Take care of us. Please.

I've been thinking about this for a while now, and I'm sick of thinking about it at this point. So it's here.

5 Old School Records I Still Love... in no particular order:

The Regrets - New Directions: Results Beat Boasts - 1997

The Regrets came out of the remains of Vitreous Humor, also a band worth checking out. When I listened to all the Crank! stuff, they were a band I was interested in because of Vitreous Humor. One of the best things about it has to be Danny Pounds vocals. I think this was before his collapsed lung, and though it's been done before and will continue to be done before, it reaches a combination between singing and talking, sometimes separate, sometimes both. The lyrics are also great, and you can tell he reads a lot. And musically, the dissonant guitar, which is usually playing bizarre chords and imbibing in scraggly left-field acrobatics, just works perfectly. The lo-fi recording fits every instrument too. This was their only record. I interviewed Danny shortly after for the now-defunct zine Rocket Fuel, and the interview used to be archived online until I think about a few weeks ago. Since then, Danny Pound has gone kind of country. But if you can track this down, try to. After nearly twelve years, it still holds up so well.

Sweep the Leg Johnny - 4.9.21.30 - 1997

Sweep the Leg Johnny is one of the bands who really got me into music during my early high school years. I had a zine (even before Pitchfork I think, if such blasphemy can be uttered) called The Cupid Kidnap, where I, you guessed it, reviewed records. I was in contact with a ton of great indie labels and got great records to review, and none of them knew I was still in high school, which was nice. Though one time I tried to interview Don Caballero at a show in Cleveland, and Damon Che was a complete dickhead. The situation was later rectified when I called Ian Williams a few months later in Chicago, for an interview that's still on a tape somewhere that didn't get transcribed.

I don't exactly remember how I heard Sweep the Leg Johnny, but I then started talking to the singer / saxophonist, Steve Sostak, who was always a super nice guy. The first time I heard this record, on a shitty cassette tape I think, I fell in love with it. The recording's great, even for a a little studio in 1997, and each member has their own strengths they wholly contribute. There are rock bands with saxophones, but it works so well here. Chris's dissonant weird-ass guitar. Matt's rolling bass lines. Scott's awesome rolls and fills and subtle technicality on the drums. Steve also is a smart guy who you can also tell reads a lot, and it seems to show with his lyrics.

Somehow I was able to convince them to come to my hometown and play a show nearby in Mercer, where I ended up getting a few bands to come. They stayed at my house, thanks to my parents being awesome, did laundry, we watched Flatliners and they told me about some of the Chicago locations. I remember I had to take a vocabulary test the next day on Fahrenheit 451. I was a sophomore in high school. All of us were so pissed because the words were ridiculous, and the student teacher who gave us the test felt really bad. We stayed up late, I had to go to school and take a test, and my mom made them pancakes in the morning before they left.

If you have any old copies of Held Like Sound, I did an interview with them and John used my pictures from said show. Was that really over ten years ago?

Six Parts Seven - Things Shaped in Passing - 2002

Still one of the most beautiful records ever made. My first real breakup was in college, and she broke up with me. I was working for our radio station as a DJ wanting to work myself up the ranks, and I remember the day this promo came in. I immediately went nuts, having loved every single note they played before this, and put it in the CD player. I still remember the feeling I got when "Where Are the Timpani Heartbeats?" played. I knew that it would be a record I would forever be indebted to.

I recently posted pictures on my Facebook page from their record release show, in which they played every note from Things Shaped in Passing. Having obsessed over the record for months, it was, probably needless to say, one of my favorite shows ever. James Haas even broke out the screwdriver for the reverbed lap steel at the end of the aforementioned first song of the record.

One show (out of maybe ten or more I attended in the last six years) I attended with my buddy Wes (we saw a few) was a semi-disaster at the

I don't know what's going on with them: if they're broken up or on hiatus or back to work, but this record will always always get spin opportunities.

Castor - Castor - 1995

If someone asked me what record I've listened to the most during my lifetime, it would probably be Castor's self-titled record. Their first. Which is now nearly fourteen years old. Which is insane. One of the odd things about this record is that it should've been an EP, and not a full length. It's around 28 minutes long I think, and that's pretty damn short. But I think of a book of poetry like this in a way: it's so short that you always want to return to it. You never skip the first section and only read two and three. You never skip the last ten pages because by then it's just too much. It's the book that's 45 pages and wins a contests that's supposed to be a minimum of 48 because it's got its own small ass-kicking embedded soul.

I had a wild idea with a friend that we were going to start a label and put out a Castor 7". I had a feeling it would've happened if the band, like every band, finally spiraled toward the inevitability of break up.

Jeff Garber is now in National Skyline, who's clearly heavily influenced by U2. Check out his stuff. It's good.

We used to talk a lot on the phone. One time he told me he cheated on his girlfriend. Then he said, "Don't tell anyone about that." And then he paused. And then he said, "Though I don't know who you'd tell there." As a Podunk Pennsylvania high schooler, he was of course right.

One thing that pisses me off is the Castor mix tape he made me, which I remember listening to one summer over a week or so when I painted our garage. Pipe dreams later were discussed: a Castor double-CD anthology. So I sent him the tape without recording the amazing Castor songs that weren't released but were on the tape. So they're gone. But God this record's great.

Mercury Program - A Data Learn the Language - 2002

Another one of my favorite instrumental records. I remember driving into Richmond for the first time listening to this. Thanks again to Pir for letting me crash on his couch.

It's another record that has so many great moments. Inter-locked melodicism abound. Tons of technicality. Yet it still remains kind-of a pop record.

I had a chance to see them at the, not-surprisingly at this point, now-defunct Nanci Raygun in Richmond. I remember I ended up getting drunk instead. And the next day I was so pissed. They're supposed to be amazing live.

Check. Out. These. Records.

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Thanks to a friend, I realized Seth "Mr. Omnipresent" Abramson has this list on his blog.

Had I not already heard from Oklahoma State, I have to admit that I'd probably be freaking out just a bit at least. But it's still this murky pool of confusion, because everyone thinks if a date had already been chalked up and it wasn't you that got the call, then you're done. Out. No call or email.

But that's definitely not the case. Many factors are involved. Money. How many students they're taking. Letting their favorite picks know first. Waitlisting. Response times varying year to year.

One thing I'm thankful for: being done with my MFA. I've said it before in previous posts, but there's so much written about it now that it's almost become the cool and popular thing to do. So many more students in MFA programs = less and less folks succeeding. It's the nature of the beast, yes, but there are going to be a lot of sad students at the end of their two or three years.

Still I have six schools to hear from, which is nice. And Oklahoma State is giving me plenty of time to let them know, which I very much appreciate for that reason.

One of the things I tried not to do was look at lists of top schools. Or should I say, "top schools." I personally think all of that talk is hilarious, and I probably always will.

I remember one fairly prominent poet talking about a fairly prominent school in California, where she attended and then dropped out. As she told me, "I already had a book, so for some reason the students were gunning for me and needlessly tearing apart my work because of that." Was I there? No. Could I see this happening? Absolutely. And why, on God's green earth, would anyone want to have that kind of community at a school? I'm not saying everyone needs to go into the woods and become nudists and worship the earth with perpetual smiles about peace and love and a warless world, but when people are dicks like that, it just makes me sad.

And I know some of that goes on at other programs. Sometimes it's probably tough to avoid. But that's exactly what I do not want in a program.

Probably about a year into my MFA, I realized I was going to have to take it upon myself to figure out where I wanted to go and what I needed to do to get there. And thankfully I can use that wherever I end up for my Ph.D, and for that I am proud and excited and thrilled.

I know it's going to be a lot of work and a rough four to five years. But I want to get another book together I can send out to contests. Or who knows: maybe two. I'd like to write stuff that challenges my core.

And all these issues with money. Does an extra [insert here] grand matter if you're still not going to bust your ass and try to always keep pushing yourself? Nope.

Anyway, I find myself wanting to stop talking about all of this and then always picking it back up. But I'll let this lie for now as I continue to wait and hopefully have a chance to weigh some options.

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On the chapbook front, I've gotten it together and I think it may be ready for editors to see.

But what's the harm in letting it sit a while with so many poems from it still out in the world?

I feel like if I'm going to spend the money to send to contests, I'd rather throw Ghost Lights out there.

But my confidence is building. Maybe this is even the possible half of a new book. Who knows?

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I started watching The Wire yesterday, and realized I probably shouldn't start.

My conscious is saying, "Spend time with the poetry books and get questions out to the first book interview poets," and I think it's right.

So The Wire will be put on hold. Sixty-minute episodes are also a haul, especially with seasons of twelve.

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And apparently the film version of The Road is finished. Finally.

Don't get excited yet, since it'll probably end up being released at the end of the year.

I hope a copy leaks soon enough somewhere online.

Burned-out and scorched apocalyptic Pennsylvania.

I can't wait.

Mirrorful

I'm always back and forth whether I like David Mamet's movies or not. Glengarry Glen Ross is amazing to me, and I'm one of those folks on the bandwagon. The play's amazing, and the movie's incredible just as well. But I saw a DVD screener rip of Redbelt and, well, there's a reason why DVD screeners are thrown out there. So people don't waste their money on crappy rentals. I kept wanting to really like it, and yes, you're watching a Mametian world when you watch a Mamet film. But there were so many loose ends, seemingly miraculous -- and therefore nonsensical -- and forced plot grafts, and a pretty awful ending. I feel like it would've been better at either two hours and thirty minutes, or thirty minutes. With more TLC and better writing it could have been a contender, maybe. Or at a kind of pace like fighting. Blistering and all-encompassing. But as it is, somewhere in the netherworld middle, it doesn't work. Glad I won't be paying any kind of cash to see this.

I also watched Ils (or "Them") which was the influence for The Strangers, or so they say. Maybe spoilers ahead if you haven't seen either one, so you're warned. I think all in all I liked The Strangers better, but a combination of good elements from oth would have, ideally, made the ultimate flick. The Strangers was kept in check by the claustrophobic environment, using primarily the house as the main set. But only three of the attackers was a bit weird, and you wonder if they'd have been able to cause all the trouble. In Ils, it was a pack of kids in their early teens. Disturbed. Deranged. Whatever the reason. Ils, though, had the crazy tunnel scenes through the sewers, but it took a hell of a long time to get going for a movie that was really only 70 minutes long. I don't know if I'll be watching either again, but the comparison was interesting. They're no Suspiria or Texas Chainsaw Massacre of course.

Speaking of which, I wonder if David Gordon Green will be doing the Suspira remake? I'm not sure if the movie should be remade, even if it is by one of my favorite directors. We shall see.

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I started going through some of the discs I actually want to import into my Itunes and I found so many I haven't listened to in a long time. I may every once in a while do a revisit to an older disc that for whatever reason needs to be mentioned. This time it's the self-titled Jawbox record. It's one of my favorite rock records of all time, but even more it has some of the best drumming on it that isn't someone like Dave Weckl, Neil Peart, or Bill Bruford.

But Zachary Barocas is also a monolith in his own right. I'm not just talking about someone like Damon Che either where it gets proggy or seemingly poly-handed and furious. There's always a method to his madness, whether fast or slow, groovy or more D.C. hardcore. There's a judicous use of the higher end toms on this record and lots of groovy polyrhythms that never lose the beat. Plus the production (did J. Robbins do it?) sounds like it's from last year and this record's over 10 years old. I remember first buying it after seeing the "Mirrorful" video on 120 minutes. The song blew my mind. But I didn't get the record. That was after my punk rock phase, so I didn't get complexity yet. I wasn't used to good lyrics or discordant guitar playing.

Hilariously, I just found out that Zach also writes poetry, and has a book out. And yes, he has an interview with Kate Greenstreet. Why do I always discover this weird shit so much later? Either way. Good stuff. Chalk up another connection due to blogging.

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I keep seeing guys around Richmond that look like Joe Bolton. the big glasses, kind of scruffy hair, and just that same face. It's really odd. I get from much of the work in "The Last Nostalgia" that his ghost may have lived here. Much of the content in the poems remind me of Richmond. Maybe southern cities are interchangeable, or any cities for that matter, when it comes to the ghost of poets.