if you're gonna scream, scream with me.

me and high-school really didn't get along. god, i hated that place. and that time. i graduated from the ironically named Elmira Free Academy a full year early - june of 1993 - and in the 16 years (uhm, wow) since have annihilated or overwritten most of those memories. lately i've been thinking about that shithole again. about the kid i was, the music i listened to and how it got me to where i sit today*. as the youngest of my three upstate siblings tries to find her way to the light at the end of study hall alot of the weird memories of high-school have been flowing back in.

by the time i became one of elmira's finest achievers i was WAY into collecting punk tapes. do you remember that gigantic waterproof sony walkman that was YELLOW with the locking mechanism on the side? why was it YELLOW? why, when cassette tapes were tiny and light as feather did this thing have to be a goddamned dictionary in your pocket? why was it YELLOW? yellow is basically the worst color on earth (fresh pee) and somebody at sony thought, let's make that shit YELLOW and way way bigger than it needs to be! let's make a PISS BRICK! i wore the most enormous pants back then and i can still remember straight struggling to get that thing out of my pocket. luckily it had cutting edge AUTO-REVERSE technology so tape-flipping was less of an issue but still - can you imagine kids on capitol hill using one of these? i think the yellow would go over fine, but actually getting it into a pocket of the modern trendsetter would be a physical impossibility. perhaps an ironic fanny pack is the answer. i dunno. i can't help you.

the thing i remember most about that walkman was the way it looked loaded up with my misfits Legacy of Brutality cassette. while most cassettes were that weird metallic clear plastic this shit was BLACK. you know what else is black? DEAD STUFF. man the misfits were my favorite band right around the time i had this stupid ass yellow walkman. thinking about it now, the thing probably looked like a goddamn bumble-bee but i remember thinking it looked so completely badass. I would listen to Static Age, Legacy of Brutality, Walk Among Us and Earth A.D. over and over until the AA's died or the tape got eaten.** I had at least 3 Misfits t-shirts including the classic skull shirt and an Earth A.D. shirt with several bloody wolf-man- zombies hanging from a nooses. ***

nowadays cassettes are long gone and i'm not sure why this happened but the misfits never transitioned into the CD/record collection for me. i thought for a while that maybe i had lost or let someone borrow my misfits CD's but i'm realizing now that i never had them. just the cassettes. i guess i just started getting into other stuff around the time CD's came out / i got into records and i just never replaced these formative classics.

over the years my taste has really expanded. to think that i really only listened to punk for years and years is pretty astonishing. I often make the mistake, when thinking about my own experience with music - changing tastes etc. - of thinking that i'm the only one that spent his childhood feeling songs like MOMMY, CAN I GO OUT AND KILL TONIGHT?, HYBRID MOMENTS and BULLET - despite a real inability to understand what the fuck Danzig was actually singing. Seriously, could you tell me the lyrics to those songs before Google existed? I don't think so. The misfits were ferocious and full of attitude; exactly what i needed at the time.

In the years following my taste slowly morphed - from clearly punk music (dead kennedys, bad religion, misfits, sex pistols, black flag, minor threat, minutemen) into sometimes poppier emotional punk of the bay area (jawbreaker, green day, crimpshrine, mohinder) -into whatever the sam-hell it is today. along the way i discovered a guy named david pajo. mr. pajo is probably best known for his contribution to/creation of the post-rock movement as a member of Louisville band slint (Tweez, Spiderland) and later tortoise (the amazing Millions Now Living Will Never Die and TNT). even though i love and admire all four of those records it wasn't until i heard pajo play alone, stripped bare as papa M that i really fell in love with his music. Live from a Shark's Tank, Whatever Mortal, Papa M Sings, Songs of Mac and his six singles (entitled 1-6, all on drag city) are an exercise in delicate and deliberate song writing that is on the surface completely at odds with my early years as a connoisseur of punk rock. pajo's most recent release is a collection of misfits covers. listening to Scream With Me has filled me with such happiness. maybe it sounds dumb, HAPPINESS and MISFITS unlikely sentence mates - but this record, just feels like going home. it has forced me to contemplate where i came from***** in relation to where i am today. perhaps more importantly it reminds me that there are others out there that have traversed similar territory in terms of music and perhaps more importantly - in life. what's the goddamn dif i guess, right? the songs themselves are triumphant in their ability to transcend the inherent brutality of a misfits song to create something aesthetically beautiful. it's amazing what slowing the pace and tone of a song like I TURNED INTO A MARTIAN will do to the feeling it exudes. as each note crawls by pajo asks us to reexamine danzig's lyrics beneath the cold light of one's lifetime -

possession of the mind is a terrible thing

it's a transformation with an urge to kill

not the body of a man from earth

not the face of the one you love

i turned into a martian

i can't even recall my name

sometimes i never hardly sleep at night

i turned into a martian today

- there is newfound disaffection in the words as pajo sings:

i walk down city streets

in an unsuspecting human world

inhuman in your midst

- i still consider myself to be into punk rock. it's just another kind of punk i guess. another feeling. i think ray barbee sums it up pretty well****: "[punk is more of] a way of thinking...if you've got a heavy metal show and you book a jazz band in there, that's punk." pajo's fragile covers have gotten me thinking about what glenn danzig was trying to get across more than i ever did as a kid. in that way this collection of songs is a completely punk rock record and i am more of a punk now than i was then. fuckin' a.

it's the very best thing i've heard this year. I really can not recommend it strongly enough. It's a limited edition vinyl release (1000 pressed at 45rpm) and comes with free CD of the full record.

Here's the tracklisting:

Angelfuck

Hybrid Moments

Where Eagles Dare

Bullet

Teenagers from Mars

Devil's Whorehouse

I Turned into a Martian

Horror Business

You can and will buy it here.

*

**i was pretty proud of my ability to fix cassette tapes when i was a kid. i wore these fucked up thick plastic glasses when i was young and was always having to use the mini-screwdriver to tighten them and what-not - presumably due to the unnatural weight of the thick lenses. anyway i quickly discovered that this little tool could also be used to dismantle audio cassettes. i would repair a friend's damaged tape in exchange for a dub of some other album. i remember i would lay the tape on the table as if i was about to perform a triple bypass. i think i washed my hands first. i'd open it up and untwist the tape and even do splices with my mom's scotch tape. i remember one time i had this fugazi tape - it wasn't 13 songs because that wasn't on cassette - OH -margin walker it was - i had that all laid out and i need some scotch tape to repair it and i asked my mom - who sent me on this wild search through the basement for a mystery roll of scotch tape that was left over from wrapping christmas presents. i remember searching around, STRESSING that margin walker was splayed out all over the table (should've secured my surgical materials prior to making the first incision) - any old breeze could come by and blow everything all to hell. luckily that didn't happen and i believe the repair was a success. thank god, fugazi tapes were like 6$ and not available at sam goody.

***I also eventually owned a couple of danzig shirts including one from the 2nd record LUCIFUGE that had the outline of an upside-down cross on the front with the danzig skull inside it. On the back were big blood red letters that read GOD DON'T LIKE IT. hahaha, oh man, i'd wear that today if i still had it.

****

*****epicly later'd is a brilliant video series about skateboarders, created by patrick o'dell. ray barbee's episode is here.

Sometimes I Wish We Were an Eagle, Bill Callahan

It’s crazy to think that Bill Callahan put out his first Smog album nearly 20 years ago. To say that his records have had a major impact on me over this span of time would be an epically understated understatement. Over the years Callahan’s prolific and meandering vision has provided me with the soundtrack to days both difficult joyous. Smog has always felt alive to me – heartbreaking bitterness and disparity or blooming positivity and inspiration– there is a humanity to Callahan’s moodiness that is impossible to deny.





It’s tough to imagine getting through some of life’s shittier moments without the support of The Doctor Came At Dawn (1996), Wild Love (1995), and Kicking a Couple Around (1996) crackling in the background.








On the flipside, albums like 1999’s Knock, Knock, and Dongs of Sevotion (2000) are a testament to the simple beauty found just around life’s next corner (B-L-double-oh-D-F-L-oh-double-you, BLOODFLOW! BLOODFLOW!).


Sometimes I Wish We Were an Eagle, Bill Callahan’s second album since shedding the Smog moniker is his most ambitious work to date. Populated with all of the Smog mainstays – acoustic guitar, piano, cello and of course Callahan’s amazing deadpan vocals, Eagle’s instrumentation is focused much tighter than previous efforts.


While some may relish an apparent loss of rawness in his new work –Callahan is simply maturing as an artist. The bent unpredictability of the past has given way to purposeful arrangements and elegance.


Sometimes, I Wish We Were an Eagle contains some of the most amazingly understated guitar work I’ve heard in like, forever.


Country infused acoustics lay atop stringed arrangements to create a comfortingly orchestral musical backdrop.

Callahan’s lyrics are accessible – yet delicate and introspective as evidenced in Eagle's opening track "Jim Cain":

I ended up in search of/ordinary things

like how can a wave/ possibly be

I started running/ and the concrete turned to sand

I started running/ and things didn’t pan out as planned

“All Thoughts Are Prey to Some Beast” is an eastern influenced, dramatic throw back of sorts to the grittiness of Smog’s earlier albums. Lurching drums build below Callahan’s baritone and hints of distortion that recall “When the Power Goes Out” (Julius Caesar, 1993).

Just as the song appears to near full-blown explosion, strings bring ‘er back down to earth and remind us of just how far Mr. Callahan has come.






Originally posted to the KEXP blog.

Matt Ward @ the ShowBox Seattle, WA

about a month ago i started shooting photos and writing for local radio station KEXP. if you have ever spent any time in seattle you know that we're the best radio station west of the mississippi. actually, we broadcast from NYC too, so legally we can claim this whole damn country. below is a piece i wrote and shot for the m. ward show march 11, 2009.

Port O'Brien opened:

Sometimes music gives me insomnia.

Friday night at The Showbox California natives Port O’Brien opened for the Northwest’s own M. Ward (ok, technically he’s from CA too, but you had your chance; he’s ours now). Almost immediately Van, Cambria and the rest of Port O’Brien sent my jaw packing for the floor with their catchy, bluegrass infused folk rock. To say that front man/guitarist Van Pierszalowski’s delivery of these songs – many of which were penned aboard commercial salmon boats in Alaska - is honest and heartfelt – might be the understatement to end all understatements. Front man he is. Frontin’ he is not. Homeboy’s ability to belt out a red-faced chorus is matched only by the sincerity of his slower, twangier vocal deliveries.










It was about half-way through “Fisherman’s Son” that I started thinking this “song is going to get stuck in my head.”



I haven’t slept a full night since. The final nail in the coffin that is sleeplessness came during the band’s signature closing number “I Woke Up Today.” After distributing pots, pans and metal spoons to the audience Port O’Brien launched into one of the most raucous and memorable foot-stompers these ears have ever heard. Please send Sominex.


Primed and ready for more, the sold out audience welcomed headliner M. Ward with open arms. I don’t know that I have ever seen that many smiling Seattlites collected in one room.

From the weird hippy guy next to me eating dried fruit to the Samoan-Kirk-Hammett-with-John Waters moustache – M. Ward had us all eating out of the palm of his hand. Have you SEEN this man work over a guitar? As I stood there watching I actually thought to myself “that guitar is so lucky.” And that voice? His voice conjures thoughts of wood burning stoves and sleeping in. It’s hard to write about him without sounding like I’m in love. Floating back and forth across the stage, from guitar to guitar - then to the piano - Ward performed with the confidence and accuracy of a thousand man-crushes realized. After just over an hour onstage and two encores (Vincent O’Brien and an insanely perfect rendition of Roll Over Beethoven) it all came to a close.

What a night. Thanks KEXP!

originally posted here

lend me your ear. (an introduction)

i don't know what the hell is wrong with me these days. i thought i had it all figured out. i thought everything would be ok. goddamned better than ok. after 33 years i'm now beginning to realize that nothing is ever truly figured out. i guess i figured that out a little late. go figure.

some smart dude once said that "the only constant is change." i've gone through some changes lately that have landed me in some seriously sketchball territory. i'm no regret stricken post-op tranny or anything; i just feel pretty lost. i made some wrong turns and just sort of forgot who i was and what makes me happy. my brains got broken.

the crap to appear on these pages will be an attempt to acknowledge and chronicle the things in life that have always made me happy. made me who i am. the things in life that flip the middle finger at what that smart dude said about change.

i don't even really remember much before the age 12. that was the year i got my first skateboard. suddenly my four friends and i had something that no one else could even fathom. unbreakable solidarity. unending creativity and x-ray vision. it's like that minutemen song: skateboarding changed our lives. that grey future primitive gave me a reason to live. a way to get through 5th period. a way to endure small town high-school life. a way to get by with one parent instead of two. friends and memories that last a life time. even when lifetimes don't last as long as they should. skateboarding will get you through that too. i'm here today because of the skateboard. plain and simple. i love the way a skateboard feels under my feet. i wear vans. they are turning my feet into flippers but guess what,

i don't care because i want to feel my board.

it's under there: i'm ok.

if you don't like skateboarding, i feel bad for you. please look away.

skateboarding is what first got me searching around in life's cracks and crevices. looking for new, different things. something more. when you're a skateboarder you've got a vision that looks past what's right there in front of you. you wash right over generations of football, SAT scores, proms and the grateful goddamn dead. fuck the sediment, you're in the rapids now son.

soon after i got with the push-push i found the punk rock.

my dad used to take me to a nearby college town to skateboard. when he was in night school i would try to wallride. at least that's how i remember it. regardless of how it happened this string of events: the future primitive (w/boneite), x-ray vision, the dad in night school - it all led to me getting that first cassette tape. the first punk tape i ever owned was bad religion's "how could hell be any worse?"

I still remember handing it to my dad and watching him look over the
cover and scan the song titles.

fucking post apocalypse, inferno red cassette and songs like "we're only gonna die" and "fuck armageddon...this is hell." i had never heard them but this was the tape i somehow got my dad to fork over 9$ for. the underproduced raw attitude and intelligence of that tape forever jacked my mind on music. before that day my ears knew only of john cougar and huey lewis: the musical equivalent of cigarette-smoking-gym teachers and two kids at 20.

i'll always love my dad for buying me punk rock tapes.

that 9$ has bought me 33 years and counting.

music is the best and worst parts of life purified. black-tar-life-concentrate. these pages will make every attempt to get you to listen to the music that makes my head spin. i will force it on you with words, photographs, and context.

you will succumb.