Look at Them!

it's crippling never really knowing they're huddling where it's always nice and plus there is a flame of frail and trippy hearts and swallowed, being small and being still following where ever you will look at them, they're sensitive and they inch out, look at them and plus there is a flame of frail and trippy hearts and swallowed, being small and being still following where ever you will.

The Big Bear Speaks

It's 4:01 am on a Thursday morning. There is a draft coming through the crack in the door I opened for the smoke and a mouse is trapped in a garbage bag in my kitchen. I can hear it move around every couple of hours, and have contemplated two nights in a row going through the bag to find it. I have finally decided not to. I would feel guilty if I thought people actually read what we wrote here, but they don't, so I won't.

I am currently listening to HLA's latest release, a delicious six-song EP called "Know Hope!" which can be found conveniently on the iTunes store. The mouse just made another noise. The Dakota Run's EP should be finished soon, if I ever get my tired, haggard self back to New York to record another song. I am torn between two - a more hopeful song, cleverly entitled "Captain", and a mid-tempo Nationalfest which has no title as of yet. I will be in the company of one jOHN Gillooly, so I may record the more hopeful of the two.

I don't know what to say right now. I am using this time to get myself another Diet Coke and trying to push off doing overdue papers as long as possible. I have until 9 am, so I've got time. I hope someone is reading this, even if it's J-Bone or G-Unit. I hope someone is hearing us. We may not have the most interesting things to say, but at least we're saying something. If the mouse wanted to get out of the bag so badly, why doesn't it just chew through the plastic?

All the best in the world,
Dylan

Enough thoughts in my head to level a city block...

I am very critical of the "me first" journalism that so many of us have become accustomed to reading, but I am sure that at one point or another you have heard me say Houdini's Last Act was started as a "conversation" and this seems like the best format to open up that dialogue.

The other night my friend (and our sometimes drummer) Ian Bock were rehearsing some songs and drinking forties of OE. The night quickly turned into one of those sessions were the actual playing of music is abandoned for spreading the drunken gospel of it. In the process Angels and Airplanes Will Fly Them Away... came up, Ian avoided the the subject until finally declaring "It kind of sucks"

And he's right. It's muddy, over layered, out of tune (literally) and is obscenely long. For all purposes it "sucks". Unless you were there (Sam and Kathleen you WERE there and I'm sorry for the many naps, study sessions and illnesses that were interrupted by our walls of reverb).
That album was the book everyone kept telling me to write that year and instead of taking advice the ideas were transformed into a collection musical hiccups. I listen to that and I think of the viking mugs, hot cider mornings, the feedback loops that somehow turned into Lisa Loeb's "stay", The 3 am viewings of Twin Peaks and Ian's temporary blindness in one eye. Those moments were ours... they may be one of the few things we ever own.

So this blog is an attempt to open up to more people on a more consistent basis. Hopefully Big Bear, g or any other members will feel the need to post and we can create a multitude of voices.

At the very least I hope that this can be used as a reminder that I love all my friends very dearly and you all give me reason to leave my bed in the morning (except for you McMookie who gives me reason to stay in bed)

--j--