My friend and I used to fall asleep to the flicker of the TV in our high school years. Every night we would stay up late and watch the first segments of the Late Late Show with Craig Kilborn until we could no longer muster the energy to keep the weight of our eyelids up. And thus, we soundly and securely fell asleep. If you asked us why we felt this affinity to Craiggers – I doubt we could articulate in words, but perhaps we could draw you a picture to help explain it. It was like a warm blanket covering over us as we drifted off to sleep only to wake up the next AM to head into the
Love Letters
The Visage
Crushed Human Bones
All Soul, No Search Necessary: The Mainliners
In 2007, a much younger me sits silently, perched on a black-lacquered stool in an awkward pose. His legs extend upward towards his chest, because, you see, the rungs of the stool are set a little too high, forcing the young man into a most un-flattering semi-squat. Refuge from tortured soles maybe, but most totally grotesque and unattractive. This particular furnishing is an antique, but uncharmingly so. Chips in the shiny black coating, reflecting in panes of silky even light, only to be broken apart by harsh chip marks, solid evidence of heavy usage and abuse, and apropos obviously, for the human condition. This skinny memory is the security guard for one of the many Madison Avenue Upper-East Side fashion-peddling installations.
Beach Slang, or: How I learned to Stop Worrying and (Try To) Love the Sincerity
Growing up a punk rock kid is filled with dichotomies. On the one hand it is all honesty and expression while on the other it is draped in leather and scowls. On one hand there is finger- pointing and sing-alongs while on the other is the merch guy (or girl) that intimidates you to buy an LP for fear of… I don’t know…. I can only speak from personal experience of course but I always found these two contrasts pulling at me any time I put on a record or went to a show. If I dropped the needle on a new L(P)ove I often times had trouble wanting to convey this to friends. The side of me that wanted to constrain my passion was
You Cannot Replace That Memory – On Cheap Girls
When you get into your late 20s and early 30s, I’ve always believed that you’ve made all the friends you’re going to make for life. Sure, I mean, perhaps some new acquaintances come in like a breeze and then quickly exit… but the stalwarts, the dependables, the drinking buddies have been firmly established and little can change this. Now into my 30s I have come to realize that this is pretty much accurate. Oddly enough, I had also assumed this to be true of bands. What I mean to say is, the bands that I had been collecting and treasuring like a mint condition baseball card or a cherished photo or a memory of first drinks and awkward kisses… well I