31 May 2024

during some tailspin turnaround


i kick rocks and skin cells,
pushing dust upwards and nothing out
the stain sticks to my skin

my every sigh is marble cracking,
or a sugarcube crumbling apart
i let the residue melt between my teeth

i have this street to myself:
in some faint faraway window, 
a cigarette siphons color from your lips



somewhere in the distance,
two birds kiss

poem 24.6.1

mayflower vitality






















anthropometry: princess helena, yves klein, 1960
museum of modern art

18 May 2024

'nothing gold' out now


yep. i was getting real anxious going 13 months without releasing new autumn rhythm material, especially when the end is nigh for college, but ultimately it was good to wait and figure these new songs out. a lot of them are written in tunings i invented. real fun to work those out, but it took a while...

live 24.3.15, photo by bade dagli
i started writing this record on my seventeenth birthday. it's probably our brooklyn record. i've never classified us as a long island band, even though the majority of us do live out here; we only started building anything close to a community around our music in brooklyn, which greatly influenced our direction and development. i've spent more free time in the city than at home this past year, and lyrically, this record reflects my recent interactions, good and bad, with the scenes and people i've surrounded myself with. of course, this record is also about horrible gut wrenching anxiety and depression, but every fucking 'shoegaze' album is now. whatever.


no song is about one thing only... i have a habit of writing a song and dedicating each verse to a separate emotion/person/idea. leaving lyrics online for this one already here, but i'll give some extra thoughts on each tune to celebrate the album's release.
 
hero worship is my favorite song on the record. the sample at the end is mags asking me to join a bill, sometime in may 2023.
novelty is a song about the past. this one should've been called 'hero worship II' on account of one specific harmony that i definitely stole from TNT's 'cartwheel.'
hang on is a reminder.
indisposed was sketched out on a 1995 fender stratocaster passed down from my girlfriend's mom, to my girlfriend, to me (for a couple of weeks in july). it's a real pretty instrument.
lit a candle talks about how new relationships change us in the eyes of people we've left behind, how deep
even the dogs- this song's title was inspired by a church sign in ridgewood, and dedicated to the late david berman (who i take some lyrics from for the chorus). first song i wrote for the album. jesse plays bass on it.
forgiver- i remember playing this riff over and over again while upstate with dusty, again on one of her mom's instruments. some of that made it into the end of this vlog about that trip. it reminds me of winter
catch up- i wanted to write something really loud, equal parts eric's trip and dinosaur jr. 
rest cure- i play some screwdriver guitar on this. isen lent some guitar to this track to give it some SY-esque guitar interplay, and i like how this track meanders in the middle like how one of their songs might. lillian sugrue, who's currently writing under big toothy grin, played some vocals. thanks lillian.
campfire- this song is for thomas kinkade, living room kitsch painter who also highlighted as a blathering, abusive alcoholic. 'kinkade' was in the running for album titles, actually. me, jesse, and our friend charlie lomonaco shout as one on the bridge.

lots of people made this album possible:
a heartfelt thanks to ryan shea, charlie lomonaco, lillian sugrue, tom oeffling, dusty+fam, jack, nora, krishna, maya, jayden, sam levine (as good of a drummer as you can get), bd&david, mom and dad. also, thanks to lydia slocum for the cover art, and dylan wall for handelling mastering. i'm honored to have worked with you both.

thanks everyone for sticking around. going to miss doing this quite a bit when it's over.
xo

13 May 2024

i flash my grandmother's smile


and say "i'll miss home-"

each crack in shared concrete
is an eye-corner wrinkle
well worn by people left behind

it'll be much greener than i remember
& i'll spend some solitary september
longing for pollen-springs turning over,
falling gentle at the speed of june

while i'm away, they'll stir:
so many somethings
hidden under their folds

poem 24.5.13

08 May 2024

steve albini, 1962 - 2024


fuck.

'a man who could identify 100 enemies as a sophomore in college'

i don't think anyone else in the history of 20th century music has had the impact albini did on how music sounds or is conveyed. such range, such vision; such philosophy, even.

was lucky enough to catch him in shellac around 2 years ago at primavera sound- perfect tension and release all around, and a buzzsaw guitar tone that sounds like your brain getting drawn and quartered. of course, it was always the dream to eventually reach electrical audio...

i think that the weight of this loss will only really hit a few years down the line, when records he's made stop coming out and stop penetrating music's wall of rockradio mono-compression. for now, i'll grieve and throw on some of the countless perfect sides he recorded- and play them loud

steve whipping a guitar into shape
some favorites:

ron- slint
i'm amazed- pixies
doe- breeders
mouth breather- the jesus lizard
milk it- nirvana
shimmer like a girl- veruca salt
nothing ever changes- braniac
farewell transmission- songs: ohia
wasted days- cloud nothings
my black ass- shellac
steak & black onions- rapeman
bad penny- big black

RIP