Humans are born with the desire to roam the earth. We crawl, then walk, then run. All in an effort to move further away from where we came from: from home. I know firsthand the thrill of what changing ones surroundings can do for ones heart. And now I also know that staying home and letting others go can be it’s own fantastic journey. Because when you let go of something, you make room for something else entirely, something you never expected. Something that makes home seem like it’s own unexpected adventure. A trip where new treasures are found around every old corner. Where the world, in all it’s complexities, come right to your doorstep. Because in the end, the power is not just with those who go away, but also in what they leave behind.

a glitch or two

You spend the first five years trying to get with the plan, and the next five years trying to be with your friends again. —James Murphy, LCD Soundsystem


i know i've come to a point where i need to completely cut people out of my life in order to really move on. things aren't the way that i remembered them. and apparently i'm the enemy in a battle i didn't even really know existed until too late.

has ignorance played a large role? of course. sometimes being too busy blinds people to many things. and then when life slows down, you're left with whatever is to be salvaged from the damage that was never meant to be caused.

i've realized that nothing in this city will ever be like it used to. and it's beaten me up every minute i don't occupy myself with distractions. perhaps that's why i try and fill my life up with as much busy work as i can get.

it's time to let go, no matter how much i want to hold on to that idealistic view of what was, i can't. because i need to remember that what i was holding on to was such a small piece of time; just a minor glitch in the grand scheme of things.

and i just keep telling myself that: a glitch.... just a minor glitch...

and it hurts a little bit less.










a few weekends ago i got away from this city. i spent two days in nyc. as soon as i got back on the subways, i missed it more intensely than i ever thought possible. everything i once despised about it a year ago, i loved at that moment. i wanted it back. i realized that the only reason i gave it up was to go travel the united states of america in a van full of musicians. and i never looked back. and i was never back since. but now that i've re-visited, i want it again. of all the places to be malcontent, nyc might be the best. distractions are easy to come by, and there are plenty of people to fill those empty voids, if only temporarily. in two days, i got two apartment offers and 1 viable job opportunity. why shouldn't i go back?
and then i remembered my personality. and that as soon as i moved back, i would want to move away again. so i've saved myself the hassle. and i'm continuing to get through each day here. not remembering how it was, but thinking of how it can be. of how i can make it the city i've always wanted to be a part of.

just a minor glitch...

and then before i know it, i've forgotten everything about it...

five notes, brought to you by the new york half

1. Werkestatte is open. The space is lovely, the current exhibition by Robert Rahway lovelier, and the gallery's co-owner is the fairest of them all. If I knew anything about art (or writing), I'd write about it all, but I don't.

2. When I tell people about my new job, the recognition of the label name is not instant. This is normal, but the look of disbelief on their faces after I namecheck a few of the label's top artists is not. And for a certain sort, it's not a "congratulations, that's a great job!" look, but a "why on earth would you sell your soul to the devil?" kind of look.

To a certain extent, I can understand that kind of look; at the same time, it overlooks a hell of a lot of details (as I suppose most things do.) That I don't care to try to find myself a place working for bands I really enjoy is the result of many lessons learned over the past six years. I've worked for amazing bands who never saw a dime from their releases, for amazing bands who turned out to be assholes, and for amazing bands that should have been huge but for the fact that their fans just can't be bothered to buy music anymore. It's been in the last couple of years that I've learned that some of the best things I've worked on and learned the most from are releases that I can't personally relate to whatsoever; for me, it's all about giving myself a chance to learn more and to have more opportunities for effective marketing strategies. It's about opening doors by way of having established names and a successful catalog. And it's far too early in the game to say this with certainty, but it's also about having a staff that's actually well-put together and communicative enough to really get things done.


At the same time, I feel like you can say whatever you want about the quality of the music generally found on modern rock radio, but there's one thing you can say for their fanbases that you can't say for a lot of amazing bands on the fringe. These fans buy records. The sales numbers prove it; the fact that my mom actually owns a CD by one of these bands is a great place to start. It's amazing to be able to think of new and creative ways to bring a release to people's attention and know that there's actually a market there for it. For whatever reason, these bands have a certain level of loyalty attributed to them.

(For a long time, I thought people listened to modern alternative rock because it's what was presented to them, as if they were being force-fed. I know a lot of people who still have this opinion, and I think it's both alarming and a bunch of bunk. You can lead sixty million people to an album, but you can't make them buy it unless they really want it.)

At the end of the day, I've always carried a certain level of naivete about me when it comes to my work environment, but I'm quite convinced that that's what's kept me from being one of those people who hates the very idea of having a job. This leads me into a completely different segue, but first I would like to note that as lovely as the "new Radiohead model" is, I think it's complete bullshit that early stats show only about half the people ordering the record are paying for it. What was that I was saying about fan loyalty? That seriously makes me ill to think about.

3. On the subject of "having day jobs", I've long had a running argument with a friend of mine who cannot understand why in god's name I would want to have one. (My argument for it is really very simple - working for someone else gives me the stability that someone with a chronic illness and a shit ton of student loan bills needs. I could add to that a number of things, including my fondness for routine, my general appreciation for having a higher-up from which I can learn new things, and the fact that I'm not smart or creative enough to have my own thing going.)

That said, it seems funny to me that we're currently at a breaking point in our business relationship where I've realized that what's making me most unhappy is the fact that I'm working for someone else. There's only so much creative input I can have when I'm battling other voices; there's only so much I physically have time to do; there's only so much I can take, period. And at the end of the day, a lot of my hard work translates into a finished product that I'm totally blase about, while I struggle to make time for any ideas I have on the side.

(It is my general belief that I pile things on to my plate in order to ensure that I never get to those ideas on the side, because I don't believe for a second I can carry them out. This has been today's completely disheartening theme, and I wouldn't be surprised if it has some link to the fact that I have been so nauseous all day I could barely make it down the street for a Gatorade.)

But I am not a quitter and I don't give up all too easily; I'm questioning decisions even as I'm thinking they were a long time coming. At the same time, I feel like I'm on the verge of literally ending a marriage. I have lived alongside this other person for years, and we have been remarkably close; it is because we have always clicked that we ever did business together in the first place. It is because we care so much about each other that we've been able to work things out for so long, and it's because I care so much that I've spent my week silently torn up over the feeling that what I'm doing is not quite right, but that I can't continue on like that.

(And possibly, worse: the feeling that there was absolutely no one around to talk to about it.)

I will say this: any marriage is hard, whether it's a paper one or a marriage of the minds. It does, however, not seem worth throwing away when someone sends you a text message and adds at the end "I'm in Canada and this is costing me a lot of money, so you know I love you."

4. Let's not talk about my oven and how the new one I have been promised is nowhere in site. Trust me on this one, because I cannot think of a single thing that makes me angrier or more unhappy. (And I can think of a lot of things right now that make me angry and unhappy.)

5. This is all to say that all I ate today was a banana, so I'm surprised I'm not hallucinating pink elephants at the moment. How people can fast is completely beyond me, because girl cannot live on vegetable broth and Gatorade alone. Being sick - particularly without a butler of some kind - can go to hell.

music writing: a manifesto

I don't pretend to know shit about shit, when it comes down to it, but it seems to me like there are a few basic things that one should take for granted that most people don't.

1. If you can't write, don't try to write about music. What the fuck makes you think your writing is going to be any better if you're trying to write about music? Writing about music - writing specifically about any one subject is going to be inarguably harder than writing about whatever. If you can't put a proper sentence together - that includes things like oh, you know, grammar - please don't bother.

2. Please do not go out of your way to weave some magical sentences about what you're listening to and describing the way the music floats on the air and makes you think of the fairies flitting through the trees and the delicate little summer blossoms sway through the breeze and then the entire universe sings in unison.

Or, rather, when you are done weaving those magical sentences, re-read them. Do they say a single fucking thing about the actual music you are listening to? If the answer is no (and the answer is probably no), then make them go away. Don't delete them, necessarily, just save them in the folder where you're writing your book about the fairies flitting through the trees.

3. Hi, it's called word count. If you don't know how to use it, I would be glad to show you and so would that little paper clippy thingie in Microsoft Word.

4. Please do not use a music review as a thinly veiled attempt to talk about yourself. There are timeswhen talking about yourself can be a great and incredibly revealing way to talk about the music, but if you don't know the difference, then probably you're doing the former.

5. Please do not assume that the writer of the song and the narrator of the song are the same person. I don't really have anything to add to this one because I have no idea why you would make this assumption in the first place.

6. If you're not willing to meet a deadline or edit something when asked - or at least to explain what the fuck you're talking about - why do you bother? Why would you do anything if not with a conscious attempt to continually be better at that thing?

This is all not meant as a slight against any one person, but as a general exercise in frustration because I genuinely do not understand any of the above. I don't profess to be good at writing myself, but I am constantly trying to be better. I know even less about editing, but the harder I try to do my best, the more I realize that most people don't give a fuck.

That's what this is really about. At the end of the day, I want to know that the hours upon hours that I spend putting all of this together are worth a damn, and lately it sure doesn't feel like it.

washing. packing. moving.

i'm back to pennsylvania, surrounded by boxes that want to be unpacked.

little do they know that they have another move ahead of them.

five day vacation

it seems that we've found ourselves with a five day vacation. the next week of shows have been canceled due to numerous problems. last night we made the overnight drive from detroit to ithaca and this morning i woke up on the floor of our singers parents house.
the past two nights we've stayed in sketch ball hotels/motels (it seems that i had jinxed myself with the previous post). one smelled like a dead hooker, the other felt like i walked into a hallway of the shining. in both chicago and detroit i was able to see two friends who i had never seen on their home turf before. it was quite nice, as i hadn't seen either of them in over a year.

i'm feeling groggy at the moment. i'm getting phone calls regarding my next years profession, reminding me that this will all be over soon. and i've got that sick feeling of leaving in my gut; of the goodbyes i make so often but am not ready to make this time.

i suppose i'll see everyone from ny soon. that will lead only to more goodbyes.

the end of tour is suddenly coming to a close.
and i don't think that i'm ready for it to be over.

late nights|early mornings

you are a traveler at heart. there will be many journey's. —kansas city fortune cookie

the eggshell walls, the cliched hotel room artwork, and the white sheets of a marriot that used to scream of an odd unfamiliarity that attempts to fill in the comforts of home have now become well known and calming to me. because of a family discount rate, we end up here more often then not, piled into these now familiar rooms when we know no one in whatever land we're currently visiting. it's generic and un-personal, and i would much rather stay at a home of a friend or friend of a friend so that i can get up while everyone else is still sleeping, take my cameras and explore the foreign land. instead these hotels usually lay in some kind of corporate or industrial park miles outside of the actual city. but i can't really complain, now can i?

as much as i enjoy each person that i'm touring with, i'm yearning for alone time. most of the people in this band are extremely book smart, discussing everything and anything they possibly can, which sometimes goes straight over my head. it really is wonderful to have such intelligent news hungry people surround me. not only do i take in information that i may never have without them, but it has given me the chance to be able to fully realize what i only partially knew for a long time: i'm not a conversationalist by any means. i don't add or chime in when i know i might have something to contribute. i either just take it all in silently or am lost in my own obscure thoughts to really pay any attention. for better or for worse, i am what i am.

as tour manager i struggle with my own setbacks and selfish desires in order to keep everyone else in line. i've always been an organized person, and can admit to an odd OCD when it comes to certain kinds of cleanliness, but for the most part the creative side of my brain just wants to take over, become selfish, and indulge in the experience as it's given rather than be in charge and run it. each night i restrain from drinking, keeping myself in check to transport everyone safely to whatever destination we might have. each morning i get up long before the others, organizing myself before attempting to organize them. slowly i wake each person up (in order of difficulty, easiest to hardest of course) and coax them into taking a shower or get ready for the day of driving/playing ahead of us.

last night i was informed of some sad news from the homeland. please help out if you can. spending so much time in a van touring around is more dangerous than people sometimes lead themselves to believe. please help out if you can.

less than two weeks until i'm back to stable living. i can't decide whether i'm excited, or extremely sad.

i guess i'll find out soon enough.





sunrise, somewhere in colorado