Here at THE VINYL DISTRICTwe're good consumers. All Mp3's are posted to promote and give exposure to the music and are linked for a limited time. Please download to preview, then head promptly to your local vinyl vendor (or - OK, CD store too) and fork over your hard earned cash. You'll appreciate the piece of mind.
Got something you think we should be listening to or reading? thevinyldistrict (at) gmail.com
Two universes mosey down the street Connected by love and a leash and nothing else. Mostly I look at lamplight through the leaves While he mooches along with tail up and snout down, Getting a secret knowledge through the nose Almost entirely hidden from my sight.
New feature! Have a band? Fill us in directly on the meandering ways of a career in the music industry right here. We want the heartbreaking trials and tribulations and the lofty heights as you wend your way through the music making machinery. Because you need to vent, right?
First up, Adam Bentley from our friends to the north, The Rest.
"I was honoured when Jon first asked me to be a guest blogger on The Vinyl District, and had planned to get to work right away, but life had other plans. The intial reason for me to write this article was the first obstacle that obstructed my path. We’re currently working on a four part illustrated novel/EP titled The Cried Wolf Book. The story revolves around a surrealist take on the adult adventures of the boy who cried wolf. Each month (beginning October 1st) we’re releasing a free downloadable song from this site.
October’s song is a cover of Robyn’s smash hit With Every Heartbeat and on November 1st will see the next part of the story unveiled with the song The Close Western (which I’ve included here for the first time).
So, two weeks ago I was madly trying to complete the second part of the story for the illustrator before the band left to do a mini tour in the UK. I fell behind quickly with flight plans and scheduling issues taking up most of my time. I then promised myself to finish the post in England. Once we arrived in England in was pretty clear I wasn’t going to have much time to be typing away at the computer as shows, BBC interviews, press, photos, videos, and sampling the amazingness that is a foreign country reigned supreme.
I spoke with Jon and promised that would complete the post before the beginning of the week, but almost the minute I touched Canadian soil a brutal, coma inducing sickness attacked my sleep-deprived body. I felt like an aging prizefighter with a sinus problem. Up and down meant nothing and could barely tell you what day it was let alone the time. However, I woke up today and the fog was lifted. Almost comparable to the day after a wicked hangover…I felt alive again!
So, enjoy the songs, and keep checking the site above for a new song and the continuation of the story!" —Adam
I spent a little time up at Som Records last night after a perfectly agreeable walk from the office downtown in some lovely, warm mid-October weather, picked up the new Clientele and Manics LPs AND a bottle of wine, and took the long route home.
True to his newly established schedule, Pete was ready for his last walk of the day shortly after I got back and out we went, the sun down now but still quite balmy indeed. He’s pretty particular about where he does his thing, so I had plenty of time to meander and think. Like a full half hour.
So... I’ll confess something without any hint of irony or sarcasm—I had a great epiphany during last night’s walk. Something crystallized for me, something I knew was churning but hadn’t reached the level of conscious expression:
I realize that I go on and on about this blog being your forum too, so to underscore that a bit, our Art Brut ticket winner Valerie has a thought or five on last Sunday night’s show:
It’s hard not to root for Eddie Argos. Art Brut is like the musical equivalent of the Chicago Cubs: they won’t be on Top of the Pops and despite their assurances, they certainly won’t beat Satan but whenever there’s a new Art Brut album, it’s exciting and whenever they’re in town, it’s even more exciting. Because the kitschy speak-sing over angular guitars can get old on repeated listens but I would shell out fifteen dollars to see them every night if given the option. Here’s why.
1. Eddie Argos has remarkably good stage presence. He looks like Doc Oc with a bad dye job and a stupid earring and he sings about embarrassing things like drinking chocolate milkshakes when nearing thirty and not being able to get it up. But while the rest of us would get up there, sing about those faults and still sound like complete losers, he manages to get up onstage and actually look cool. Oh sure, he does things like play jump rope with the microphone cord (and consequently damage it) that never look cool. He also does things that are clearly canned, like letting the microphone droop pitifully out of his hand during “Rusted Guns of Milan.” But for the most part, he can throw himself around stage (or jump amidst the crowd offstage) and rock out just as hard as his idols. Which brings me to number two.
2. He appreciates all that was great about rock and roll and honestly seeks to emulate it. For starters, Argos is clearly a huge Jonathan Richman fan. If this wasn’t obvious from the offset when he bungled the lyrics to “Roadrunner” before going into “Formed a Band,” it should have been obvious before the end of the set. Before every song he asked, “Ready, Art Brut?” as if channeling the spirit of that first Modern Lovers album where Richman repeatedly asked that same summoning question to his own band. He also recognizes the value of continued rock and roll education or questions like, “How am I just finding out about The Replacements?” wouldn’t show up in his lyrics and he wouldn’t punctuate his set with votes of confidence to The Ramones and Iggy Pop. Iggy Pop brings me to number three.
3. He’s not afraid to poke fun where fun poking is due. He regaled the audience before the start of “The Passenger” that he originally had dedicated the song to Iggy Pop since Iggy had an identically titled song. Then Argos found out that the song was about heroin and can no longer dedicate that song to him. Not because of the heroin use, but rather because they no longer have that appreciation for public transit in common. When poking fun at the titular little brother in “My Little Brother” he said that the first song on the mixtape made by the little brother had the very unoriginal “Karma Police” at the beginning. He actually had to leave stage to remind himself how to sing that song. I don’t know that he necessarily has anything against Radiohead (or the Velvet Underground for that matter) but more so the bands that they’ve inspired who have received great success for derivative music and mediocre energy levels. Which is why having Princeton as a tourmate confuses me greatly. They were pretty boring.
4. He’s just as nerdy as we are. He changed the words to “Modern Art” to make it “DC Comics makes me want to rock out.” And then went on this long story, while hopping up and down in the audience about how he went to the DC Comics headquarters and had the bat signal shined in his face. Among other things. And it was glorious.
5. He’s as much of a purist as we are. He went on a rant in the middle of, I think “Bad Weekend” about how last time he went to a record store he first saw DVDs and computer games...and he hates both.
“...Of all the stupid things I could have thought / This was the worst / I started to believe / That I was born at seventeen / And all the stupid things / The letters and the broken verse / Stayed hidden at the bottom of the drawer / They'd always been / And now I plough through piles / Of bills, receipts and credit cards / And tickets and the Daily News / And sometimes I just . . .Wanna go back to my home town / Though I know it'll never be the same / Back to my home town / 'Cause it's been so long / And I'm wondering if it's still there...
We think we're pretty smart / Us city slickers get around / And when the going's rough / We kill the pain and relocate / We're never married / Never faithful not to any town / But we never leave the past behind / We just accumulate / So sometimes when the music stops / I seem to hear a distant sound / Of waves and seagulls / Football crowds and church bells / And I . . .Wanna go back to my home town / Though I know it'll never be the same / Back to my home town / 'Cause it's been so long / And I'm wondering if it's still there...
Back to my home town / Though I know it'll never be the same / Back to my home town / 'Cause it's been so long / And I'm wondering if it's still there...”
I could have sworn ol’ Pete was singing this song on his walk this morning. Something about it ‘hitting him on some visceral level’ he mumbled with a leaf hanging off his mouth.
Silver Spring stalwarts The Jet Age have a brand new release in "Love" on the shelves later this month, and leading up to its debut, TVD chatted with Eric Tischler, the band's lead singer, songwriter, and guitarist for some thoughts on inspiration of the vinyl variety—and beyond.
"I don't think I could've made in "Love" without vinyl. A collection of songs that asks you to sit down with the sleeve and pay attention? That's a relic of the vinyl age; could you have such an idea today without vinyl's example?
in "Love" is the story of a man and a woman, each otherwise spoken for (he's married with kids; she's got a long-term boyfriend), how and why they fall in love, and the reactions of (and commentary from) those around them. In other words, it's an examination of love, fidelity, and the value of family and personal happiness, and it takes 10 songs to tell the story so, right there, hitting "shuffle" on iTunes brings you diminishing returns (although I wrote the songs so they could stand alone; the test is each one's gotta be suitable for a mix tape, but I guess that's for another blog). As a result, it's a record that asks you to sit down with the lyric sheet and listen (the lyrics are color coded to make it easier to figure out who's "saying" what, when); again, something many of us first learned to do with vinyl.
Even the sound of the record is an attempt to capture the meaty sound of vinyl. My studio is state-of-the-art 1984. The kick drum figures prominently and you don't REALLY get the mix until you're sitting in front of some speakers that can handle it. The record sounds thick and muscular, and deliberately so; it's the sound I grew up with.
As a kid, it felt like my family listened to Stevie Wonder's Songs in the Key of Life every weekend; the changing of sides was a ritual unto itself, and the ebb and flow of the record was intrinsic to that. My music always comes before my lyrics, and that's because I need to sequence the record first, establish that same type of ebb and flow.
I remember vividly the thrill of picking up The Kids Are Alright on vinyl: Gatefold, inner sleeves like film cans, and a glossy, heavy stock book for the liner notes. You can't beat it. When we designed the package for in "Love," our designer, Jeffrey Everett of El Jefe Design, was a little concerned about making sure the lyrics were readable; we did some brainstorming, and I think we came up with a package that lives up to vinyl's example (except, y'know, it's smaller).
It all sounds a bit fetishistic when I type it down (and that's after I cut the part about slavishly hunting down Duran Duran 12"s), but then, so's music, right? A somewhat idiosyncratic passion that's personal, intimate. It's why I buy records. And why I make them."
TVD and Comet Ping Pong are excited to launch a new series of ticket giveaway contests where each month you can see your show of choice at Comet—FREE. Simply because we're looking out for you and your good time.
Here's how it'll work: each month we'll publish Comet's full schedule right here at TVD, you choose the show you'd like to see and be the first person to claim the tickets for that show in the comments to this post (with contact info!) and you're in FREE—no questions asked.
It's that simple. No long love letters, nothin'.
There will be just ONE winner for a pair of tickets allowed per show and you can't win more than once in a month. (Hey, we gotta have SOME rules...)
We're starting mid-month this time so the schedule below picks up where we are on the calendar right now. Check back soon for November's full calendar and updates as bands get added.
The giveaways start TODAY, so get to it...
THURSDAY, OCTOBER 22 Lovvers/ ZZZ Lovvers Post Punks hailing from the UK. "These kids are alright" Lovvers are a strange mix of music’s forgotten / blank generation, re-calling the spirit of Darby Crashes’ Germs, the weirdness of Flipper, Wipers style pop and the careless attitude of The Replacements; at one show a girl was so confused / annoyed that she wrote to KERRANG describing this music as “highly offensive, wanting to erase them from her mind." Offensive? Then it has to be good...right?
FRIDAY, OCTOBER 23 Birds of Avalon/ Loose Lips Birds of Avalon The monsters of North Carolina psycherock blow into the city with howls and roars. Testify. Loose Lips Don't say a word, let the blood shake your heart as DC's own shows you what you need to know.
THURSDAY, OCTOBER 29 The Heiz (Tokyo, Japan)/Love the Bomb This one's already FREE! The Heiz Shaku and Asako were members of the well-known Tokyo electro-rock band Milkteath while Kimura played drums for indie rock band Outside. Both bands released many CDs and DVDs, toured Japan nationwide numerous times, and appeared on several television shows. But Shaku, Asako, and Kimura couldn’t get any satisfaction…
The three members of “the heiz” first met in 2005 when their respective bands played together for the first time. Three years worth of jam sessions later and “the heiz” were born.
The theme of "the heiz" is "DO NATURALLY”. "the heiz" eat MUSIC and excrete ROCK’N’ROLL. "the heiz" want to make pure music, like the musicians that inspire them. “the heiz” really want you to hear their ROCK’N’ROLL.
Love the Bomb Sal used to be in Blondsai, Mike used to be in the Gamma Rays and still is in Geisha Lightning. One night they got drunk at a lackluster Jay Reatard show and decided to form a band.
Four times a day, often at half hour stretches...there’s plenty of time for reflection and the mind to wander. A song to sing. A record to recall.
Pete just sniffs along too. The perfect spot is here – no, there. Here – no, there. And no perceived lack of shame to be doing it outdoors at the height of the evening’s rush hour. Business men wind their way around Pete’s business.
I recall my dad saying goodbye to Pete the morning he left for the hospital before his heart operation. ‘I’ll be back...’ he said in his best Arnold impersonation, but didn’t return. So Pete became my mom’s dog alone.
My mom had her fall this summer and was yanked from her home by paramedics without, I’m guessing, a farewell Pete. And from what I understand, she hasn’t been asking for him from the Alzheimer’s wing of the nursing home at all.
So, four times a day, often at half hour stretches...he takes his sweet ol’ time.
Punk, Post-Punk, Rock and Roll, Jazz, Avant Garde, Rap and any other genre that sprung up in the 20th century never made a total break from any existing tradition. They only, in their own ways, redefined traditions and/or played with them. Sometimes this was done lovingly; sometimes not so lovingly. But ultimately, by tradition, one of these untraditional new sounds would be pressed up on vinyl as all other sounds before.
These were then circulated to the unsuspecting and unreceptive. Perhaps these unpopular children would languish in total obscurity only receiving a serious audience late at night in an older brother or sister’s room or as heard by a curious ear through the speakers of a radio tuned to a small college radio station. In this way good, but unpopular music hung around as electronic pulses generated off some scratches on a thin, circular piece of vinyl.
The yet-loved song would travel a complicated path through collections and parties and radio stations and families until one day its intended mark was found and a world was turned on its head. But only by physical presence has the innovative spirit of music persisted; perhaps made for the few at the time, but over time proving that the second act is much more important than the first.
Right now, being hip to vinyl is a way to ensure consistency in the way the generations talk to each other. Weird thought, that. But it’s important because there is no earthly way that someone is going to pick up an mp3 at an mp3 fair in 20 years time and CDs have already shown themselves to be simply shiny coasters. The internet has changed the way we all listen to and buy music with literally a whole world of music available at any time. Things move so quickly that some legitimately great pieces of work might be passed over before they have even had a chance to impress.
But without that solid tangibility--that fat chunk of vinyl--brings the chance that a great tradition-defying, transcendent work will escape recognition completely. Today’s artists understand that implicitly and as such, vinyl is again the medium of choice.
So here I am bending the old-time traditions of dissemination and trying to catch the great (and maybe not so great) pieces of forward-thinking vinyl on their way by on limited pressing runs and give them greater exposure via this monthly online column with new-fangled digital sound samples (now you don’t even have to hang out with your jerky older brother!)
Musique Non Pop is its name. I sincerely hope that other people will become excited by what we hear and in turn, also buy the record and then maybe play it for a friend or even their kids someday. Shit, podcast it if you must. Or at very least, if the tunes ultimately fail to excite, sell the record to a nearby shop so that someone might be lucky enough to discover a dollar bin keeper. Everyone knows E-bay is for thieves. The beat goes on.
And with that I say: “Welcome to my electronic living room.”
Dead Luke - Jumpin Jack Flash (Mp3) Record Two 7", Sacred Bones Records. Sometimes a cover is a measure of band (man) even if originals are mandatory in these ego-forward times. To take a rock classic and distort it through some heavy synth seasoning, taking liberties with it before dumping it in an industrial wasteland while somehow never really abusing it is right gentlemanly and pretty brilliant. Dead Luke is the alias of one Luke William Gasper who runs an excellent cassette-only label (a whole other blog) called Jerkwave Tapes. He promises a new album soon, "Cosmic Meltdown" on Troubleman Unlimited Records. Cheveu - Like A Deer in the Headlights (Mp3) Live on Viva Radio, Brooklyn, 2009. From tiny-town, Metz, France. Cheveu, along with such luminaries such as The Anals and A.H. Kraken, make Metz a good bet to unseat Brooklyn as the undisputed capital of world hipster cool. Here is a much more sonically agressive radio version of a song on 7" only from 2009 on Born Bad Records, Paris. Cheveu are one of the best bands out there. Period.
Having taken the time to rummage through 1,000 previous posts as I did last week, one thing has become apparent: I've COMPLETELY lost the plot to this whole endeavor.
But found a different one I didn't anticipate.
At the outset, the pipe dream was pretty standard—your one stop for vinyl news and reviews coupled with some personal anecdotes. Y’ know, the obvious bullshit. And I guess it could have been great if say, there weren’t a zillion of those sites out there doing just fine, thank you.
So it veered off somehow—less emphasis on the regular stuff and more toward the personal which seems to have struck a chord and resonated somehow. MY bullshit was more interesting than the regular bullshit. Who knew?
But as TVD’s grown in readership and expanded, I’ve sensed a disconnect—the general and personal are at odds and often clash here in tone and substance. The source material’s more the EXPERIENCE rather than the literalness of the vinyl medium for example, and mining that resource is finite. AND one note. (Mine.)
So, I’ll reiterate a plea to all of you reading this in your office cubicle today—share YOURS. Write here. Yes, this spot – (here.) Because I’m frequently told that it’s not the stuff we give away daily, the Mp3’s or the tickets or vinyl that keep some coming back, it’s the personal bent on what could have easily been distant and merely informative in substance and in subject that has ultimately resonated beyond what I assumed at the outset.
It’s a niche which I easily didn’t expect, but welcome nonetheless.
I’ll keep ticking away here daily, but know there’s a forum for you to upchuck whatever’s burning in there.
...that said, back to Lake Me.
My parents' dog Pete has come to live with us in TVD HQ. You’d be surprised at how much of the day unfolds before you among four walks daily. It’s grand indeed, the prattling of the brain and music recalled while you’re scooping poop.
...the one thousand post mark (...AND some serious symptoms of carpel tunnel. Ow.)
To celebrate this slightly auspicious milestone, we’ve got six of DC’s hottest bands who’ll be up in NYC next week, gigging and partying at CMJ.
We corralled them the same way the folks at CMJ did— through their Sonicbids accounts—and all were pleased as punch to send us the low down on where they’re buying their own records from in the District o’ Columbia:
True Womanhood We are big fans of Crooked Beat in Adams Morgan. From the extensive show fliers and bulletin boards by the door to the prime placement of local artists in their record racks, Crooked Beat makes it clear that they are invested in the DC music scene. True Womanhood - Magic Child (Mp3) True Womanhood - Dignitas (Mp3) (The brand new, as in released yesterday, digital EP.)
Title Tracks My favorite record store in the D.C.-area is Joe's Record Paradise out in Rockville. It's the largest vinyl selection by far and the prices are generally low. It's a very rare occasion for me to leave there disappointed. It's inevitable that I wind up having to put records back 'cause I've pulled so many and I'm going to wind up spending way too much if I don't rein it. A big part of what I like about the store is the variety that is found along with their depth. I've found gems in every section (rock, jazz, soul, easy listening, soundtracks, country, folk, etc.)
Middle Distance Runner Red Onion in Adams Morgan is a favorite of ours. It's a little walk-in basement place with a lot of cool, obscure stuff but also a good selection of affordable vinyl. The staff is friendly and helpful, and they let you leave out your own free CDs to promote shows, which a lot of record stores won't let you do. Middle Distance Runner - The Fury (Mp3)
U.S. Royalty We love Som Records on 14th St in DC. Neal Becton has some choice selections and it's got a cool vibe there. The owner also does a Brazilian night at the bar next door and his music taste is impeccable.
These United States Sadly now closed, my favorite record store in the DC area was Orpheus Records in Arlington - not the coolest place nor the place to find the record to impress your hip friends. Just a massive amount of pristine classic jazz and rock records and an equally knowledgeable staff. When I first moved to DC and started buying records, it was one of the few places I never left empty handed.
Bellflur Our first is Joe's Record Paradise in Rockville, MD. We love it because of the number of years that its been in business (approximately 30) and it remains this hidden gem of dusty vinyls and incredible rare finds. Also, its really close to the warehouse where we rehearse and record and develop the visual aspects and samples for our show. Old vinyl is just an inspirational medium in its own right.
However, since Joe's is up in Rockville, our go to place in the District is Crooked Beat. I discovered this shop shortly after I moved back to dc in 2001, and I immediately liked its aesthetic in comparison to the neighborhood in which it resides. Adam's Morgan is lively and diverse, sure... but I like that this viable, but overlooked medium is right under the noses of masses of people who couldn't be bothered with a music format if it's not quickly accessible and downloadable. The selection is great. The atmosphere is cozy. And the staff is always on top of their game. Bellflur - Gray Sparkle Finnish Pigs (Mp3)
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Now, you’d think after traipsing through the TVD archives this week, something OTHER than vinyl, or music even, is at work here daily. Well, not so.
From the 'Hey, I thought this blog was about VINYL?!' file comes this last retrospective look back at previous posts as we approach 1,000 posts. (Which happens uh, later today...)
Throughout her life, my mom has been a wonderful pianist. Entirely self taught and without the ability to read music, she could listen to most pieces and in moments play it back for you almost verbatim. It’s a skill she seemingly had to pick up as her father, a violinist and concert organizer, forestalled my mother’s desire to study and participate in the classical ensembles he’d put together each weekend in the family’s home in Newark, New Jersey.
And my mother never got over it. I think she’d say her father’s grand ego and perhaps chauvinism on some level was the mitigating factor, so mom set out on her own and in the 1940’s and ‘50’s joined various USO groups and began writing music for live, staged performances to welcome soldiers home from the war and those who’d later shuffle on off to further conflicts.
I of course didn’t know my mom in this guise—her musical endeavors having been set aside to raise two kids later on. But oh, the house was full of music daily and her weekend piano performances quite literally could be heard through the neighborhood. And it seems, even up until recently at 84, she was serenading the aides who’d come in three times daily to tend to her and make her meals. I’d hear quite often, “Jon – your mother is SUCH a wonderful piano player...” I’d nod and agree as I’ve heard this all of my life. Self taught, never read music.
In her absence last week, I sat at her baby grand which has followed her throughout her entire life. It’s been well maintained and the innards have been rebuilt many times over and it still rings pitch-perfect.
There was a notebook on top of the piano that I started to flip through and the header on the very first page took me back a bit. In my mother’s oddly singular longhand, she had begun the page with “Memory Lapses.” What followed was an enumeration of things she’d forgotten—some were merely actor’s names or songwriters of popular standards or movie titles. This list grew longer and longer as it became clear she was adding to it over time.
Most surprising however was that, with exacting detail amidst cross-outs and erasures, she’d begun to transcribe all the songs she knew by memory into basic scales and keys with the accompanying lyrics. Page after page, each one marginally less focused than the last until nothing was left but empty white lined pages in her notebook.
Responsibilities we understand, the body fitfully performs.
One of our absolute favorite bands here at TVD HQ, Art Brut is on the road in support of their new release “Art Brut vs. Satan” and the tour stops right here.
In DC. On Sunday. At The Black Cat. And we’ve got. Tickets. A pair.
But you’ve got only a tiny window to grab them as we need to have a winner by this time tomorrow. So, pen your pleas post haste in the comments to this post to procure the pair (with contact info!) We’re choosing a winner tomorrow (10/16) at noon!
"So many bands are just putting it on/Why can't they be the same as their songs?/I can't help it, I'm so naïve/Another record with my heart on the sleeve..."
This past December, under the guise of a little experiment here at TVD, I wrote that I, you, we spend an inordinate amount of time by ourselves in our daily lives performing those basic, mundane tasks that are the essence of being human--showering, brushing one's teeth, taking out the garbage...the list goes on.
In my teen years which are normally the most social of times, it seemed I'd go out of my way to retire to solitude after school and most oddly on the weekends. I wasn't a loner by any real stretch of the imagination...just sorta' kept to myself with the outlets being drawing and reading, for example. The major outlet however was: music.
I was reminded recently about "Things from England," Scott "The Professor" Muni's Friday afternoon 4-6PM radio show on New York City's WNEW-FM. I'd tape the entire show and later, on walks outside by myself or with the family dog, boom-box in tow, would listen to the program back as Scottso's voice boomed off homes braced for winter weather, buttressed by tall snow drifts that I never seem to experience any longer.
There's a quiet solitude within this winter weather I recall quite fondly when I'd head outdoors into the snow for a long walk around the block or up the hill where we'd sleigh-ride ...but long after everyone had gone home. Bathed in purple/orange streetlight--that was the place for me. And "The "Professor."
This week we're gonna go on some of those walks again with some of the music that, for good or for bad, became the soundtrack...
"Ah, but I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now..." (First posted on Friday, July 25, 2008.)
In the summer of '84, my Aunt Gerry and her husband, my Uncle "Turk", came to stay with us for two weeks...which JUST so happened to coincide with a new found fondness for slipping out the door and around the house for a puff or twelve.
My folks were a known commodity...I was in sync with their schedules, knew their patterns, and 99% of the time no one was the wiser. Gerry, bless her with her white zinc'd nose and terrycloth beach hat, was another story. Her patterns were erratic--one moment she's sunning herself out on the deck, another moment she's mixing whiskey sours. What to make of this? I was forced to wait it out til things settled down. And wait. And wait...
I count some of my finest moments on earth to be those when finally the lights went out and I snuck out into the simmering summer. Alone with the crickets and the fireflies in the purple light...y'know--thinking things over for the first time. I'd have played all these songs waiting for this moment and when slipping back in and returning to the same playlist, they sounded all that much better.
Gerry and Turk are both gone now and yet I think of that summer as the Last Great Summer when I had nothing but time to just...wait...things...out.
I'm sitting behind a drum kit that's littered with hay in the upstairs of a huge open air barn. To the left of me, the rolling hills of Virginia are blanketed in orange. We've just had a blistering rehearsal. I mean, it's really beginning to gel after all the months of practice. The new rhythm guitarist is fitting in perfectly and hell, with a practice space like this he could be just awful and I'd have him in.
Then ye olde bomb drops -- the front man and songwriter is moving to Finland to be with his girlfriend. "I'm getting too f'n old for this, man" I guessed, breaking down my gear. "Sci Fi Lullabies" was the soundtrack for that drive through the quiet, tense countryside back home to DC -- Fall, 1997.
