love, in a house.

love these guys. Guy Chadwick's voice is in the same greatness as Tim Booth and Pete Fijalkowski for me. these are all from their 1988 Creation Records self-titled album.

piece

'and then we wrote our feelings on scissored leaves of paper, threw them into a hat, and one by one, handpicked our conversations like cut-n-paste pastiche...'

sunday bat day

viles on exile.

i'm a telephone wire-
strung and electrified
one way toll collect can kids
never busied
held in working order
never busied

my hands are overextended
quite often awkwardly met

(with empty dictations) 

you're a curator waiting for the painter
modern day damien-

i've just muddled too many colors in my watering mug
too youthful and expectant
never outgrown these deer parks
wandering, shot, trot ridden, marsh pills

phantom prancers, derby steeds

task mannequins, the day-to-day

businessmen guised in vintage band sleeves
working nines to rent quarters and welcome mats

never home
always working daughters
never home

exhausted continuance
necessary distraction

no commitment.
no commitments
this is no remittance.

staycations and train stops.
complaints and day spas.

i'm.

just.

trying.

to.be.

someone.

into which the discontent shrouded our masquerade

here i lay in the swallows of an unmade bed
amended from the warnings of an empty dusk recovery
no averted dreams
scarce repression

days stretch as far as my mind wanders
hovering manic distress like drum passages and
carefully plucked fingerings

from the lo-fi passengers in my head
whispering the decay of quiet
as resonance fills the air
and slits of sun specks devour the dark

i prefer my free time kept away
from the troubles of hapless screws
and trivial dull spurts
but the gems of solitarily intended calm
become inevitable casualties of emotional restraint

i need to see. people being seen.

i need to drink.

to remind me to enjoy silence and seeping alone.

too much time with mirrors, only cast shadowy followers
forcefully revolving doors, that whirlwind with circulation

constantly late to the dinner party,
perfectly content with standstill while in lieu of,
only later to regret the void of circumstance.

happy record store day!

i'm sure i don't need to advocate the importance of supporting record stores, as they are indeed a dying breed in this lurking internet age, and provide a service most downloads do not. do yourself a favor and visit whatever friendly record store is nearest to you today, for free live music and/or special limited releases from some of your favorite artists. i'll be at my friends' shop, SPIN RECORDS: and of course, what would a RSD post be without a shameless plug for my recently released record, 'prague over brooklyn.' GET IT!!!

sad & beautiful world.

olde friends

jammy smith

match makers

packed bags

i'm leaving. this. alone.

i'm dealing with the reality that you don't have time for me, or us.

(whatever form of us that exists in my mind or fact).

overextended and alone.

it's no longer enough to hold onto your breadcrumb trails.

i've got records to make, life to rearrange, people to call, shows to attend.

but i do love you.

but you knowing has been the problem all along.

in waiting, i've continued to keep myself, sick as inevitability dictates.

pete & terry

Pete Fijalkowski (Adorable, Polak) and Terry Bickers (House of Love) have collaborated on an album that i'm absolutely ecstatic about in its anticipation. Pete is one of my personal heroes musically, so seeing him crawl out of the darkness that is musical hiatus is nothing short of a relief. here's a few videos from their previous output:

ghostface still killin' kids...

please cherish great rap like this....

miss spells and musings

we have nothing to do with (sic) waiting, but we remain sick balloons. come see us next thursday for our last show (for awhile). FREE before 9PM.

farewell leucadia pt II

romanticized travels

we're re-recording this with the full band for an upcoming release later this year...for now enjoy the home-fi version. camper band balloons

gifted...

adrenaline brushes

the follies are all aflutter
damaging personas and asking prices
we will, with our sterile plans full of bottlecaps and wet mouths

speak all thee plagued and temperate of succumbed settlements and forthright left field decisions

beginning at zero, work your way backwards,
until the future is but a speck in the eyes of our mortality

then you will wonder, where oh where did my youth spark digress?

i am art bandages worn and susceptible to bends and folds
barely held by the fishermen's knots
rolls and fancies
skulls and ambulances
still here after the medicine wore off
quarterly fines and pharmacies closed

this is the fix, to be plain in sight and out of minds.

what i've been listening to the last few days...

go grab this next tuesday. i most certainly want to! he's playing the Casbah april 12th!!!!