decaf - P.R.A./Nervous Fingerfood EP

There were 2 songs that never made it onto decaf's Self-Titled Cassette EP when we recorded at Miami Street Studios. I believe these songs did not make the cut because of the mistakes made in our "one take" guerrilla style of recording. Ironically, these were 2 of the most liked songs we played... just ask Alisha.

"P.R.A." - This was the very first song that Mike and I wrote while studying architecture in Rome. This is the song that started the "you whistle & I'll play guitar" style of writing that we endorsed while living there - mostly because we could not afford 2 guitars. For some reason I think I was heavily influenced by Screeching Weasel at this time. When we brought this song back to the states and played it for Rob, he immediately came up with the tongue-in-cheek title of "punk rock anthem." Mike and I traded guitar and bass duties for this one.

"Nervous Fingerfood" - This is one of the songs that Mike wrote while we were living in The Box. Mike asked Ricardo to name the song and he blurted out "Nervous Fingerfood" - don't even try to look for a reason... because there is none.

Thanks for listening again - we'll be posting some live decaf material soon. I actually stumbled upon another show we recorded at Dalloway's that I never knew I had - some good stuff coming up. Oh, and thanks to Julie for the cover photography again!

--Brian

listen/download:


see also:
decaf on MySpace

The Sister Chain

The History of The Sister Chain*

It all began in 1971 - 1972, when we were born.

Then a bunch of stuff happened.

And eventually, The Sister Chain (TSC) emerged on the Saint Mary’s/Notre Dame music scene in the fall of 1991.

The group, an acoustic-based, all-female ensemble, was made up of the following: Kate (née Beck) Clark on vocals/guitar, Michelle Godwin on vocals/bongos, Erin Hardin on vocals/guitar, Erin (née Grefenstette) Henninger on vocals/percussion, Meghan (née King) Johnson on vocals/guitar, and Maureen (née Richerson) Parlier on vocals/keys (however, we all switched up instruments a bit depending on what we felt compelled to do). Mo Richerson left the group after the first year or so, so you will note that any later recordings don’t have any keys/synth in them.

TSC often invited other guest musicians to play with us from time to time, too—to mix things up/fill up the sound/have a good time, etc., e.g. Mike Dumbra on electric guitar and Kris “Bonch” Bonitatibus with the sticks (both of ND Earl’s Court fame), as well as a guy from ND named Dave, whose last name totally escapes me at the moment – sorry DAVE!!! (BTW: Dave was the one who helped me to splice in recordings of my then 4 year old niece singing some of her own original tunes on the debut The Sister Chain tape, which was recorded live at Dalloway’s on Sept. 9, 1992. Also BTW, we had 2 lovable co-managers, Mary “MB” (née Barger) Dirksen and Bridget McCourt, who faithfully dubbed and sold said cassette tapes for $5 piece. And a final point of interest: MB and Bridget also established a checking account in the name of The Sister Chain, which I—I must admit it—thought was pretty cool. Seeing our band name on checks made us feel totally legit. ;-)

Anywho: one of TSC’s proudest, most historical moments was when we served as the entertainment for the grand opening of the original Dalloway’s Coffeehouse on SMC’s campus. We have a recording somewhere from that venue (cassette, of course), where the Dalloway’s founder, the fabulous Margaret “Peggy” Abood introduces us as “Sister Chain.” And then you hear her being corrected by quiet-as-a-mouse Ms. Hardin (what would you expect from a woman from New Orleans?), gently insisting that it’s THE Sister Chain, not simply Sister Chain (so don’t you ever forget it! ;-)

We had the great joy and honor of playing with many great musicians (some of whom are mentioned above) during that heyday of the SMC/ND music scene, and took much pride in being the only SMC “band” at the time (maybe first ever?). Hey, we even got 3rd place at Battle of the Bands one year at ND (much to the chagrin of many, I’m sure. lol!) Another funny thing: we actually co-headlined with Chisel at Dalloway’s once, do you remember that guys? Below is the flyer to prove it (mocked up by yours truly).



So back to the she-story (hhh!): All of The Sister Chain gals attended SMC, and all of them spent the year of 1990–91 studying abroad in Ireland together, with the exception of Kate Beck Clark. While in Ireland, Michelle Godwin, Erin Hardin, Erin Grefenstette Henninger, and Meghan King Johnson spent countless hours hanging around at their homesteads singing and playing guitar, often joined by lots of locals (lots of traditional Irish songs, classic folk songs, Indigo Girls, and originals going on). We also provided the music at mass regularly at St. Patrick’s College (Maynooth), where we attended, along with Seanie from Co. Sligo. (Props Sean, wherever you are! ;-)

Upon returning from Ireland, during the summer of ’91, Meg & Kate (both from Pittsburgh) got together regularly and started cranking out some tunes, with the intent to perform at SMC/ND upon returning there in the fall. Kate had a history of being in bands since high school (The Happy Accidents) and also during our freshman year of college (Ed’s Painting Company). She and Meg also enjoyed time together during high school and college choir (geeks! ;-) Kate was (is) an accomplished pianist, and also had a regular gig as an accompanist at church on Sundays at SMC. (Hmmm... so it seems we owe a lot to The Church for keeping us in practice...). Anywho: Meghan started learning guitar in the sixth grade, and after leaving it alone for awhile, started dedicating herself more seriously to it the summer after her senior year of high school (kudos to Ben Means for giving me lessons, again, wherever you are ;-).

Upon returning to SMC’s campus in the fall of ’91, Kate & Meg found out that Michelle, Erin & Erin were intending to put a group together themselves. So, we said: “What the heck? Let’s all do it together.” (Yeah – that’s pretty much verbatim. Lol!) And alas, THE Sister Chain was born. (We invited Maureen to join in knowing that she was also an accomplished musician and singer.)



Oh the name, you ask? Yes, everyone wants to know where our name came from. ;-) Well, of course, we thought it would be cool to have something that represented the sisterhood of all of us being from Saint Mary’s. We were also a bit into the neo-hippie-Grateful Dead thing at the time; you know: the imagery of people running around with daisy chains, calling each other “sister” and “brother” and stuff like that. (Yeah: hokey to the core, I know.) Anyways: I was big on calling the group “Sister Betty,” in honor of the nun who organized the church music at SMC that Kate and I were doing at the time, though Kate was afraid Sr. B might take it the wrong way (though Sr. B later confessed that she would have been honored ;-). At any rate, we obviously compromised, threw it all together, and The Sister Chain was named. You know how compromise is: everybody gets a little bit of what they want, but no one really gets what they want – lol. At any rate, it worked well enough. That could probably be the theme of our entire history together, now that I think of it – somehow, despite, all of our differences, we made it all work.

OK, I am philosophizing now, but it really was special. Anyone who has ever been in a band or ensemble or group of some kind knows how special it is when a group somehow comes together and manages to hang together. It was tough after we all graduated, because life threw us apart, as is natural upon graduation. We knew it was likely that we wouldn’t all be playing much together again, if at all, after playing several shows and venues for two solid years. While at SMC, we had pretty regular gigs at Dalloway’s, and then on top of that, played anywhere and everywhere else that we could – every kind of benefit (MLK Day, Women’s Day, whatever), every house party invite, every special event (@ both SMC and ND alike, e.g. Hogstock, Battle of the Bands, the SU, etc.), and then of course came that magical moment when were able to move on to and to start playing pretty regularly at the infamous House of Moe (aka Club 23). Talk about good times, good music, and good friends. We pretty much adopted that place (in addition to Dalloway’s) as our home. So, if there was a theme to our closing, it could probably be summed up as “bittersweet,” which fittingly was a Big Head Todd and the Monsters cover song that we often did.

Speaking of songs, we did do a lot of originals, but also a lot of cover songs, too – all with our own personal stamp of course. We did both originals, and original versions of cover songs, largely because of our own musical limitations! Seriously: we never pretended to be musical virtuosos: we just liked to get together, and sing, and have a good time, and provide some enjoyment for other folks, too, while we were at it.

I’m pretty sure that our first official, original Sister Chain** song was “I’d Do Anything,” followed closely by “Night is Blue.” Michelle G wrote the lyrics to “I’d Do Anything” while we were in Ireland. I distinctly remember being in the basement of LeMans Hall at SMC one night, early in the fall of ’91, sitting around in a circle toying around with how we would put the words to music. I tried to roughly imitate what some musical friends of ours in Ireland had done with it one night while playing around (shout out to our Miss Judgment friends! ;-). Then we started throwing in harmonies on the chorus (our “unique” vocal arrangements was probably our forte). Then Mo Richerson threw in a cool synth intro at the beginning. Then, I’m pretty sure that the lights went out, but we kept singing anyways. When the lights came back on, another SMC-er, someone whom we didn’t know, walked in, totally flabbergasted, and said something to the effect of: “Is that you guys singing? Is that your song? You guys sound awesome.” It was a good source of encouragement. Do you girls remember that the way I do?



Incidentally: LeMans had some spaces with some good acoustics, which helped, I must admit. In addition to the LeMans basement, we also practiced frequently in the LeMans Chapel, which is somewhere up on the 3rd or 4th floor. I don’t know if this is the case now, but at the time, it wasn’t utilized very frequently for official functions, but the door was always open. And it was (still is?) a gorgeous, dark-wood, double-floor chapel – I think there might even be a full pipe organ in there? There’s definitely a balcony. So, like I said: good acoustics. It was in that very chapel that we auditioned to be included on the SMC/ND music compilation CD (remember that Ryan?). We were pretty excited to be included on that CD; our first (and now that I think of it, only!) CD recording, professional studio, publicity photos, etc. Funny thing: CDs were really just starting to come out at that time, so this was a big deal all around. ;-)

Some of the other mainstays in our “originals” repertoire (in addition to “Night is Blue,” like I already mentioned) included: “September Song,” “Seamus & Shoelaces,” “My Name Is Sky” (which is on the ND/SMC Incubus compilation CD), “Sunset,” “I Remember,” “The Green Grass Turned Blue,” and “Ceres.” There were lots more though. In fact, Mike Dumbra, whom I mentioned earlier, recently sent me mp3s of virtually all of our original songs. So if you want copies, hit me up.

Some of our other mainstay cover songs (in addition to “Bittersweet,” which I already mentioned) included: “Black Boys on Mopeds” (Sinead O’Connor), “Mother” (Pink Floyd), “This One Goes Out to the One” (REM), “Walk on the Ocean” (Toad the Wet Sprocket – whom we hung out with after they did a show at ND’s SU, which was very cool ;-), and John Denver’s “Jet Plane.” We also threw in some traditionals from time to time, like “Red Is the Rose” (Irish traditional) and “Scarborough Fair.” So yeah: it pretty much ran the gamut; we were interested in all kinds of music. If there was a song that struck our fancy for one reason or another, we figured out how we could play it and make it our own. Good times, for sure.



But alas, as I mentioned, graduation and our impending end was inevitable. Here’s how it all shook out—that is, if my memory serves me correctly (God, I’m getting old – please pardon me folks if I get any of this wrong – I know that I will be duly corrected ;-) :

After graduation, Meg & Kate went back to Pittsburgh, continuing to perform as a duo, and eventually, looking to expand their sound, joined up with some other folks, including Tom Emmerling, the drummer of ND’s Palace Laundry, who is also a Pittsburgh native. We christened ourselves “Dolorous” (naming your band after a female was popular in those days; see “emiLy”). After about a year or so, Meg left the group to get married and go to Japan to teach English, which is right about when “Dolorous” took off, after re-naming themselves “Bitter Delores” and adding some other members. Bitter Delores became pretty big on the Pittsburgh scene, and stayed that way for awhile. After several years, that group also met its end. Kate is now happily married, still in Pittsburgh, and I think, now has her master’s in music education. At any rate, I know that she is still doing music in one form or another. We (meaning myself, Meghan, & Kate), have even played out together a couple of times over the last couple of years – doing both old stuff & new – primarily in the Morgantown, WV area (WVU music scene). This is primarily because I, Meghan, have been living in West Virginia for about 10 years now.

Oh, what am I doing you ask? ;-) Well, whilst in Japan, I continued to play and write music, even gave a few lessons. Upon returning, I spent four years in the Minneapolis-St. Paul area, continuing to hone my skills – even took some guitar lessons in Dinkytown (cultural area of the University of MN), where a young Robert Zimmerman happened to hang out awhile back. My husband and I moved to Mpls-St. Paul largely because of the great, grassroots arts scene (which we were both familiar with), and while there, I expanded my “performing” to include acting as well, which I have continued to do, along with my music. Suffice it to stay, I’m still playing out. I have a MySpace Music page as well as a Facebook music page if anyone’s interested in checking it out. In fact, in addition to some of my more recent, independent stuff, I think I’ve also posted a song or two from my Sister Chain days that I penned there as well.



Let’s see... the other girls... I know Erin Grefensette (now Henninger) went to Ann Arbor, MI for a little while after graduating, along with Kate Beck Clark and Bridget McCourt, at some point. I think part of what prompted that move was also the music scene that was there. (Probably they were following the lead of ND’s Sea of Words, with whom we used to hang out with/play music with quite a bit as well). I already told you about Kate BC’s present day happenings... so on to Erin GH: she is now in Denver, CO primarily involved with being a mother to her beautiful little girl, Marlo, and living the good life with her über successful husband (you know lots of globe-trotting... nice, eh? ;-) We’ve all lost track of Bridget McC, one of our trusty managers. (Bridget, if you’re out there reading this somewhere, look us up, girl!). Our other manager, MB, is back in her home state of OH, also very involved with being a parent.

Michelle G also ended up in Michigan, her home state, after graduation, though not in Ann Arbor. She’s out in Denver, CO now as well, raising her two fine sons, doing some counseling, and happily married.

Erin Hardin went back to her home town of New Orleans, spent some time in TX, and recently relocated back to NOLA. I think she’s done some teaching over the years, but I’m pretty sure her main focus at this point is her family, which includes her lovely hub, Bob, twin boys (Walker & Murphy), and adorable little Lola, whom they adopted about a year ago from China. I’m pretty sure a little boy named Bennet will be joining them from China soon, too.



Dang, I didn’t intend to make this so long – but, I guess it’s because The Sister Chain was definitely a big and extremely positive part of my time at Saint Mary’s. I hope that we helped to have a positive impact on others in the ND/SMC/SB scene at the time as well. I think we did, based on the various responses that we received.

In closing, thanks Ted, for the opportunity to reflect on those years and those good times, and for working to preserve those good times for the future—and I’m not just talking about The Sister Chain, of course—I’m referring to all of the great bands, the great people, that came together during those years to make that scene what it was.

If I missed anything (ha!), or if anyone wants to know anything more, feel free to look me up.

All the best!

And keep on rockin’ all!

Respectfully Submitted,
Meghan King Johnson, 6/24/2009

P.S. I have to give a shout-out to some of our fabulous friends who faithfully supported us during our Sister Chain years, people like: Christine Makarewizc, Joanne Gatti, Liz Quinlan, Lisa Philips, Lisa (Claussen) Kommers, Anne Delaney, Molly (McDonald) Peets, Missy (Arnett) Caudill, Melinda “Max” Tierney, Grant Johnson, and Mike Goodwin. And of course, all the musicians that I mentioned above, and some. I’m sure I’ve left some people out, which I’m sorry about, but dang! It’s late! And this thing needs to wrap! So, if I left out your name, I’m sorry—but please know that if you ever came to one of our shows, bought any of our tapes, or even took the time to read this long-winded memoir of sorts, we are grateful, and you are special. :-)

* intentional capital “T.” You’ll find out why when you read the article. ;-)
** it’s OK to leave out the “The” sometimes, just not on official documents, or when Erin Hardin’s around. ;-)

listen/download:


see also:
The Sister Chain on MySpace

V/A - The Jericho Sessions

The Jericho Sessions (1991) was the first of three campus band compilations put out by WVFI in the 1990s. Below are the original CD liner notes from the guys that brought it all together.

***

If I were on the University's 25-year plan, I could never begin to explain to you the rapid metamorphosis of this project. Perhaps Chris can. I called him around Thanksgiving and told him that I wanted to record a CD compilation featuring Notre Dame musicians. I actually heard optimism in his voice. I knew we were on to something.

Well, 5 months and 15 ulcers later, we have the final product. Our baby. The real irony here is that, at the moment, I'm failing "Physics of Music & Sound Reproduction." No matter. I've never thought that art and science had a healthy relationship anyway.

After a host of comedic - and largely sacrilegious - ideas for a name, we decided to call it "The Jericho Sessions." If you're unclear on the meaning, break out your Good Book. It's a great story.

So now the ball is in your court. Chris and I, in conjunction with WVFI 640 AM (Notre Dame's problem child), give you the very first collection of original tunes from your peers. This campus has more artistic greatness than you know, and exciting new music is alive and well. Catholic School was never so crazy.

Tony Graffeo is here. I've watched him play our dorm talent show for 3 years now, and his songwriting is extraordinary. I'm proud to admit that he was the original inspiration for this project.

I went to high school with Kevin Fleming. I can personally attest to his talent behind the skins. I introduced him to Ralph Falbo in the Fall of 1990, and I'd always assumed their skills would fit neatly together. Ralph is so dynamic at the keys, and he has an ear for music that I've always envied. He is the consummate professional.

I met Ted Leo when I did my first ever radio show as a freshman. I think my first phone call home began with the words "Ma, I met a skinhead." I think she cried. If only she knew him. Ted is the free-spirit who never ceases to entertain. I suppose the highest honor I can bestow upon him is to give him an avenue for his art.

There are many more fantastic musicians on this disc. I believe in every one of them. And I believe that you will hear more from them again someday. They'll be accepting awards, selling out stadiums... hell, some of them will probably still be in grad school here. Wherever they end up, there will be one thing that binds them together - their love for music. This I share with them. It is the most important thing in my life.

--Kevin Flaherty



Why did we undertake this project? I don't remember. If we knew then what we know now, the only Jericho Sessions would have been old Joshua's. I don't think Kevin knew what he was getting us into. Taco Bell at 9:00am, a smorgasbord of beer, a lot of late nights, and endless rounds of phone tag. What a blast.

The main reason for all this was for the bands. [and girls, power...] Seriously, there is so much talent to be heard on this campus. Someone just needed to make it happen. Somehow it turned out to be me and Stooge.

We were not without help. Thanks to Mark Bintinger, owner of the official project vehicle, and a really great boss. After I graduate I hope to work for someone like Mark again. Thanks to Nose who listened to me bitch about this project every night. And thanks to my mom for everything she's ever done for me. Apologies for all the things I've screwed up. Through it all she's believed in me.

As I sit here writing the tenth version of these notes Bon is hamming it up to some band's music track. Fried doesn't even come close. 15 bands in 7 days. Think about that. My phone will be off the hook for awhile. Even accounting for the sleep deprivation, I am thrilled to have been involved in this project. And I couldn't be prouder of what we accomplished.

It must be said, nothing that Kevin and I have done is all too amazing. It just needed to be done. Our sincerest hope is that the spirit of cooperation and action that we've begun lives on. [Thanks Anton...] When I come back here in my plaid pants (probably black plaid...), if it's a sunny day (and above 55 degrees) I want there to be a band jamming on Fieldhouse Mall.

Thanks to each and every act; those who made it and those who didn't. Thanks for trusting us with your music and allowing us to let other hear it. Personal thanks go to Chisel and Bone Forest. More than anyone you guys helped me remember what music is really all about... goin' balls out and havin' a blast. Never change!!

Thank you to Joel Fox who took my enjoyment of music to appreciation. Even if it's not your style, listen to a punk song, or a folk song. See past the format to the substance. The talent.

Thank you - thanks for taking a try on some bands you maybe never heard of. You just might find the band of the nineties. Or not. But it beats buying another T-shirt.

Remember, it's all about the music. That's what we all share, how we're all connected. So welcome to our family. We have a pretty good time.

--Christopher D. Walter

P.S. Thanks to anyone who gives me a job after seeing this on my resume.



Track Listing:
1. "God's Answering Machine" - Tony Graffeo
2. "Spacey Floater" - Brian Muller
3. "And She Rides On" - Dominic Campanella & Chris Norborg
4. "Little Lover" - Fresh Water For The Horses
5. "Walk In The Streets" - The Turquoise Sidewalk
6. "Better Off Dead" - Exit 77
7. "Moon Blues" - Little Geneva
8. "Swingin' In The Chapel" - Ralph Falbo Trio
9. "Hide Away" - Don McGahn
10. "World On Its Side" - The XYZ Affair
11. "Censorship Is A Lie" - Doghaus
12. "Swamp Fox/Spike" - Chisel
13. "Autistic For The Night" - Bone Forest
14. "Strange Addiction" - Chronic Desire
15. "Bee Slippers" - 5 O'Clock Shadows
16. "Love Lay Down" - Jester
17. "Another Mission" - Greg Jeffrey
18. "By My Side" - SyR
19. "Scream" - Sigi Loya

listen/download:

emiLy - Walking Home on the Emergency Bed

It was finals week, I think. We were camped in our usual spots in the basement of Lafortune Hall. Totally cool.

Some months prior, I'd clambered into a booth in that same basement next to Ted Leo, demanding that he tell me the first word that came to mind. I'd been walking around Lafortune doing this to everybody. You see I was trying to name a band.

That's not to say we didn't have a working band name. It was "Barge Mounted Winch." Don't ask; I have no answers, and the first guy to make a joke about BMW gets stabbed in the face.

In any case, I shook Ted down for a name while he was talking to Emily Davis. He looked at me with a combination of amusement and worry and said, "Emily!"

We liked it. So we became emiLy. I'm not entirely sure how the little e big L thing happened. Mike and Doug most likely have better memories about this than I do.

I do remember that Mike often claimed that the big L was for love, man.

But that's all beside the point. The thing is, Mike was really tired. He'd been studying hard, I think. He got up from the booth, staggered, and stammered blearily: "Oh man, I'm walking home on the emergency bed."

Jaws dropped, and an album was named.



When emiLy went on its final tour, I remember Mike putting this tape on while we were driving. I also remember cringing and writhing on the back seat and begging him to turn it off. I think that I may have been more sensitive, at age 24, to the spastic, googly, songwriting of my 20 year old self, than I am now at 37. (Fuck. I'm 37.)

Now I listen to it, and I'm surprised. It sounds like a young punk band. Just as good and just as bad as a young punk band. I'm not entirely sure what all my writhing and begging for it to stop in the Suburban was all about.



Sometime in the late nineties, Steve Sostak of Sweep the Leg Johnny approached me with a business proposition. Sweep would buy the name "Walking Home on the Emergency Bed" from emiLy for the price of one thirty-pack of Old Style.

We totally got the better end of that deal. If they paid up. I can't remember if they paid up. Damn. It is possible that I was drunk when that deal went down. Sorry guys. I owe you all some beers.



In conclusion, I'm happy that the best song on this tape is "Minuteman": "I pray to god/that I never learn to do this right." Some prayers do get answered.

--Joe Cannon





This cassette was recorded in April of 1993 at "Radium City" (WVFI), and was engineered by Ted Leo. Live tracks were taken from a March 20, 1993 show at Dalloway's Coffeehouse. This was split-label released as RTO1/SS003 (Rent To Own + Sudden Shame).


listen/download:


see also:
emiLy on MySpace
emiLy on last.fm

Bessie - Live at Clifford, May 3, 1997

--- MIKE ---

The Origin Story

I only vaguely recollect the beginnings of the band that would become Bessie. I know it had something to do with Grad Student Amy The Bassist (GSATB) recruiting me to play "something" (bass? guitar? drums?) in her new band. After I settled on playing the drums, with the caveat that I was still learning how to play, GSATB asked The Chris Owen to sing lead. Somehow we also convinced Jen C's then-boyfriend, Irish Terry Q. from Ireland, to round out the group on guitar. I know Amy and Chris wanted to call the band The Homeowners, and to this day I have no idea how we settled on the name Bessie.

The Outfit

What a completely wacky combination of musical styles and personalities. Amy was the ringleader, scheduling practices and writing most of the foundation material for the songs on her bass. I supplied the practice space (Clifford the Big Red House) and tried my best to imitate Hannah Fox on drums (because I was completely obsessed with her band Babe The Blue Ox at the time). Fortunately, Doug McE. let me borrow his drumset and Whiff gave me some drums lessons, otherwise this whole venture would have been even more horrible than it already was.



Practices were too few and far between, styles (Amy's quirky bass, Chris' shouting vocals, Terry's funk guitar, and my half-assed drumming) never quite meshed, and yet we still managed to play a bunch of shows (including going on a brief "tour" of Michigan) and frighten people. The best compliment I ever got for this band was from Joe C. who said something to the effect that "I thought this band was supposed to be a joke, but actually your songs are rather complicated and interesting" after he heard us play. Not too bad. And when it rocked, it was really, really fun. I love playing drums, even if I'm terrible.

The Conclusion

I was never truly happy with the band, mostly because I was so frustrated trying to play drum parts that I was simply not competent to perform. It's still painful for me to listen to these songs, for that reason alone. I think with more time (we were together for a grand total of about 4 months?) this band could have evolved into something really good. As it stands, it's a decent record of an experimental hybrid weird rock band that tried really hard to, well, I'm not really sure. The song "Gertrude Is A Dog" still makes me really happy. You broke if you don't dance to that.

Thanks.



--- CHRIS ---

Are there any bands that sound like this anymore? When I listen to this now a voice in my head says “Indie, Indie, Indie!" (like Jan saying "Marcia, Marcia, Marcia!"). What would one call this style of music? Maybe I just found a way to avoid it, but I don’t feel like you hear it anymore. It is like a 90s indie clusterfuck- Mike's Babe the Blue Ox influenced drums, the Rites of Spring-lite male vocals alternating B-52s-like with 90s grrrrrl vox, Britpop guitar... individually those elements provide the color, but overall I would say it was Amy's Kim Deal pose that defined this band (I don't know who young women emulate these days, but I don't miss the days when a tuneless young gal might pick up a bass, stitch together the first 4 unrelated melodies she comes up with and immediately get on stage. I am sure it still happens, I am just not there to watch and there is probably a different muse). Needless to say, we were not the Pixies.

Despite what Mike remembers, I believe I was the last member to enter this band. After a brief period of direction-free practice, they asked me to come in to help provide some pizazz. Like if George Bush had asked Mick Foley to come in and help provide some direction. In addition to jazzing things up with some unnecessary second lead vocals, the magic I sprinkled on top, as I remember, was lobbying to call the band "The Homowners" (purposely misspelled, I was 10 years ahead of Shitgaze/No-Fi) and suggesting we cover "What Goes On" by the Velvet Underground. For whatever reason, the Homowners name never stuck and our "What Goes On" provided an excruciating 7 minute set piece for audiences to contemplate unfinished homework, impending student loans, really anything to avoid paying attention to this awful never-ending rendition of what used to be a good song.

I listened to this once a few months ago when Ted sent it to me and it was even worse than I remember. Though it might not have needed to be; Amy was learning the bass as we went but she practiced a lot and “Gertrude” was a catchy song. Mike's drumming was perfectly fine, I thought, despite his self-flagellation about not mastering them immediately. Terry's borrowed 12 string electric (with 6 strings), though perpetually falling out of tune, was well played (and he struck an exotic U2-y figure onstage, contrasting depressingly with the basements we played in). However, this band suffered from a common ailment in the scene that really didn't work this time- different flavors that did not go well together. This band did not mix well. Listening to any of these songs it is obvious and the best example of this is the experiment in dual male/female lead vocalists. Though unique among our SBP90s brethren, it was unavoidably awkward and strained. The music is bad, but the vocals are worse.



I feel like I was constantly trying to quit this band and I wish I could say why you can hear my voice on these songs, but I have no excuse. It pains me to hear my earnest Guy Picciotto impersonation, lyrics ripped off from Doug's Raymond Carver rip off period (I think there is actually a song called "Gazebo" here) and I want to publicly apologize to anyone who had to watch us. If you sat through the Mad Dogs and Bessie in the same night, I formally request you stop reading now. You had enough of me that night to last the rest of your life. Interestingly, the Mad Dogs were a way for me to react to what I thought of as an occasionally pretentious scene, whereas my Bessie vocals were an attempt to conform to it... which makes them that much more embarrassing.

In fact, I am absolutely positive this was the worst band of the SBP90s scene 1994-1998 because I can prove it. A few years ago in a “ND Years” box I found a VHS tape labeled "The Cure- Staring at the Sea the Singles video collection." I put it in my VCR, hit rewind and genuinely looked forward to cranking it while I cleaned the house. Imagine the horror I felt when I heard my own voice loudly saying something typically stupid. Roger videotaped us live at Dalloway’s, somehow it found its way onto this tape and now it is a living document I can always refer to when I want to revisit the agony we put audiences through. The crowd is even shown, sleepwatching for the whole 45 minutes or so, wishing they could be anywhere but witnessing us define the opposite of “Chemistry” and listening to me talk endlessly between songs. Unfunny, unattractive, unappealing. (As an aside, here are two tips for young bands and bands young at heart: 1) Never play longer than 30 minutes 2) Unless your name is Bob Pollard or David Lee Roth, never speak, on any subject or at any length, between songs. Actually, James and Dave were very funny in Krautmiser, but in general it is a cardinal rule best learned early- less talk, more rock). This tape is atrocious. No nostalgia, whatsoever, out of this tape until the Cure take over an hour into it. Ted requested I send it to him and I say to you now what I said to him then: You'll take my Staring at the Sea VHS over my dead body! There is no way I would allow this to get on the internet. I have a child and want no visual evidence of this band available online to discredit what is left of my family name. Even my daytime personality doesn’t know where I have hidden the original. On the bright side, at least there is no video evidence of the show we played opening for Mustard Plug in Kalamazoo (though I haven’t checked that Hulmerist video in a while either).

Regarding the download available below, I cannot under any circumstances recommend you listen to it. I asked Ted not to make it available, but his will to document has grown stronger than his quality control impulse. He needs help. Please join me in making this the least downloaded SBP90s entry yet. Finally, I want to apologize to Jim McNamee for the rude comments I made to him at this show. Not cool, not funny, not clever - the opposite of Jim himself, whom I miss.

see also:
Bessie on MySpace

Krautmiser - Mr. Miatsu's Deadly Game

In 1995, an album was released that changed a generation: Krautmiser's Mr. Miatsu's Deadly Game.

Everyone remembers how Mr. Miatsu's Deadly Game included the cliffhanger-ending story of how Krautmiser fearlessly challenged Mr. Miatsu in his own lair. But for years Krautmiser scholars have wondered: what actually happened to Julian Dingle, David McMahon, Jack Howard, and James Kennedy, once they entered Miatsu's notorious "Death Pagoda"?

Now, at long last--as an exclusive to South Bend Power 90s--the "lost ending" of Mr. Miatsu's Deadly Game!

First, the original story, from the insert of the 1995 album Mr. Miatsu's Deadly Game:

KRAUTMISER'S LAST HURRAH?
HAS KRAUTMISER MET THEIR MATCH?
WHITHER PRUDENCE, BELOVED BOYS OF KRAUTMISER?

So shouted the headlines of the Fleet Street weeklies when England's scandal-sheet favourites, Krautmiser, announced their intention to play Mr. Miatsu's deadly game.

"This time they've gone too far," sniffed Lady Agatha Croydon, the ex-betrothed of Krautmiser's notorious playboy drummer Jack Howard, when informed of the band's sensational announcement.

But what is the story behind the scandal? Some wags claim Krautmiser was unwittingly shanghaied into playing Mr. Miatsu's deadly game. But when has Krautmiser ever done anything "unwittingly"--Krautmiser, a band whose every smallest action, down to the flirtatious bat of an eyelash, is precalculated and phase-plotted by a Cray-2 supercomputer for maximum swank and joie de vivre?


Others bandy about allegations that Krautmiser was forced into participating in Mr. Miatsu's deadly game. But how could Krautmiser ever be "forced" to do anything--Krautmiser, the wealthiest and most powerful band in the world?

No, Krautmiser's decision to engage Mr. Miatsu in his deadly game can only be traced to one reason--the same reason for all their actions--that is, the boundless insouciance and devil-may-care sassiness that have made them beloved pop-culture icons the world over. "We thought it'd be a lark to play Miatsu's deadly game," said Julian Dingle, guitarist, at a recent press conference.


But who is Mr. Miatsu? That question is not easily answered. All that can be said for certain about the enigmatic Miatsu is that once every year, this inscrutable 850-year-old mandarin emerges from his inaccessible pagoda deep within the heart of China and issues his challenge: "Who shall play my exceedingly dangerous game?"

What kind of band would throw their lives to the fickle winds of Oriental fate? "We started out with nothing," growled bassist James Kennedy in his raspy Irish brogue, "so we find it much easier to gamble everything." To be sure, Krautmiser did have inauspicious beginnings: in the early years, Kennedy was nothing more than another streetfighting lad going nowhere fast in the pubs of Belfast.

How he fell in with Jack Howard, an Eton schoolboy still in shortpants at the time, and Julian Dingle, a well-heeled Oxford don and the unofficial "bad boy" of orthodox Scholasticism, is still a mystery.

It was not until 1964 the Krautmiser finally found a vocalist. It was August 4, "Rodeo Nite" at the Buckin' Silver Star Saloon in Junction City, Kansas. "We don't have a singer for this next song," Julian called out halfway through the set. "Does anyone here know how to sing?"

"Oh, ah do!" piped up a drunken farm girl from the cornfields of Kansas. It was her first night on the town, and this blue-dressed, blonde-tressed ingenue was none the better for the five gin and tonics that she had downed that night.

"What's your name, young lovely?" inquired a solicitous James Kennedy as he helped her stagger onto the stage.

"Dave McMahon," slurred the young girl. "But I let the nice boys call me Peaches," she added, giggling.

"How old are you, little miss?" asked Jack Howard skeptically.

"Eighteen," said Peaches McMahon defiantly. But she was only sixteen, and even now Ma McMahon was peeping out the window of her farmhouse hundreds of miles away, wondering when her little Peaches would return.

She never did. Even when falling-down drunk, Peaches McMahon managed to bring the house down for encore after encore. That very night she climbed into the Krautmiser tour bus, and never saw Kansas again.

But the lean years were not over for Krautmiser. Who knows what might have become of Krautmiser had Sir Evelyn Hottentot, the eccentric and fabulously wealthy aristocrat, not walked into London's "seedier-than-thou" Black Bombay Club the night of September 14, 1967? Sir Evelyn was immediately smitten by Krautmiser's youthful savoir faire--and yet his heart was broken by the abject poverty Krautmiser endured, their bony ribs sticking out of their lanky, emaciated frames. Sir Evelyn immediately took Krautmiser under his wing, offering the boys a place to stay and hot meals.


But Sir Evelyn turned out to be as dotty as he was generous. He was given to bouts of melancholia and he frequently went skeet shooting in the middle of Piccadilly Square. His weakness for the caresses of supple Malaysian houseboys left him with a nasty case of syphilis that nearly drove him mad. Krautmiser soon took over their daft benefactor's fortunes and, with cunning financial prowess, went on to establish themselves as the best-loved band in the world.

And so now Krautmiser stands at the entrance of Mr. Miatsu's "death pagoda." The door opens. Miatsu emerges.

"Who shall play my exceedingly dangerous game?" rasps the ancient monk.

"We shall," proclaims James Kennedy as Krautmiser steps forward. "We shall play your dangerous game with relish, Miatsu."

"But are your fists of quality much greatness?" questions Miatsu sagely.

Replies McMahon, "Our fists are motorized explosions."

"Your explosions are your own impotence," snaps Miatsu.

"Bold talk," returns Howard, "for a man whose very kimono is a flapping tent of viscera."

"I am that kimono," growls Miatsu, eyes blazing.

"That we shall defrock you of your own substance," muses Dingle. "Mr. Miatsu--or, should I say, my little Peking duck."

"I shall consume you as I consumed General Ch'ung Kiang before you!" booms Mr. Miatsu as storm clouds rumble. "Enter, young Krautmisers, into my 'Death Pagoda.' I have spoken."

Krautmiser enters. The door closes.

Oh, do be careful, reckless youth of Britain! Oh, do come home safe, beloved boys of Krautmiser!

And thus ends the story of Krautmiser as of 1995. But what happened to Krautmiser in Mr. Miatsu's "Death Pagoda"? Now, finally, the truth is revealed...

AT LONG LAST . . .
FOURTEEN YEARS LATER . . .
THE CONCLUSION TO MR. MIATSU'S DEADLY GAME!

"A springtime shower of illustrious blessings to you, Mr. Miatsu," said Jack Howard politely; "and to the she-goat who bore you from its rancid womb."

"Your feeble contumely holds no terror," said Miatsu from his alabaster throne, "for a man who suckled at the teat of Dag Na Goga, the silver dragon who even now slumbers beneath the soil."

"A cunning jade statuette, Miatsu," said Dave McMahon, plucking up a centuries-old idol. "It will look quaint on me mum's window-sill."

"Even now I curse that window-sill; wild boars shall befoul it."

James Kennedy shot back, "Be it so, but I shall violate every orifice you possess with those selfsame boars."

Miatsu whirled. "This from a man whose dishonorable underclothes have been the scorn of his generation!"

The curtains parted, and Julian Dingle alighted, borne by a rickshaw.

"So enters the prancing monkey of the Western world," observed Miatsu. "And now, who will play my exceedingly dangerous game?"

"The game has already been played... and won," said Julian coolly. "For, unbeknownst to you or your sad regiment of ill-fed monks, I have paid a visit to Beijing... and the Imperial Library."

"Thrice a bungler, thrice an oaf," gloated Miatsu. "What piffling words did you scrabble up, backwards scholar?"

"Only this: that you once loved a woman, Miatsu," said Julian boldly. "And, yea, unbeknownst even to her own sister, your betrothed, you dallied with her, and tasted delights in the shade of the cherry blossoms; iniquity in your heart, and shame on your lips, you fled to this miserable temple; and here you have moldered for 850 years, a man who is not a man, but a shell, who possesses not a heart, but a lump of dung; for you cannot love, Miatsu, and that is your deadly game."

But even as Julian spoke, Miatsu grew smaller and smaller; the gold and red robes that once enfolded him now hung loosely about his diminishing frame; the alabaster idols, the proud banners, the shining kanji on the crimson cards, the granite obelisk, the dice of bronze and ivory, the pods and chits and spangles and coins--indeed, all of the apparatus of the deadly game, crumbled to dust; and then, all at once, the boys of Krautmiser found themselves, not in the arid wastes of Red China, but in a leafy glade, alongside a babbling brook, under a spreading chestnut-tree; the delicate "twoot-twoot" of the thrush could be heard--

"England," cried David, clasping his tiny, pale, puffy hands together in infantile delight--capering spastically into the sunrise--"Oh, oh, oh my beloved England!"


--James Kennedy
www.jameskennedy.com





listen/download:


see also:
Krautmiser on MySpace

Obstruction - One Step Closer

A hardcore band at Notre Dame?!? You better believe it! Ron Garcia, Andy Yang, and Ted Hennessy tell the tale of Obstruction!
Ted: Obstruction began back in the fall of 1996. I remember having written a couple songs on guitar that were a little too hard and fast for the Mad Dogs. Somehow I was referred to Mr. Ron Garcia (affectionately nicknamed "Hardcore Ron") who, unbeknownst to me, played a mean heavy metal bass.

Ron: I'm guessing Rachel referred you to me, since I think she's the only person who had ever seen me play the bass (in my dorm room, yadayadayada).

Ted: Actually, when I learned of this, I became quite angry. Angry because HC Ron had been on campus for over 3 years and was never invited to play in a campus band. I mean, seriously, what the hell?? Ron and I quickly decided we needed a way to focus this anger, and the best way to do that was to start a hardcore band. Thus began Obstruction.

Ron: I did consider trying out for Pinch Point once, but I never answered the ad they put in the Observer.

Ted: I think it was also Rachel who came up with the band name.

Ron: It was one of you two. I remember you saying, "Ron, we need to start a hardcore band named Obstruction!"

Ted: Initially, we tried Bear out as our drummer, but it didn't quite gel. I think we scared him off by playing our songs so fast that we could barely keep up with them ourselves. That's when we enlisted a man with the guns to fill the bill: Andy Yang, a refugee from the recently defunct Catatonics.

Ron: Damn straight.

Andy: I don't think I ever really kept up with the hardcore tempo, but I had a damn good time trying. I pretty much improvised a fast tempo drum beat that seemed to have a mind of its own at times, not always in time and far from perfect. I remember having to screw some wooden blocks to the carpet that my shitty drum set was on to help stabilized the damn thing to keep it from running away.


Ted: And then there was Ron's singing... I think this surprised the shit out of everybody. Here was this sweet, super-soft spoken young gentle-man... who was suddenly transformed into a font of fiery onstage screaming rage. Wow. A pleasant surprise indeed, with very, very effective results.

Andy: That was the best part of Obstruction! Ron's piercing yell ruled!

Ron: Our first show I don't remember if the PA was working, so I'm not sure if anyone heard the vocals. The second South Bend show (at Clifford) got some stares. I didn't know I had it in me.


Ted: Yeah, the first show... it was on the same night as the last Cuba Five show (3/13/1997). We were booked for a Bowling Green, OH fest a week or so later, so we really needed to get some stage time under our belts. We played about 6 songs, in arguably one of the shortest sets in South Bend music history. Most of the songs were under 2 minutes long. It was the only time we ever played "Shenanigans," an ill-conceived instrumental "tribute" to the ND song and dance troupe of the same name.

Ron: Hahaha! Awesome. Many strings were broken at that first show (bass strings, guitar strings). Drum sticks? We tore shit up!

Andy: Good times! Yeah, I remember being pretty pumped up and racing away on the drums. We definitely upped the tempo even more at the shows.



Ted: BG fest was fun, even if we were a trifle nervous and screwed up a lot. It was a good sized crowd. Chris O sang a few extra songs with us there as some hacked off version of the Mad Dogs.

Andy: Yes, our first gig away from SB and it was our second show. We weren't really prepared, but it was fun, for sure. We were definitely feeling the jitters and screwed up good, but all in all, a good time.

Ron: I remember we didn't have a carpet so the drumset kept trying to run away.

Ted: We probably only played a handful of other shows from there on out, a few times at Clifford and maybe the Green House. Obstruction dissolved when I left South Bend for the greener pasture of Austin, TX in the summer of 1997. Several months later, I stopped back in town for a tape release/reunion show at the Canary House on Halloween, with the Mad Dogs and the Butterfly Effect.

Ron: That was an awesome reunion show.

Ted: Indeed. Probably the best we ever played.



"Obstruction... GO!!"
Track Commentary

1. Eyesore
Ted: Though often oversimplified, we tried to add "political" overtones to our music. "Eyesore" had something to do with television inadequately reflecting the diversity of real life.

Ron: Hardcore bands (and angsty youth in general) have traditionally oversimplified their politics. Who were we to shirk years of tradition?

2. "Stabbed in the Back"
Ron: Poking (pun intended) fun at the classic hardcore motif: "I thought you were my friend, but now you've stabbed me in the back." Plenty of bands singing about their bleeding hearts spend their weekdays dishing out the same medicine they complained about in verse on the weekend.

3. Holy Martyr
Ted: Written in reaction to attending too many HC fests overrun by macho, sexist, straightedge buffoons.

4. Vicarious
Ted: Don't ever try to tell Ron what to do with his life, unless you want the beatdown! Clocking in at only around 30 seconds, this song was often over before people knew what had hit them.

5. Badge
Ted: The lyrics to the verses of this song were taken from quotes on redneck bumper stickers I witnessed during my days as a pizza delivery guy in SB.

6. Gunshot
Ted: Our anti-joining-the-military anthem, or something like that. Always a crowd favorite due to the mid-song guitar breakdown and shouting of "Go! Fight! Win! Die!"

Ron: Let's not forget the absolutely crucial "Obstruction Go!" You can't be old school without throwing your band name in at least one of your songs!

Andy: My favorite song to play. I was able to just beat the shit out the drum set, broke a few sticks here and there.

Ted: This song was initially titled "Gun Shy," until it was brought to our attention that that was also the name of a 10,000 Maniacs song. Whew-- dodged a bullet on that one. (ba-dump bump!)

7. Underscore
Ted: "Underscore" and "Last Goodbye" were written towards the end of the band's brief existence, but showed promise of where our sound was heading, had we continued on.

Ron: Underscore was named because it was an untitled instrumental that we put on setlists as "_______". Apparently my sense of humor has little progressed.

8. Last Goodbye
Ron: This was the obstruction love/heartbreak song. Hey, hardcore bred emo, so we HAD to reveal our tender sides for the fans.

Ted: I'm glad we nailed this one in the studio, because we always struggled with it live. You can hear Andy exclaim at the end "that was the best ever!" cuz we finally got it right! For me it's the highlight of this tape.



Ted: This cassette, tongue-in-cheekily titled One Step Closer, was recorded in May of 1997 at Clifford the Big Red House, with Travis assisting under Ron's direction. Faye, Leslie, Doug, and Mike (aka the Obstruction Youth Crew) helped with the background shouts on a couple tracks. It was a split release with our good friends the Mad Dogs, who's contribution has already been chronicled in a previous blog post.

Ron: Here's a point of irony. I've lost my voice for the third time in my life this weekend (due to a cold). The last time I remember losing my voice was when we recorded the Obstruction tape. During the vocal recording session, Mike Larmoyeux was running the sound board and I was in the basement screaming my heart out. It was graduation weekend so his family came by Clifford while we were recording. As Mike told me, they seemed perplexed, so he explained that we were overdubbing tracks for a recording, and I think his mom, or aunt or some other said, "But why is someone yelling in your basement?!?"

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see also:
Obstruction on MySpace

The Transoms - The Weather is Here... Wish You Were Beautiful

I used to tell people I named my band “The Transoms” because “we’re like the Doors, but higher.”

I simply present that here for historical documentation purposes.

After a few lineup changes, where I was the sole remaining original Transom, we settled on Ron Garcia on drums and Sean Markey on bass. I played guitar and sang.

Ron, Sean and John. We rhymed. It was almost too perfect.


Except that Ron wanted very little to do with the band. After the first drummer, Jeremy, vanished from the face of the earth, Ron filled in for a few shows, making it quite obvious that he wasn’t interested in being my full-time drummer. With almost weekly cajoling, he played every show thereafter for two years.


Well... every show except for that one where I played drums and sang, while a superfan from my dorm, who happened to already know all our songs, played lead guitar. That show was terrible. Like, really bad. I’m no Phil Collins, and Phil Collins fucking sucks.

Our CD, The Weather is Here... Wish You Were Beautiful was recorded in summer 1999, over the course of one sweaty week in Ron’s house on Bulla Road. Sean couldn’t make it out from Springfield, Mass. for the session, so I played bass, in addition to guitar and vocals. Ron, still doing his damnedest to not actually be in the band, only played drums on a handful of tracks. I talked Doug McEachern into playing on the rest. I remember the idea piqued his interest, because he’d never been asked to be a “session drummer” before.

But anyway, 15 songs. All of them went on the CD. A friend suggested the album’s title, but it was only after the cover was printed that I learned it was a fucking Jimmy Buffett song. You got me.


The Transoms’ CD was reviewed twice, as far as I know. The student newspaper The Observer raved about it. Five out of five shamrocks. It began, “In the long tradition of incredibly talented Notre Dame campus bands, the Transoms have joined the ranks of the elite with their first album the weather is here... ...wish you were beautiful."

That’s right -- the elite. But read that review and one thing is for sure: The guy didn’t spend a whole lot of time composing it.

Case in point: “‘Cosmetic Surgery’ is one of the best tracks on the album, with its great musical transitions.”

Yeah, that’s right. Motherfuckin’ musical transitions. That’s going on my resume starting tomorrow.

Even better, the review’s headline, “Music of The Transoms is Awesome,” was a total mistake. Turns out, the page designer plugged in a dummy headline to determine the font size, but never returned to fix it.

The South Bend Tribune writer spent a little more time with the album, but it baffled me to no end that he compared our “rough-hewn sound” to “early Who and Joe Jackson.”

Joe who?

Yeah, that’s right. I had no idea who Joe Jackson was at the time. Oh, you mean that guy who wrote “Is She Really Going Out With Him?” That guy? Great.

My favorite line from that review was when the author said the CD was “seven to 10 minutes too long.”

Touché, my good man. Touché.

Track commentary:
1. When We Were Cool - The guitar solo was quite challenging, and I think I nearly ruined a friendship by practicing it for an hour straight while my roommate tried to nap.
2. Cosmetic Surgery - I wrote that in high school, but reinvented it with a guitar solo for the Transoms.
3. Anywhere to Be - Written in Alumni Hall. One of the proudest moments in my life was when The Butterfly Effect wove part of this into one of their songs at their last show ever.
4. Story in Past Tense - 3/4 time.
5. Poor Diction - About as punk as we got.
6. Maroon & Blue - This was about a girl I was trying to woo, if you can believe it. Not surprisingly, she was alternately puzzled and turned off by it.
7. How Little Feels - A guy in my dorm heard me fucking around with the main riff and announced that it captured “the way I feel.” His name: Scott Little. Therefore, this song is How Little Feels.
8. Make it Dance - Written as a reaction to one of Doug McEachern’s essays in his ‘zine, “A Boy & His.” Then he ended up playing drums on it.
9. Sharing Kisses - Totally not as emo as the title suggests. False start intro was a nod to the fact that it took like 12 takes to get it on tape.
10. The (New) New Nathan Detroits - An acoustic cover of my favorite Braid song, but significantly changed.
11. Butter Slippery - Another song about a girl. This one was also misunderstood. I abandoned songs about girls after this.
12. Throwing it All - There was a guitar-virtuoso guy on my floor who loved this song and used to play it on guitar all the time. That was the pinnacle of musical flattery for me.
13. A Horrible Joke - I played drums. I remember Vinny Carrasco sitting in the backseat of a car and saying, “I liked every song except for Number 13.” Thanks a lot, jerk!
14. Plastic June - Probably played live twice.
15. Generic Love Song - Written in about 15 minutes, this song was probably our most well-known. I should have learned a lesson there.

--John Huston
johnphuston.com

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