild Wings (BW3, if you're nasty, although I've never understood why--there are 2 W's, not 3...) before were coerced by a friendly salesman offering discounts to buy a bed at World Market waiting for our showtime. I had to rent a U-Haul to move the bed, which probably negated any savings, and the bed has since broken and been thrown out.

Rock of Ages: Watched with my dad, who I think had already maybe watched just liked it enough to recommend a second viewing for our pleasure. It was okay.

Batman Year One: Christmas present. We recently reimplemented a family tradition from when I had been a kid, where one member of the family is "picked on" by the rest, everyone buying him or her gag gifts based on some quirk or humorous or slightly embarrassing hobby. So my brother-in-law, who loves vodka and Bon Jovi, got stir sticks and Bon Jovi calendars. I, being a comic book dork, got kiddy Spider-Man bathroom cups and Batman movies. I made out like a bandit. This is how I felt on finding out I'd been picked on:

Justice League: Doom: Christmas present. Jessa slept through most of both of these movies, waking up to maybe only say, "Is Brian Cranston Batman?" to which I responded, "No, honey, he's Commissioner Gordon. Shhh," and she drifted back to sleep.

Extract: Jessa slept through most of this too. Kinda wish I had as well. This was no King of the Hill or Office Space. I don't even know you anymore, Mike Judge.

Spinal Tap: Jessa is more of A Mighty Wind kind of girl, we discovered.

Following Sean: Little kids smokin' dope. Hilarity and trauma ensue.

The Skulls: I put this on for Jessa because of her love of the Pacey (Pacey, Casey: are you seeing the appeal here?). She did not approve and it was turned off about 45 minutes in.

Comic Book Confidential: Jessa put this on for me, because she loves me and knew I would enjoy it. Then she got up to take a shower.

Tiny Furniture: We'd already watched Girls season one, so it was kinda surprising we'd put this off this long. With Lena Dunham's, let's say, extreme brand of comedy, a six-hour season of awkward sex is usually enough to tide us over for about six months until her next project is added to Amazon.com.

The Last Man on Earth: This was either a Svengooli Saturday night feature while we waited for an episode of Saturday Night Live, or Jessa being a very patient, supportive girlfriend again.

CSNY Déjà vu: Because damn the man, save the empire!

Pumpkin: Jessa had been recommending this for a few years. I had always thought this dark comedy was about a vapid blonde played by Christina Ricci who everyone called Pumpkin. I was kinda right and oh so very wrong.

Neil Young Heart of Gold: House cleaning music.

Decoy Bride: Because the David Tennant.

Re-Animator: We'd both somehow missed out on this film until seeing it at one of Chicago's Music Box Massacres a few years before. This and Roger Corman's Bucket of Blood were our clear favorites. We like our guts served with a side of silly.

The Hours: Another of Jessa's faves I'd missed out on. I think it was the fake Kidman nose that'd always made me question.

Barton Fink: A clear standout. Both of Coen fans, this was always on the list. The list just being so long, it took a few decades to get to.

My Best Friend’s Wedding: Jessa and I were both home sick with strep, this was on free movie channel. I bought some chicken nuggets and we made an afternoon of it.

The Frightners

Heavenly Creatures: We had a little Peter Jackson marathon with this and the previous movie. Jessa loved Frightners and liked Heavenly Creatures, I vice versa--we compliment each other so well!

Bachelorette: It's not often you and your soon-to-be-wife have never heard of a film with so many people you love in it.

Meet the Fokkens: It's not often there's a film about seventy-year-old twin prostitutes.

Five Year Engagement: Jessa sometimes compares me to Jason Segel who I think she has a tiny celeb-crush on. I've loved Jason Segel since Freaks and Geeks. We're a match made in Hollywood-nerd-Heaven

Seeking a Friend for the End of the World: We regularly have celebratory "middle-class date nights" where we go to Applebees and see a Steve Carell movie after the end of a semester and things like that.

Pitch Perfect: Anna Kendrick: triple threat (she can sing, she can make music with cups, she can act in Twilight and I still don't hate her). I think Jessa and I both have celeb-crushes on Anna her now. Although Jessa says Anna looks exactly like Adam Scott with boobs. It's true. But I know Jessa has a crush on Adam Scott and likes boobs, so it all makes sense. And according to the internet, she is not the first to think this.

Hamlet: Because we both teach Shakespeare (aawwwww!). And we f'in love some David Tennant.

Woody Allen A Documentary: He's still making some pretty impressive films now and again. This is not one of them. As it is rather about him.

Man on the Moon: I'm a comedy nerd. Jessa's an REM nerd. Match made in media Heaven.

Safety Not Guaranteed: I can't say anything funny or bad about this amazing movie with amazing people from Parks and Rec, New Girl, and the League doing time travel stuff and making funny.

Undefeated: Jessa would go to the school featured in this movie once a month for Teach for America training. Any documentary that offers that, you gotta watch. See also: American Movie featuring my hometown!

We Bought a Zoo: I cried when the tiger died. Whatever.

Young Adult: One of those films where the trailer makes it look like a slap-happy comedic romp. Actually about depression.

The Mission: Amazing Stories: Young Kevin Costner, cartoon magic, war stuff. Spielberg at his finest.

Trading Places: This was the start of an Eddie Murphy kick when Jessa realized she'd missed out on the majority of his oeuvre outside of the ones where he dresses in fat suits or talks to animals.

Silver Linings Playbook: And we climb ever further onto the adoring Jennifer Lawrence bandwagon.

Right back atcha', J-Law.

Inbetweeners the Movie: We binge-watched the show, which is amazing, then rented the movie, only to have it added to instant watch a week later. Don't you hate when that happens?

Queen of Versailles: A few weeks after watching this, I was noticed it playing on the TV in the lobby of my office. Usually the TV is set to CNN or another news station. It seemed like an odd choice. Then when I walked into the men's room, it seemed an even odder choice for the man in the stall to be sitting there in his bare socks. It was an odd day all around.

Lucy: Yup, the made for TV movie about a TV show.

Color me Kubrick: Color us not so impressed.

Casual Sex?: One of the few movie titles to feature a question mark. And someone falling in love with Andrew Dice Clay.

And that's just the first 4 months of 2013! The rest of the year was devoted to Toddlers and Tiaras binging.

How to Not Kill Yourself in the New Year / 13 Years Ago I Made a Cassette Tape

Oh, bloggy blog, how I've missed you! The hustle and bustle of the holiday season have kept me away from your warm embrace for over a month. But I've returned, lover...

Ew. Gross. I end my cliche analogy of a relationship to blogging right there. "Lover" has to be the ickiest word ever uttered. If I'm reading a story where someone refers to their significant other as that ew-ickiest-yuckity-yuck-ick-yuckest words, I'm done, I'm out, I drop the book, close the webpage. If my wife ever referred to me as "lover," I'd throw her out of bed. And I'm proud to say, she'd do the same to me. Just imagine your parents calling each other that icktastic word and you'll wanna shoot yourself in the face.

Anyway, missed ya', ya' old blogeroony.

I have a new piece up a the Prague Revue. It's the New Year, and folks do a lot of reflecting around this time, and sometimes they air their holiday grievances or start regretting what they didn't accomplish in the previous year. In this new piece, I say F all that. Let's look at all of the wonderful things we get to regularly enjoy in this wonderful life. Among other things, my list includes Robert Fripp solos and pretty ladies. And then I encourage others to create their own lists of awe and wonder. 

You can click here to read HOW TO NOT KILL YOURSELF IN THE NEW YEAR. Then please go ahead and leave your list of neato things about this universe we call home in the comments section.

I'd also like to add, despite the fact that I've lived this long does make me sorta wanna kill myself, today is the thirteenth anniversary of the first cassette I sold under the Thirsting Quench moniker, Mmm, 4-Tracky! named after the fact that it was recorded to 4-track tape and an allusion to a line in Buffy the Vampire Slayer, because even at 18 I was just that cool. It consists of a bunch of 4-track mucking about I, at the time, called experiments, and sappy, teenage lovey dovey romantics.

If you're into that sort of thing, download MMM, 4-TRACKY here.

Lou Reed and Why Not to Have a Baby (at least for now)

My two most recent articles at The Prague Revue are about two of my favorite things: music and Netflix.

When I sat down to write my piece last month, I had no intention to write about Lou Reed and his recent passing. I was going to write about home recording music and how to do it from a more practical point of view. But then, suddenly I had two pages written on Lou and what he meant to me and to the world, including some fairly logical reasons why someone might not like Lou's work, and how those biases might be overcome. In my mind, all of this was funneling into the topic of home recording and not worrying about the inevitable warts and fidelity problems when experimenting without a hundred-thousand dollar studio budget.

You can read that one here: How to Home-Record Music Like You’re Lou Reed and Too Cool To Give A Damn

The topic of the most recent piece was actually suggested by my wife, Jessa, after a conversation that started something like, "I know it makes absolutely no sense financially or anything for us to have a baby right now. But, honey, we're married now and I'm done with grad school, and my hormones are telling me some stupid, stupid things." So I wrote a only half tongue in cheek article about how one might use their Netflix Instant watching selections to remind themselves to keep buying prophylactics at least for the time being.

That one can be checked out here: How to use Netflix to Remind Your Spouse of Your Five-Year Plan to Wait to Have Children

Next month I'm thinking about trying for a nice, short, catchy article title. But I'll probably fail.

On the Anniversary of Dr. Kamikaze's Final Show in 2005

Eight years ago today, Dr. Kamikaze and the $35 Sound (that's my band; we made a bunch of noise once upon a time) played its last live show. So in the spirit of pointless nostalgia and celebrating myself, I thought I'd post a little retrospective of Kamikaze recordings.

When Dr. Kamikaze and I (he being the Dr. Kamikaze half of the band, me being the $35 Sound half) were just scrappy 18-year-olds, we played our first show at a Battle of the Bands which we had organized and which we also won 3rd place. We also counted the ballots (wink*). Technically, Dr. Kamikaze and I had previously performed in bands together including Postersoup (named after the Andy Warhol Campbell's prints), Melkbox (pronounced "milkbox" and named after Midwesterners' penchant for pronouncing "I"s as "E"s, which I've since noticed is subverted in the south; "Kin ah borrow a pin?" when someone wants a writing utensil), and The Knight's Who Say "Ni!" (after the Monty Python bit). All of those bands were under-rehearsed and mostly fell apart because, at the time, all I really wanted to do was play depressing Pink Floyd covers.

We billed the band as a "performance art duo" and would do things like pass out cookies during our set, prop up a blow up doll (our "third member") against a keyboard with taped down keys so it droned endlessly throughout a song, produce feedback from our instruments with electric back massagers and various vibrating devices ordered from adult websites, and, of course, wear costumes (dresses, masks, goggles, capes, surgical attire, etc.). The above excerpt has Dr. Kamikaze reading study hall notes written by our classmates which we had throughout the year found abandoned, in crumpled balls under a stairwell, in the elevator, or being kicked down the hall. In true Futurist fashion, we read them to piss people off. Actually, to be honest, we read them to get laughs. We pretty much knew no one mentioned in the notes would be in attendance. And we changed the names. Still, kind of a dick move.

The above snippet is from a recording made in Dr. Kamikaze's living room at sunset during the Summer Solstice, 2002, mostly because we thought it'd be cool to have a recording we could say was influenced by ritual magick and pseudoscience. The $35 Sound was always a hodgepodge of nods to various forms of artsy pretentiousness from Futurism to spoken word to minimalist and postmodern composition with a tongue in cheek--satiric, if we wanted to sound fancy--approach to cover the fact that, in reality, we absolutely loved all that stuff.

The break near the end of the song is Dr. Kamikaze answering a phone call for his sister. I remember almost being frustrated in the moment, knowing that if it had been my home and my phone ringing, I would have ignored it rather than interrupt the recording (the ringing probably too quiet under the racket we were making to be audible anyway). Of course, pausing needlessly to answer a phone call for someone who wasn't even home ended up being the most Kamikaze-esque moment on the recording.

For a couple of shows we performed a rip off of King Crimson's rip off of Gustav Holst's "Mars" from the Planets suite (also ripped off by John Williams for the Darth Vader theme). Ours was simpler and messier.

Throughout college, the $35 Sound played our respective campuses, drunken house parties, and more and more campus gigs. But our first college gig was actually returning to our high school to, again, play a Battle of the Bands. We had just finished our freshman year of college and were living back home for the summer when I received a call from a kid two years behind us (who had always been kinda a jerk to us even though, in the past, I'd let him borrow my most valuable possession, my four-track machine, to record Jimi Hendrix covers) saying that he had taken over organizing our town's battle of the bands and had failed miserably because the show was that night and all but three bands had backed out and would we please come play. We hadn't played together in over a year and we had no rehearsed material, but there was no way we were passing up an opportunity to be the homecoming heroes. So we called up our buddies, Eddie Dirtnap and Stevert Enson, who agreed to come improvise a set with us. Six hours later we arrived at the high school where we were informed that most of the bands that had backed out had since un-backed out and that our services were no longer required.

We insisted on playing anyway. Living at home back with your parents after a year of freshman-freedom, we hadn't had much excitement in the past few weeks. We needed this, we pleaded. We were told to keep it to about ten minutes. Stevert had forgotten his drum sticks so he found a tree and broke off two large branches, about three-feet long each, which he proceeded to pummel his kit with until nuts and bolts were flying into the crowd. Twenty minutes into our ten-minute set, he'd smashed through several drum heads and his cymbals lay demolished strewn across the riser. And that's when the power was cut and we continued to play for another five minutes or so. We were big-time college kids and had, apparently, earned the right to be jerks.

Dr. Kamikaze and the $35 Sound Do Business in Outer-Space was recorded in Chicago over a three-day weekend in the summer of 2008 during which the $35 Sound also attended not one but two concerts by one of our favorite bands, Polvo, met the guitarist from one of our least favorite bands, Stained, who went on a diatribe about how much Polvo sucks before asking if we wanted to "roll" with him, offering us some ecstasy (we declined, but, classy guy as he was, he later found a homeless man to gift the tabs that were meant for us to), and attended a midnight showing of Dario Argento's Mother of Tears. And, for some reason, I also remember a lot of discussion about the merits or lack of merits to new-on-the-scene Sasha Grey's "work."

The Literacy Program was my other band at the time. One of the staples to our set was an ode to Dr. Kamikaze I wrote (appropriately titled "Dr. Kamikaze") because of, you know, our bromance and all. I'm obligated to mention that the lyrics about him failing chemistry are just for the sake of the rhyme scheme. He actually failed calculus.

We could've just done a cover of this song to get the same point across though.

You can listen to and download most of the Dr. Kamikaze recordings at the links below.

The Sun Is Up; You Must Get Up Too

Dual Ego Gratification

Quarternity

fickle is where the heart is...

Effempty

Make Art & Stuff Like It

The Money Goes Up

An Agony In Eight Fits

Do Business In Outer-Space

Diametric Correlator and the $35 Sound

it'll work, and nothing will happen: the lost tapes

That last one was recently remastered from the original four-track tapes and features recordings of our high school friends giggling and saying stupid stuff in "altered states of mind," guitars played in dorm communal bathrooms, an Iraq war protest that turned into a slight riot, girls yelling about monkeys, people playing beanbag toss, a story about a stuck-up jerk I met my first year of college who was probably just trying really hard to fit in, Dr. Kamikaze's recollection of accidentally spilling chocolate milk all over his pants in front of a girl he liked, Stevert beating his drums to a song about a whale who dies and goes to heaven but can't fit through the pearly gates, and me being over-enthusiastic and coming off as a jerk making fun of Dr. Kamikaze for not being able to sing or whistle.

And the cover image is of an empty platform and a mirror where a girl I knew once, on a whim, got naked, covered herself in balloons, and posed on and off of a rocking horse and asked me to take photos of her. The whole thing made me nervous as hell and after the photos were snapped she went home for the weekend and I went and got greasy Friday night spaghetti in the dorm cafeteria. I'd liked her and think she'd liked me, but the whole scenario that might have led to something freaked me out and we both became really awkward around each other and then she transferred after the year ended. All of that (along with the fact that those recordings had been lost and then found after a year, and that, out of some sense of what I thought was nobility but was really some sort of fear of ever feeling that awkward again, I threw out the rocking horse-naked-girl-balloon negatives) seemed to fit the title, it'll work, and nothing will happen.

In conclusion, Dr. Kamikaze and the $35 Sound has, since my teens, functioned as a record of my most embarrassing and awkward and pretentious moments. And somehow, through documenting those moments so that I can easily access them and share them without shame via handed out cassettes, Bandcamp downloads, and now blog posts, they've become some of my most fondly cherished memories. Dr. Kamikaze and the $35 Sound: the greatest substitute to therapy I've ever known.

Queries: Round Four

Got a rejection from Mr. Christopher Schelling this week. In my query I'd congratulated him and Augusten Burroughs on their recent marriage, briefly mentioning mine saying I'd hope they were enjoying married life as much as I am. I mentioned how I'd hope he'd seen some similarities to Eleanor & Park by Rainbow Rowell (one of his authors). This was before Richard Florest had compared the manuscript, after having read it, to that book. So hopefully I'm on to something here.

Here's Mr. Schelling's kind response:  

"Thanks so much for sending your novel - and for your kind words on my marriage. (Congratulations on yours. We're ridiculously happy too.) There's a lot to like here, especially how you capture the emotions so clearly. I see why Eleanor & Park would be a comparison, but..." and it goes on from there.

And instead of talking about that but, I'd much rather talk about this one (I love talking about buts): I was bummed to receive Mr. Schelling's rejection this week, BUT was thrilled to receive a SASE back in the mail yesterday from none other than John Green's agent, Ms. Jodi Reamer at Writer's House. I was teaching a 20th Century American Drama night class, and by teaching I mean watching the Dustin Hoffman/John Malkovich Death of a Salesman  holding back tears in front of my students, when my wife messaged me on Facebook. Previously I'd been very ceremonious about query responses: Don't open the email until after you're home and have had dinner; Don't let your wife open the SASE if you're not home; Finish x number of student registrations before opening it at work. I decided I was probably jinxing myself. So I told Jessa to open the envelope and message me whatever it said right then and there. If I was going to cry in front of my students anyway, I might as well have a better reason than it being a real darn shame Biff had to burn those sneakers after he flunked math.

Ms. Reamer, who had received the first 10 pages with my initial query requested the first 50ish. So a once over of those 50 pages, selecting a good breaking point, and emailing the requested file on was how I spent my lunch break. And then I even had time left over to query Tom Perrotta's agent, mostly because Jessa and I realized that both my book and his Little Children feature disturbing masturbation scenes. And what else could an agent possibly be looking for than that?

Maybe one day my book can be turned into a movie with sexy, sexy people in it too. 

On an unrelated note, Jessa and I discovered we'd "made it" this week when our Google alerts pointed us to this article on citations: "How to Cite Large Sections of a Poem."

Despite our book, The Way We Sleep  having no poetry in it, the author, Adam Jefferys chose to use us, of all multiple editors of all volumes of anything ever published, as the example for how to cite a volume with multiple editors: "For a poem from an anthology, include the editor's name or names after the book's title, preceded by "Ed." For example: Ed. C. James Bye and Jessa Bye."

So yeah, it's been a good week. 

Update: I completely forgot until Jessa mentioned it that Ms. Reamer is also Bruce "Ash" Campbell's agent!

Nema Reve Third Anniversary

Three years ago I recorded this little jam called Nema Reve. I've recorded a lot of junk ever since I was fifteen and first went halfsies on a four-track recorder with my then bandmate and good buddy to this day, Eddie. And then I handed out or sold for a buck cassettes of things I would make under the "label" Stir Up Your Grey Matter. One day in October of 2010 I realized I had put together forty-nine "albums" between myself, my bands, and a few friends' bands. So I figured I should mark that momentous occasion with a very special fiftieth release.

The problem was I hadn't written any new music in a while so I had nothing recorded to compile into a release and not even any songs to record for a new project. I was listening to a lot of Stereolab and Steve Reich that month so drones and minimalism were on my mind. On the El ride home from a day of tutoring, I came up with the idea to mix the two by using layered instruments playing either one note or simple melodies all in the same key (occasionally shifting from major to minor) in various time signatures, then using that backing drone to develop various chord patters that would segue in and out of each other. I named the idea "Variations" and labeled the different patterns with roman numerals. One track was guitar-based patterns, the other piano-based. I was, at the time, finishing up the first draft of More Like a Siren, Less Like a Bell , and had written about seventy pages or so while listening solely to Reich's Music for 18 Musicians on repeat. So that's definitely in the piano-driven piece.

Over a two-day period I recorded these two tracks along with the below shorter track, "Gypsy Pogo," which was based on a similar concept of shifting chordal drones and interlocking synthesizer patterns/melodies that would develop to a natural climax.

The final track, "Nema Reve," was simply a looped synthesizer track with effects (delay, reverb, deterioration) gradually added and faded in over the course of the song. Another looped track of field recordings of various mechanical devices is layered above this.

My then girlfriend, now wife, Jessa had this weird photo of her playing on the counter at her grandmother's house which just happened to have been shot right as the TV next to her displayed some creeper, wide-eyed and close-up, as if some creepy-deepy Exorcist stuff was about to go on.

My wife, Jessa, being possessed by a TV demon. This may be why, to this day, we're forced to watch so much Netflix.

Anyway, that's my pretentious way of saying I threw together an album in two days to mark an occasion that no one gave a butt about except for me. I posted Nema Reve   to my bandcamp on November 2nd, 2010 and, somehow, it struck some sort of chord with people who download obscuro music online, or at least one very important person who downloads obscuro music online.

Author, Warren Ellis (Red, Transmetropolitan ) found it a few days later and wrote the following on his blog: "I’m listening to the first track right now. It starts like an outtake from 'Fur Immer' (I’ve been listening to NEU! all afternoon, which made for a weird moment when I had to check if I was streaming audio or still in iTunes).   And then it stops.  And then they sort of go through a time-travel portal and put their other foot directly into 90s postrock while still strumming the motorik.  At which point, yes, it’s total comfort food for old rockist tendencies, but by the time they start digging power chords out of their guitars with rusty screwdrivers, I’m off with the fairies.  Thirsting Quench and the Captains of Industry, we salute you."

Then a slew of other blogs, having read Mr. Ellis' ridiculously kind post, gave Nema Reve  a listen and wrote their own kind thoughts on it. Outside of some of the larger shows I've played with bands (mostly battle of the bands type situations), Mr. Ellis granted me the largest audience I've ever had for my music. And I've been chasing that feeling unsuccessfully ever since. Thanks for making happiness and fulfillment so unobtainable, Warren Ellis.

 NEMA REVE CAN BE STREAMED AND DOWNLOADED HERE

An (of course, deserved) Extremely Nice Review of The Way We Sleep!

The American Book Review  had some extremely kind words on my and my wife's anthology, The Way We Sleep  in their July/August 2013 issue (Vol 34, No 5). Here's an excerpt:

You can pick up a copy of the magazine HERE. And don't forget about picking up a copy of The Way We Sleep from Curbside Splendor or on Amazon (it's almost Christmas, ya know)! 

First Manuscript Request Rejected (Queries Round Four)

Sunday I queried Mr. Richard Florest of Rob Weisbach Creative Management. This is the agency that represents Brad Meltzer (who wrote one of my favorite comics of the last decade, Identity Crisis), not to mention Jon Stewart and a slew of big name celebrities. This was a hail Mary on my part, but as I mentioned before, in the early stages of querying, I'm aiming big and throwing the spaghetti at the wall to seeing what sticks here. Plus the agency is focused on developing careers, and in their submission guidelines they even asked to hear about future projects and overall career goals, which really appealed to me.

Needless to say, I was shocked when Mr. Florest responded less than 48 hours later asking to see the manuscript. He did mention he wasn't crazy about More Like a Siren, Less Like a Bell as a title, but if I wasn't married to that, he thought it sounded like a really exiting project. I do love the title, but the book has had other titles in in various draft stages (including "Glib" and "Loretta's Scars" after the Pavement song, seeing as the main character, Loretta, actually goes to see the band near the end of the novel and the whole thing is about little events that have messed her up in one way or another).

So I sent the manuscript and yesterday got what I can only imagine is one of the most encouraging rejections ever emailed. 

He starts, "I tend to glance at the first few lines of every manuscript, only rarely setting aside the day's business to read (in this industry reading, I'm sure you've heard, happens at night, on weekends, etc.). Well, your story has a strange pull, and it proved to be one of those rare instances." So some nice ego-stroking there. At least this gives me an idea that my query letter is doing what it's supposed to.

He continues, "You have literary chops but a knack for pacing and tension that I'd typically associate with a gifted writer of suspense. And there are elements of the story that have settled under my skin in ways both pleasing and disconcerting." Okay, hugely complimentary and then that tiny, tiny pause for consideration in that word "disconcerting." I'm reading and praying, maybe it's something he thinks we can work through?

"So, then, know that I think you have the seed for something great here--I just think it needs to evolve quite a bit more before it's ready for publishers."

Tear.

He goes on to explain how, although he's a big believer in young audiences "reading-up," the content in the book may be too dark for YA. I've considered this myself, though have been encouraged to submit as YA from writing friends and in a writing consultation with First Blood  author, David Morrell. I've also been concerned about the book starting with an eight-year-old protagonist told by a third person narrator whose voice remains, throughout the book, mostly consistent with the grown, twenty-two-year-old version of that protagonist who we see in the majority of the book. Mr. Florest mentioned this "seemed to me a disconnect between the controlling narrative perspective and Loretta (and then, by extension, the primary intended audience for the book)." With the narrator's "concerns, perspective, sophistication (and then eventually the arc of the story)--too often it just didn't read YA to me."

So for a brief moment I started stressing myself out about how I might address these concerns in a rewrite, and would I even be able to, and am I a decent enough writer to make this stupid book even work?!? And then my confidence was restored in the next paragraph: "...As I read in spots I was reminded of some very successful stories: Mathilda Savitch, Eleanor & Park, a little bit of The Lovely Bones, even one of George Saunders' short stories. And maybe someone else will see a way with it in its current form. Regardless, good luck, and thanks again for giving me a shot."

A big time agent. Just compared me. To George. Freaking. Saunders. 

Thirsting Quench Pisses off Hardcore Punks with New Album

I've been making little recordings under the pseudonym of Thirsting Quench since I was 17 when I formed a band called Dr. Kamikaze and the $35 Sound with my friend Jeff. He was the good doctor, so I needed an alternate identity as well. The formula for DK&$35S was usually that Jeff was the chaos/noise and I was the order/orchestration. Lately I've been recording solo and get to throw in a bit more of the noise myself, but there's definitely a through-line from Kamikaze to TQ material. But when Kamikaze performed live, occasionally Jeff would also like to add in visual or performance aspects outside of the music.

For example, in February of 2003, Jeff booked us for a hardcore punk festival in Madison, Wisconsin knowing that musically we were the furthest from hardcore punk a band could possibly be. For that show we played about 15 minutes of improvised loops of ambient synthesizer and piano drones accompanied by trumpet solos and spoken word with no drummer. If I remember correctly, there's a good chance neither of us even used any distortion pedals that night. Of course, our pretentious way of thinking of it as barely twenty-year-olds was that pissing off an entire room full of punks and not doing what was expected of you was just about the most punk thing one could do.

Somehow, the crowd reacted favorably and some mohawked students even came up to ask us about some of the sound sources we used (we'd also packed the place with friends, so by the end of our set there was enough applause to encourage others into thinking it was acceptable).

Not everyone was in favor of our crashing the hardcore party though. As we packed up our gear, on the last trip out to the car, while wheeling my amp down an ice-coated sidewalk, some of the attendees who were less liberal in their definition of "hardcore punk" saw us as they exited down at the opposite side of the building. They yelled some accusatory obscenities as they took off across the snow-covered grass to chase us.

Jeff slipped and fell on his ass. I kinda tried to ride my amp down the hilly sidewalk until it fell over. We were, all us, a little drunk (see, we did have common ground with these punks, if only they took the time to get to know us), so it's a bit blurry, but our friend Elliott, who I mentioned having attended his amazing-tastic wedding in a recent post, somehow saved our asses, and I believe he did it by choosing to stand his ground, yelling something like, "Back off," and, fists clenched, kinda rushing back towards the charging punks (who, in reality, weren't moving that quickly, trudging through several inches of snow). The punks slowed, almost paused, probably not expecting an actual standoff but just good natured chasing to put some fear in the outsiders, giving Jeff and me enough time to regain our footing, unlock the doors to my classy, green Chrysler LeBaron, and toss in the amp, before Elliott stopped in his tracks and hauled ass (he had been a track runner in high school--again, I think; it's all getting a bit blurry at this age, drinks or no drinks, nevertheless he was svelte and quick) and dived into the back seat (he was, for a matter of fact, on the diving team, this I do remember). Then we all went to a house-party and did many a stupid things. Later, Elliott fell into Lake Mendota. But that's a story for another time.

Anyway, that's just one of the myths from the Dr. Kamikaze book of legends. It's all just fair warning that if, dear reader, you identify as a hardcore punk, this new recording, called ʃmæltst may make you want to trudge through snow in the dead cold of a Midwestern February night to beat the shit out of me. Then again, hardcore punk, we thought we were going to piss off an entire venue of you once, and most of you came around to it. Maybe give a listen, eh? So try clicking here to listen and/or download the album for free. The sample track below is probably the most hardcore I've ever gone in my music and it sounds very little like anything else on the album. So click that link and check the rest out.

                       

ʃmæltst Cover

                               

The Court of the Crimson King

Last month at the Prague Revue  I wrote about my second favorite thing ever: Batman. This month, I wrote about my very most favoritist thing absolutely ever: KING CRIMSON (the only band to ever inspire me to get a tattoo!). The piece is essentially a brief history of progressive rock with King Crimson as the lynchpin that's held it all together since their 1969 debut with a whole bunch of Youtube videos so you can immediately get immersed in the music. Plus it's pretty funny, if I do say so myself (it's not to take a few jabs at a musical genre known for its lyrics about wizards and dwarfs).

If you've ever heard of King Crimson, but not actually heard them and had some curiosity, my goal was to get beyond that curiosity and into the band. If you hate prog rock (as most sane people do), there's even a section on how the Crimsos have often crossed over into pop working with the likes of Blondie, Talking Heads, Bowie, and even being sampled by Kanye.

Check it out. If you're pretty into music, there should be at least something new to enjoy!

And now because I'm sure you're curious, and because it so very sexy: my King Crimson Discipline tattoo...

It looks wet because I had just gotten it and cleaned it. It is not dripping tattoo juice. 

Cloudy with a Chance of Ron Barrett

This past weekend my wife and I were more than excited to catch up with some of our best Madison and Chicago friends at the wedding of my buddy, Elliott (who I've known since sixth grade) and his beautiful wife, Rebecca. I've had some great times with Elliott and Rebecca, but many of those times were at Pitchfork Music Fest where it's kinda hard to get to know your friend's girlfriend over the sound of squealing guitars and too-loud neon headbands ("Neon Headbands," hey, that could be the name of a band reviewed on Pitchfork!). So I had no idea that her father was the one and only, Ron Barrett.

As his bio states, Ron Barrett is the internationally bestselling illustrator of many books for children, including Superhero Joe, Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs, Pickles to Pittsburgh, Animals Should Definitely Not Wear Clothing, and Old MacDonald Had an Apartment House. His illustrations have been honored by the Society of Illustrators and have been exhibited at The Louvre in Paris. He lives in New York City.

Ron is also someone I've admired for some time, especially for his work with National Lampoon (as Ron refers to it, "when it was really good"--he says he "later became the magazine's art director and funeral director"). Here's a sample:

Having loved his illustration and amazing sense of humor, when my wife and I began planning our anthology of prose, interviews, and comics about beds, The Way We Sleep, Ron was, I believe, the second or third person I contacted to solicit for a piece to include in the book. He was definitely one of the first to respond. And what a generous response. He offered to develop one piece, sending sketches and pencils along the way for editorial approval (I would've approved if he sneezed in a cocktail napkin and sent it our way). Then when he had finished the several page long, full color comic, he offered to create another original piece for the book.

The wine flowed, the Wisconsin cheese and sausage appetizers amazed, and the wedding was beautiful (despite the day drifting back and forth from stormy to drizzly). And Ron was, of course, gracious and generous, spending time on the day of his daughter's wedding to ask in depth about how the book's sales were going and how we were doing. Of course, I waited until my eyes were red with exhaustion and wine, my tie was disheveled, and the night was coming to an end to ask to snatch a snapshot. But Ron still looks dapper.

From left to right: Ron Barrett; Beautiful wife; Guy who doesn't know how to tie a tie

You can check out the two amazing comics Ron gave us for, like, absolutely no reason other than he's the swellest of guys in The Way We Sleep! And, obviously, go see Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs 2 in theaters!