Kyle Garret's Blog, page 8

Fugazi Part Four: Instrument and The Argument

Instrument
It became fitting that Fugazi released an album of outtakes (and documentary) when they did.  The band had already gone their separate ways and were making music together less and less frequently.  The writing should have been on the wall.

It's hard to call "Instrument" an actual album, as it's not.  It is exactly what it sold itself as: a collection of outtakes.  Sadly, most of those outtakes aren't particularly interesting.  It actually goes a long way to confirming that the band is the bunch of lo-fi, regular guys that everyone thought they were.  "Instrument" is filled with the type of junk that is being recorded in every basement in America.  This is Fugazi showing us that they're no different.  They record every single thing they think sounds good, too, even if they realize after the fact that it's crap.

The "Apreggiator" demo is interesting given how much they increased the speed for the recorded version.  "Afterthought" makes you wonder why Fugazi never dabbled in keyboards more, as it's rather catchy.  "Trio's" is darkly atmospheric, more so than anything else the band has recorded, which is probably part of the reason it never materialized on an album.  "Turkish Disco" is the first track where I actually wondered why Fugazi never turned it into a complete song.  That doesn't happen again until "Little Debbie" which could have fit on any album from "In on the Killtaker" on.  "I'm So Tired" begs the question of why Fugazi didn't use more piano parts.  "Swingset" has a fantastic verse, but the attempt at a chorus makes it clear why it's an outtake.

In the end, "Instrument" is a collection of songs for only the biggest of Fugazi fans.  It's great as a glimpse inside the creative minds, but it doesn't offer much in the way of songs.

The Argument
Twenty, thirty years from now, when the story of Fugazi is written by smarter people than me, they will probably point at "The Argument" as being their crowning achievement, the culmination of their evolution as a band and the pinnacle of what they could do as a band.  That would be hard to argue with.

I point to this: I had a friend who absolutely hated Fugazi, but loved this album.  This was Fugazi at a different level.  This was a band that produced "Red Medicine" and came through "End Hits" and ended up here.

This was a focused band.  The opening lets you know that this is going to be a journey.  "Cashout" is all about the vocals and a noise rock chorus that would make no sense coming from anyone else.

The verse on "Full Disclosure" has so much urgency you have no choice but to get swept up in it as it pulls you into a surprisingly poppy chorus, the likes of which would feel right at home on the alternative top 40.  Even crazier is the outro that follows the last chorus, like something ripped from 90s radio, as if Fugazi is finally acknowledging all their contemporaries.  Of course, they follow that section up with some good old fashion punk rock noise, so it's kind of perfect.

"Epic Problem" is Ian McKaye's vocal stylings at their best.  The beauty is that he makes the lyrics a part of the song, a part of the actual structure of the music.  It helps that the music is great, with yet another 90s inspired section in the middle.  And then we get the break down, which is something out of "Bad Mouth" from "13 Songs."  It's damn near perfect.

Remember those things I said before about Guy's guitar style?  Welcome to "Life and Limb."  It's already a great song, but then you get to the center with this wonderful, quirky guitar solo over straight up pop music.  We come back to the moody stuff, of course, but that center section makes the rest even better.

Joe Lally songs have their own feel, and "The Kill" fits right in.  It's ethereal, as most Lally sung songs are.  The song never explodes, never builds to anything, but it's a constant, mellow groove with a nice change
from the verse to the chorus.

Let's just get right to it with "Strangelight" -- as interesting as the song is, it's what happens at the 4 minute mark that truly makes it great.  I don't even know what that note-y part is being played on (guitar doubled with keyboards?) and the changing piano chords make it sound ominous.  It's wonderful.

This could be the Fugazi album with the most mood changing moments in songs.  In this case, I'm talking about McKaye's vocals in "Oh," which is mostly sung by Guy.  But read back over my comments on the other songs on this album and the shift in tone is a regular theme.  Interestingly enough, the shift seems to frequently come at the end, a fitting microcosm of Fugazi's library of work.

"Ex-Spectator" has a wonderful, double drum opening.  The verse is sparse and the chorus is full and powerful, driven by McKaye's vocals.  What's really interesting about this song is how it almost seems like an answer to "Public Witness Program" from "In on the Killtaker."  Both songs seem to be about the dangers of not getting involved, but this song pulls the character forward.  The public witness can't stand on the sidelines any longer.

"Nightshop" is probably the clearest use of keyboards we've seen from Fugazi, and they're used to excellent effect.  It's amazing how frantic the song gets by the time we get to that section, given how mellow it starts out.

And now for "The Argument," theoretically the last song on the last Fugazi album.  It's everything you could hope for from a final song.  McKaye has said that the song is about how he will always be against war.  But he frames it as being a bigger argument that's generally not made.  The song itself would suggest that McKaye is calling out those who get bogged down in the small debates, who never see the forest from the trees: "that some punk could argue some moral abc's/when people are catching what bombers release."  It's an argument against the myopic.

It's also the perfect example of the evolution of the band.  The vocals are perhaps the pinnacle of what McKaye has managed to do over the years.  The song is fairly quiet and pretty, with a quixotic keyboard break.  And then it explodes.  It explodes in exactly the way you would want a Fugazi song to end, with heavy guitars from McKaye and a dynamic, catchy note-y part from Guy.  It's damn near perfect.

And then it's over.

Fugazi Part Three: Red Medicine and End Hits

Red Medicine
"Red Medicine" was the first Fugazi album I ever bought when it was released.  Up until this point, I'd been playing catch up.

There's a decent argument to be made that this is their best album.  It's certainly the first salvo of the band taking their songwriting to the next level.

Right from the start, something is different.  There's the energy we're used to.  It opens with some crazy noise, but that's not too surprising.  But are those...clean guitars?  And it's an up tempo song?  And is that a guitar solo (loosely defined, sure)?

And it's like Fugazi knows this might seem strange to you and they challenge you right in the song.  "I've got a question/how/do you like me?"

We are Fugazi and we've taken it to the next level!

"Bed for the Scraping" is classic Fugazi with new Fugazi twist.  Groovestastic bass/drums, Ian McKaye grunting, but the guitar work is sharper and more layered than what we've seen before.  This is a new kind of punk rock anthem, but still has all the old school energy.

"Latest Disgrace" says "remember those weird noises at the beginning of this album?  That was just a taste."  The first half of the song is bizarre, as if the guitars have been tuned differently, and everything besides Guy's voice is muted, particularly the barely there drums by Canty.  Oh, and Guy goes falsetto at one point.  But then it all collapses into the kind of straight forward rocking we expect of Fugazi, it just has more power now, because it's got new context.

"Birthday Pony" seems like it should sound like an old Fugazi song, but the production has changed it.  The palm muting, the big chorus -- this should be "13 Songs" era Fugazi.  But the big chorus isn't just big this time around, it's full.  There's a texture there that we haven't seen before.  And you're beginning to realize that Ian and Guy are pushing each other when it comes to vocals.  They're going into uncharted territory.

"Forensic Scene" is an instant classic.

And then we hit the weird stuff.

"Combination Lock" is probably the most "jam" feeling instrumental Fugazi has ever released.  It feels like a song they're just jamming on one day.  "Fell, Destroyed" could be a June of '44 song.  "By You" is a crazy wall of sound with these mellow vocals by Joe Lally.  "Version" is yet another instrumental, but this one features a clarinet...oh, and the bass line from another song on the album (which we haven't gotten to yet).  It's almost like an undecipherable remix of a song that comes later on the record.

We return to more straight forward, yet no less creative, Fugazi rock with "Target."  Yet again, though, there are guitars that are strikingly not distorted, and yet the urgency of the music hasn't lessened at all.  There's even the classic Fugazi palm mute a part by itself, then play it full blown with the rest of the band, yet it all feels much bigger.  Just listen to the guitars on "Back to Base."  We've never heard anything like that on a Fugazi record.  It's epic.  And "Downed City" is much the same, just more frenetic.  It's wonderful.

I love "Long Distance Runner."  In a lot of ways, it epitomizes "new" Fugazi.  We've got this full, kind of notey, two guitar bit, then some bass/drums action (with appropriate level of guitar noise), and a spectacular level of loud quiet loud.  It's also works as the perfect metaphor for the band: they are long distance runners.  They are constantly moving forward.  They have yet to get stuck because they can't stop.  "And if I stop to catch my breath/might catch a piece of death."  No two Fugazi albums have sounded the same.  No two Fugazi albums will ever sound the same, because they are still running.

I'm convinced that one of the members of Fugazi has synesthesia, because I have synesthesia and the majority of these songs are red to me ("Birthday Pony" and "Do You Like Me" are yellow).  I think one of them saw the same thing when it came time to name this album.

End Hits
"End Hits" deserves the shit that it's gotten from Fugazi fans, but that doesn't stop it from being a great album.

If "Red Medicine" was the beginning of a new era for the band, "End Hits" is them pushing the envelope of that era, pushing and prodding their boundaries, seeing what the limits are.  It's as if they were pleasantly surprised by the music they discovered they could make on the last album and now they are cautiously seeing if it actually suits them.

"Break" is the perfect first song for this album.  It's got a classic Fugazi groove layered underneath this relaxed, almost jazzy clean guitar part -- and is that piano I hear?  It sure is, this time used as an instrument and not as a vehicle for noise (as with the last album).  McKaye's vocals in the center, when it's just him and a single guitar, are strange, but still fit the song perfectly.

Follow that up with classic Guy rocker, "Place Position" and you've got the makings of a fantastic new school Fugazi record, albeit one that seems definable.  But you'd be getting ahead of yourself.

Joe Lally always seems to sing on the more atmospheric songs and "Recap Modotti" is no exception.  We're venturing into stoner rock territory here, which is shocking, given that none of them are stoners.  Even the teases of a build up ultimately don't pay off.  Not that there's anything wrong with that, it's just not something you'd expect from Fugazi...which is something you should get used to over the course of this album.

And while we're on the subject of weird song arrangements, here comes "No Surprises."

But then, like the parting of rain clouds, we get "Five Corporations," a fantastic example of how new Fugazi
can still rock out like old Fugazi, but with more complex music.  And we've even got that trademark Fugazi anti-establishment going on.  Seriously, that tempo change for the chorus is unbelievable, particularly when it's followed by just bass, drums, and vocals for the verse.

"Caustic Acrostic" is a great song, a modern day Guy-style Fugazi song.  You could tell, since Red Medicine, that Guy had gotten away from playing chords.  I have to think that was a response to Ian McKaye's style of guitar.  It really did make them a better band.

And then things get weird again.  "Close Caption" and "Floating Boy" are spacey, atmospheric jams that push the boundaries of traditional song structure.  They're glorious little oddities amongst the larger Fugazi library, wonderful experiments by a band that is no longer bound by a static sound.

We bounce back with "Foreman's Dog," which is surprisingly straight forward for this album.  It kind of reminds me of something to be found on "Steady Diet."  And speaking of straight forward, then we get "Arpeggiator" which is ostensibly just a scale, but somehow Fugazi makes it great.

"Guilford Falls" feels like another new school Guy song, with an initial hook that is made up of picking each string rather than strumming chords.  It's also got the classic Fugazi "introduce a new part by having just one guitar play it, then everyone eventually kicks in."  Again, it's a complex song with layered guitars and an interesting structure, but it still has some classic Fugazi qualities.

 And then we hit "Pink Frosty."  It is possible there's no more maligned Fugazi song in their catalog than "Pink Frosty."  It's understandable: it's barely a song.  It sounds like someone took some drugs and mixed an outtake for the album.  It's completely insubstantial, which would be much less of a problem if it weren't more than four minutes long.  So we've clearly gone back to the weird portion of this record.

Yes, the last song, "F/D" is bizarre, but it's only bizarre because it appears to be two completely different songs smashed on to the same track.  What's really interesting about it is that it's a clear breakdown between an Ian song and a Guy song.  The very quiet opening features a straightforward chord progression with McKaye's rhyme-y punk rock vocals and an up tempo drum beat.  But there's a break and then the Guy song comes crashing down, full of dramatic guitar and vocals.  Yet for the twangy, high end guitar part, buried underneath it is a simple, driving guitar part that is, again, classic McKaye.

After a few seconds of silence when the song ends, we get outtakes from "No Surprises," like a reminder that this album was all about experimentation.

"Red Medicine" was a much more together album, but "End Hits" was a clear bridge to where Fugazi was headed. 

Fugazi Part Two: Steady Diet of Nothing and In on the Killtaker

Steady Diet of Nothing
"Steady Diet of Nothing" is my least favorite Fugazi album, mostly because there's so little variation to it.  The songs all have the same basic feel to them.  The dynamics that were building on "Repeater" seemed to take a back seat on this album.  The band didn't evolve like I'd expected them to.

Don't get me wrong, "No Exit" has a nice climax, although it's so insubstantial up until that point that almost anything would have felt climatic.  "Reclamation" is a stand out, and more of the type of thing I was expecting from them given the songs on "Repeater."  But "Nice New Outfit" introduces a rhythmic guitar part that seems to show up in some form or another on multiple songs.  Coupled with the similar structure of a lot of the songs, the whole album feels kind of monotone.

There's also a darkness to this album.  There was a certain amount of punk rock joy on "13 Songs," and you could actually feel the creative excitement on "Repeater."  That seems to have been sapped for "Steady Diet of Nothing."  Perhaps it's because of how simple many of the songs seem.  I'm listening to "Long Division" right now and I think it's a great song, but it's ostensibly one part over and over again, much the way "No Exit" was just two parts.  Everything's at the same tempo, all the songs are fairly simple -- it just all feels the same to me.

Interestingly enough, it's the last song, "KYEO," that stands out from the monotony.  Nothing like that opening guitar line appears anywhere else on the album.  The rest of the song seems to benefit from it, as even the bass/drums verse seems to have more energy to it than anything else on the record.  The duel vocals push the song forward and the alternate chorus elevates the song and the final few "we will not be beaten down" resonate in a way that nothing else on the album has.

In on the Killtaker
If there was a darkness about "Steady Diet of Nothing," "In on the Killtaker" was Fugazi exorcising it.

"Killtaker" alternately features the most aggressive and, up until that point, the most beautiful songs Fugazi had recorded.

If you were unsure what you were going to get after "Steady Diet of Nothing," you knew from the first song, "Facet Squared."  Open with some playful guitar noises, lay down a nice bass/drums groove, then explode into a driving, closed fist punch of a song, complete with McKaye's forceful, grunting vocals.  This is a Fugazi that will not be ignored, something that was easy to do on the last album.  They're not holding back this time around.

Still unsure?  Welcome to "Public Witness Program."  They're in full on attack mode now, yet the vocals are only getting more and more catchy.  The guitar interplay at around the 1:15 mark lets you know that this energy isn't for show; you're going to get Fugazi's all on this record, and nothing less.

Then we get the first wild card: "Returning the Screw."  It's quiet and sparse, but McKaye's vocals tell you
that there's something boiling underneath the surface.  And when it explodes -- and does it ever -- you realize that the energy from the first two songs is still here, just less frantic and more powerful.

I could go on and on about "Smallpox Champion," but it would just be sad because I love the hell out of that song.  When they move into the second half of the song, I get goosebumps.

And that's just the first four songs!  I haven't even gotten to "Rend It," "Sweet and Low," "Walken's Syndrome," or, perhaps the best song on the album and the best "slow" song Fugazi has ever recorded, "Last Chance for a Slow Dance."  This was clearly a band on a mission.

It's interesting to note the titles of the four albums I've talked about so far.  "13 Songs" is almost tongue in cheek, like a refusal to actually name the collection of songs from two EPs.  In Fugazi's mind, it wasn't even an album at all, but a compilation.

Apparently, "Repeater" wasn't just named after the song, but was a play on the Beatles "Revolver," since a revolver is both a type of gun and a recorded -- the same as a repeater.  What better sign is there of a band embracing their creative energies than by dropping an allusion like that?

But the playfulness of the first two albums disappears and we get "Steady Diet of Nothing."  Not exactly a shiny, happy album name.  And then what comes after that?  "In on the Killtaker."  It's like depression and aggression, back to back.

This was all a part of the evolution of Fugazi, and evolution that would grow by leaps in bounds on the next two records.

Fugazi Part One: 13 Songs and Repeater

Pearl Jam doesn't get enough credit.

I think every generation has those bands who are immensely popular and are very open about their not so popular influences.  Nirvana did the same thing, although they were, like most of Pearl Jam, more interested in promoting their fellow Seattle bands, the ones who had played big parts in their lives but weren't getting the same attention.

Eddie Vedder, lead singer of Pearl Jam, was vocal about his favorite bands.  He would go so far as to sing bits of their songs during concerts.

Way back in my high school days, I got my first ever bootleg.  It was a recording of Pearl Jam playing at a small club in Paard van Troje in the Netherlands.  It was, appropriately enough, called Pearl Jam: Small Club.

The 8th song of that show, after "Black" and before "Release," was a song that Pearl Jam, to my knowledge, never actually recorded, which is actually for the best, as it's not a particularly good song.  On the bootleg, it's titled "Saying No," and it's more or less about rape.  It's a four minute song and at the three minute mark, Eddie Vedder stops singing his own lyrics.  Instead, he sings the outro of a song called "Suggestion."

This was my introduction to Fugazi.

13 Songs
In the winter of '94, I had a CD player, but I didn't use it much.  I was still mostly listening to casettes, so that's what I bought: "7 Songs" (sometimes known as "Fugazi") by Fugazi which included not only the aforementioned "Suggestion," but "Waiting Room," which was, for whatever reason, Fugazi's best known song.  It was easily my favorite on that tape, although I loved "Bad Mouth" an awful lot, too.

Not long after that, I got "Margin Walker," the cassette that made up the other half of what is considered to be Fugazi's first album, "13 Songs."  "Margin Walker" solidified my enjoyment of Fugazi, as the songs began to become more complicated.  That opening to "Margin Walker" (the song), the bass line in "And the Same," the vocals in "Burning, Too" -- all great stuff.  And that's ignoring what was, I had been told, Fugazi's real classic, "Promises."

At this point in my life, I knew enough about guitar/bass/drums/vocals music to appreciate well crafted, creative songs when I heard them.  The only hesitance I really had to fully embracing Fugazi was Ian McKaye's voice.  His were not the polished vocals that I was used to.  Even the other non-mainstream bands I listened to (Jawbox, Sunny Day Real Estate, Velocity Girl) had, if not clear, than clean vocals.  McKaye sounded like he was grunting out his lyrics, which took some time for me to get used to.  Fortunately, I took to Guy Picciotto's vocals right away.

But as much as I liked "13 Songs," I hadn't completely fallen for Fugazi.  No, that would happen when I quickly moved to "Repeater."

The nice thing about coming late to the Fugazi party is that there were already four albums out when I started listening to them.

Repeater
If I had any doubts about how great Fugazi was, those were removed when I heard the title track on "Repeater."  The chorus is not remotely something you'd expect from anything resembling a punk band.  And that rhythm section?  Holy cow.  This was a band that clearly knew what they had in Joe Lally and Brendan Canty, and they knew enough to stay out of their way when they were on.

"Merchandise" and "Blueprint" could be the best back-to-back tracks on any Fugazi album.  The former was
just the kind of anti-establishment anthem that was perfect for an angry 19 year old.  The latter still gives me goosebunps at the end.

And let's not forget the driving "Greed," which is ostensibly just two parts, yet still works, or the triumphant "Styrofoam."  Is "Reprovisional" cheating a little bit?  Maybe, but it's a great example of how the band had evolved in just two albums.  "Shut the Door" is a great follow-up to "Promises" from "13 Songs," and is another step in the dynamic intensity Fugazi was quickly excelling at.

"Repeater" (the album) is also noteworthy because it's the beginning of the duel guitar formation that would stick with them over the rest of their career.  Guy Picciotto quickly become an excellent song writer, and I think his influence on Ian McKaye pushed them both forward as guitarists.

After two albums, I was hooked.  Fugazi's next two albums would, to me, show a big change in their music.

Fruitful: Great Expectations

I don't have expectations for my son.

I have expectations for myself.

I suppose all parents say that in the beginning.  No, strike that, I don't think that's true.  I'm sure there are plenty of fathers out there who are daydreaming about their star athlete son.  I'm guessing mothers are less ridiculous and probably daydream about their daughters just being able to do whatever they want in life, not getting paid 70% of what her brother makes, not having to be harassed by men.

Man, I'm glad we're not having a girl.

My expectations are that I will allow my son to be whoever he wants to be or, I suppose, whoever he really is.  I don't want to push him into anything, although I know that's next to impossible.  I'm going to influence him in ways I won't even be able to comprehend until years down the line.  He's not going to know any better and I'm going to ask him to watch Indians' games with me.  He's already got more superhero attire than is probably healthy for a child.  I'm imprinting him and he's not even here yet.

This a great article about Generation X, although I suppose it's less an article and more a rant.  But it's a rant that I agree with, one that is about as dead on as anything I've ever read about my generation (and it's true -- for a generation that was so noteworthy in the 90's, we've really been lost in the shuffle between the Boomers and the Millennials, who get way more press than is good for anyone).

One part of the article is about my generation being used to disappointment.  We're used to having things not go our way.  The reality of the situation is that our parents achieved an unprecedented level of success, so when it was our turn there was really no where to go but down.  And that was fine with us, because we were never sure we wanted that life, anyway.  We always had a strange distrust of it, like perhaps we knew we couldn't have it, so why become invested?

So what does my generation place on our children?  I think, because our parents achieved so much, Generation X were taught that material things were important.  Status was important.  Success meant a nice house in the suburbs, two nice cars, a trip to Disney every year or so.  Even if our parents didn't come out and say that's what they wanted for us, it was implied.  And that was fine.

But I never wanted any of that and I don't want any of it for my kid, not unless he wants it.  Maybe he will.  He's going to be growing up in something very close to the above scenario and maybe it will impact him so much that he'll spend his time trying to build a life like the one his parents have.

I hope not.  At least, I hope he doesn't do it because he thinks he's supposed to.

And yet at the same time I know children are just as likely to pursue things that are the opposite of what their parents did.  It feels like so much of what we, as children, do is to either follow in our parents' footsteps or dramatically avoid them -- intentionally avoid them.  In which case, I'm again influencing my son because of my behavior.

I know, this seems like some crazy, New Age philosophy going on here.  I know that Nicole and I are going to influence our kid(s) whether we like it or not.  I just hope we don't take anything away from him.

The funny thing about this is how high minded it is, when the reality is that raising a kid is generally anything but.  It's all well and good for me to have these big ideas about raising our son, but I'm not in the thick of it yet.  My ideas in theory are going to be very different when they're forced into practical application.

I have a lot of hopes for the Appleseed, but no expectations.

Let's see where I'm at with that in ten years.

Week 38!  We're 95% of the way there!

Fruitful: The Upside of Being Crazy

I've often said that 9 months of build up to the birth of our child is agonizing, as it's nine months I can spend thinking about what our life will be like once this little bundle of joy arrives.  And while I think I've done a good job of making sure that a great many of those thoughts are positive, an awful lot of them have also been negative.  I've reached a few full on, end of the world type scenarios.

I'm preparing myself for the worst.  It's something I'm very good at.

In this particular case, it's going to work out well for me -- and, honestly, assuming the worst has generally been a self fulfilling prophecy in my life.  But there are rare occasions when I expect something to be as horrible as anything can possibly be, and then I'm pleasantly surprised when it's only just regular old horrible.

And that is how I've been thinking about my impending fatherhood.

I have visions of getting 5, non-consecutive hours of sleep a week.  I picture my wife, ragged bathrobe, curlers in her hair, and somehow now a smoker.  I picture piles of feces stained laundry that never gets any smaller.  I imagine that we board up our windows and doors and that I have to wear sunglasses to work as my eyes can no longer tolerate sunlight.  I imagine myself, defeated, kneeling, praying to our child to release me from this horrid existence.  I picture blood, sweat, and tears, but mostly tears.  And stains, lots and lots of stains of every variety.  I'm pretty sure I will never go to work clean ever again.

My mom told me that I was great at projectile vomiting when I was a baby.  I expect the same of my son.  I expect every wall in our house to be painted over with whatever baby food we eventually feed him.  We'll start buying furniture and pictures to match the stains.  We'll only feed him certain foods because we know his vomit will match the decor.

I will lose what little weight I still have, yet surprisingly my gut will continue to get larger.  The bags under my eyes will have bags under them.  They grey in my beard will spread to my head and I'll notice a bald spot that I'll swear wasn't there a few weeks ago.

Nicole and I will lose the ability to communicate with other human beings.  We will only respond with a series
By Steve Schapiroof grunts that only we understand.  We will require absolute silence from any visitors, even if the baby is wide awake.  We'll fail to notice when the other one has fed the cats until their bowl looks like the dog bowl at the beginning of "Back to the Future."  The entire hallway bathroom, which now houses the litter box, will become a litter box.

I figure at some point we'll both start hallucinating.  I also figure that we'll hallucinate about what our lives used to be like.

But here's the thing: It won't be like that.  I've been told by actual people with actual children that it won't be like that.  They've told me that we will adapt, that we will be fine.

I'm not listening, though.  Because I need to prepare for the worst.  That's how I operate.  I need to prepare for the worst in case they're all wrong.  And I need to prepared for the worst in hopes that they're right, and I'll be relieved.

I'm not convinced.

Week 37!!

I am a jealous writer.

All of it.  I'm jealous of all of it.

I'm jealous of the work that other writers create.

I'm jealous of their Tweets and their Facebook updates.

I'm jealous of their process.

I'm jealous of the lives they've led.

I'm jealous of the lives they're leading.

I'm jealous of the words they cut from the first draft.

I'm jealous of the way they read their stories aloud.

I'm jealous of their hair and their clothes and their accessories that tell everyone they're writers.

I'm jealous of their work ethic and I'm jealous of their friends.

I'm jealous of each wonderful word that is so much better than the words I choose.

Reading is hard for me because reading is an exercise in torture.  There is a reason why I read a lot of comic books and fantasy fiction and it's not because it makes me feel feel comfortable (although it does): it's because I don't write either one of those things.  I can read comic books and not think to myself "I will never be able to write like that."  I can read fantasy fiction and not think "I will never think of something like this."

Comic books and fantasy fiction could be the only stories I can thoroughly enjoy.

That's not to say I don't love a good book and good short stories.  As jealous as I get when I read something great, I'm also inspired.  And given my hot and cold relationship with short stories, it's important to keep myself inspired.

Still, I'd love to be able to read something and just admire it for being great, perhaps take away some inspiration.  I hate the fact that I get jealous.  It's a reflection of my insecurities as a writer and I think those insecurities slow me down.  Of the myriad of things that prevent me from living up to my potential, I think my insecurities play the biggest part.

I suppose we all find motivation somewhere.  I just wish mine came from a more positive place.

Fruitful: Birthing Class

Hey, Nicole and I both dig some SupernaturalIt was 68 degrees and sunny on Saturday.

I don't say that to mock any of my Midwest and East Coast friends (okay, maybe a little), I say it so you understand that, even for Northern California, it was unseasonably warm.

Now stick thirty people in a room with windows that don't open during this unseasonably warm and sunny day.  And make sure the air conditioning is stuck on a setting that seems reasonable for January 25th, but not for this day in particular.

Oh, and half the people in this room are pregnant.

And the class we were all there for was 7 hours long.

This was our birthing class.

The modern day birthing class is a strange bird.  We live in a world where information is at our fingertips.  Everything you could possibly want to know about child birth can be found from the comfort of your couch.  Gone are the days of the weekly lamaze class.  The birthing class these days is more about getting to sit in a room with a health care professional and ask questions.

That's not to say that there wasn't a course being taught, because there was.  We learned about the three stages of child birth.  We talked a lot about pain management.  We even briefly touched on postpartum, which I actually think deserved more time.  I am not a woman and I am not giving birth any time soon, but it seems to me that the transition that occurs after giving birth is nearly as important as everything that came before.  A woman spends nine months building to the big moment, and then supposedly reverts to her
Women be crazy.previous state in something like six weeks.  That can't be easy.

I wouldn't say we learned an awful lot at the birthing class.  We got some information verified, got a few details ironed out.  But I don't feel like we'd be at a huge disadvantage if we hadn't gone.  I think we could have found all of this information online or in books (my wife probably knew all of it already, in fact).

No, what the birthing class did was make it all feel real.

"Kyle," you say, "how could it not have felt real before now?"

Well, it has, sure.  But it feels real in spurts.  And allow me, for the first time ever, to use my condescending almost parent voice and say that unless you are about to have a kid, it's impossible to understand.  Our world is going to change completely.  And while a lot of life altering moments happen out of the blue, this is one that has been lurking on the horizon for (at this point) 8 months.  That long of a build up makes it that much worse, which is crazy given how extreme of a life change it's going to be, anyway.

Seriously, at one point during the birthing class I actually thought to myself "holy shit, what the hell are we doing?"  I know Nicole had a moment like that herself.

Here's the thing: you are reading this at the 36 week mark, which means we've hit 90% complete and I still remember when we were taking "bump" pictures and wondering when a bump would be noticeable.  The time has flown by, and yet even back then I can remember thinking "holy shit, what the hell are we doing?"

I would imagine I'll keep thinking that until this kid is about 30 or so.

36 Weeks!!

Bio Mix: 2013

It's that time of the year, everyone, and I know you're excited!

Here's the deal: over the course of a year, I make 4 mixes, one for each quarter (aka 3 months) of the music I am listening to at that time.  When the year finally ends, I take the best songs from each quarter and create a mix for the year.

A caveat: this is music I'm listening to, not necessarily music that came out that year.  It will, however, been burned into my mind associated with the particularly year.

So here it is, my mix for 2013:

"Perfect Day" -- Constellations

Nothing I can say will do this groove-tastic song justice, so I'll give you the video.  I'll only add that this is the closing song to the first episode of a television series in my head.



"The Plot" -- White Rabbits

I will give you money if you can listen to this song three times without singing along to the Elvis Costello style chorus.  It's just not possible.

"What You Know" -- Two Door Cinema Club

I've noticed that over the last ten years or so I listen to a lot more of what you would call "danceable" music than I ever did before.  I find interesting given that I still don't dance.  If notey guitar lines and dance club beats are your thing, give this a listen.



"Quiet Little Voices" -- We Were Promised Jet Packs

When I got back in time in my head, I think a great many things, one of which is that I'd love to have been in a band that played this song.  It's crazy simple and super catchy.  It's actually kind of primal in its guitar parts.

"Permalight" -- Rogue Wave

 My fascination with Rogue Wave continues with one of their stranger songs, yet its still incredibly catchy.  These guys just make great, unique pop songs.

"Bohemian Like You" -- The Dandy Warhols

Yeah, I know, I always have some old songs on these mixes, but this one is going back a bit.  Sue me.  This song always makes me think of "Jumpin Jack Flash" by the Rolling Stones.  Aside from being super catchy, I love this song for the lyrics, which made me realize I've never really done the struggling musician thing.

"It's Time" -- Imagine Dragons

Oh, shut up.  I know, I know, this song was super popular and it's kind of cheesy, but I'm a sucker for a mandolin (or is that a banjo?) and the rhythm is infectious.  And even though it's not actually in the soundtrack for the movie, it reminds me of "Perks of Being a Wallflower," which I really loved.



"Infallible" -- Pearl Jam

This is perhaps the most inventive song Pearl Jam has produced in years.  It's got a nice groove, which helps create an excellent tone.  Beyond the measured guitars and keyboard, though, is the fantastic vocals.  I've always been a fan of Eddie Vedder, but he's taken his vocals to a new level here.  He's one of the greats.

"I Don't Know What To Do With My Hands" -- Minor Alps

This might be the song of the year for me; the tone here is just so phenomenal.  It's not often that a song really paints a picture in my head anymore, but this one did with startling clarity.  I also just love the title.



"Coyote" -- The Lonely Forest

This is kind of a strange one off, as it's the only song I really know by The Lonely Forest (who must curse Lonely Island every day).  The moment the second guitar kicked in on this song, they had me.  It creates a wonderful layer to the song.  And who doesn't love a little angst?

"Absinthe Party at the Fly Honey Warehouse" -- Minus the Bear

Good god, this song is unbelievable.  Had you told me that an acoustic version of this song would be this great, I'd have given you funny looks.  But Minus the Bear makes it work -- beyond makes it work, they make it almost as great as the original (that's up for debate).

"Road to Nowhere" -- Release the Sunbird

I'm sure many of you are thinking this is sacreligious.  And maybe you're right, but I think it's a really well done cover.  It also reminds me of the series finale of Gossip Girl and I'm sure you think that's a strange thing to hang my hat on, which means you should go check out my post on that show.

"The Oil Slick" -- Frightened Rabbit

I tore threw the latest Frightened Rabbit album so quickly that I ended up forgetting how good it was.  Fortunately, I had to go back and listen to it while putting together this mix.  While a lot of FR songs can become lyrically questionable, this one holds up nicely, and the song itself is super catchy.

"Proceed to Memory" -- Pinback

I love me some Pinback.  This is a weird song, though, because it starts off much differently than it eventually ends up.  In fact, the beginning is so at odds with the rest that it almost made me look past this gem.



"I Will Steal You Back" -- Jimmy Eat World

On a fairly standard Jimmy Eat World album, this song stuck out.  Honestly, I feel like you could take the last three or four Jimmy Eat World albums and combine them into one, super album, devoid of the growing amount of filler.

"Lake Michigan" -- Rogue Wave

The guy from Rogue Wave just abuses the English language.  I don't mean that he uses word incorrectly, I mean that he twists them into nigh unrecognizable sounds.  But, damn, if he still doesn't make some good music.  This is another song I will dare you to listen to three times without singing the chorus, even if you have no idea what he's actually saying.

"Gold On the Ceiling" -- The Black Keys

This song drives my wife batty because it makes no sense.  Bah!  I don't need sense in my music!  What a great sound on this song.  What a great album!  Love to see the Black Keys expanding their range and mixing up their influences.



"Smooth Sailing" -- Queens of the Stone Age

This song could have ended up on this list for just that one part, and if you've heard this song, you know exactly which part I'm talking about.  But, no, the whole thing is great, classic dirty, rhythmic Queens with those fantastic falcetto vocals that Josh Homme busts out every once in a while.

"Heartbeat" -- Childish Gambino

I really like "Camp."  But Donald Glover sometimes falls into that rapper pattern of talking about how great he is all the time, and in Glover's case it sometimes comes across as over compensating.  But in "Heartbeat," we get a pretty clear story and it's great.  These are the kinds of songs he should be doing.  Also, the last like two minutes are just filled with lyrical gold.



"Cut You" -- Cloud Nothings

I'm a sucker for the soft picking bridge between a verse and a chorus, which is why I ended up picking this song from Cloud Nothings second album.  Also, it's not 8 minutes long.  They lyrics are a bit on the trite side, but the music more than makes up for it.  This is some good old fashioned, 90s style post-hardcore, if any of what I just typed makes any sense to you.

There you go, my mix for 2013.  I listened to a lot of great music, even if most of it didn't come out last year.  Let's see if 2014 is different.

Fruitful: I miss my wife.

I miss my wife.

Don't get me wrong, I love Nicole as she is, very pregnant with our future offspring.  She is putting up with an awful lot and she has handled it incredibly well.  Were I in her position, I would be bitching and moaning until the cows come home, and I'm not even sure what that means.  She's more uncomfortable on a daily basis than I am at a company picnic, and that's saying something.  I just hope I've been able to make this whole thing easier on her in some way.

But sometimes I miss pre-pregnancy Nicole.

And, no, before you get all gross on me, I'm not talking about sex or anything relating to sex, you dirty pervs.

What I'm talking about is the two of us splitting a bottle of wine (and her drinking half a glass of a second bottle and leaving me to drink the rest by myself) on a Saturday night while we watch movies.  I miss playing Monopoly and drinking champagne on New Year's Eve.  I miss Nicole, while running errands on a Saturday, blurting out that we should stop at Starbucks so she can get a latte.

It's not the caffeine and alcohol, it's what came with the caffeine and alcohol.  And it's not just that.

I miss the weekends when we didn't have a laundry list of things to do, all of which involve getting ready for the baby to arrive.  I miss not thinking more than a week in advance.  I miss going to the movies, going out to dinner, staying up past 11.  I miss all those pre-pregnancy things.

I know Nicole misses these things, too.  I know it because she tells me.  I know she's starting to reach that point in the pregnancy where she's over it.  She's to the point now where she's experienced the miracle that is being pregnant and she's ready to move on to the next step.  She'd like to not have to put her feet up every night when she gets home from work or have trouble tying her shoe laces.

Of course things will never be the way they were.  We're going to be parents soon.  That pre-pregnancy life
has gone the way of the dodo.  But there is a happy medium, I think.  Our kid isn't always going to be a baby.  There will come a time, I'm told, that he'll sleep through the night, even be able to entertain himself for long periods of time.  But that's not happening any time soon, and if my wife has her way, there's going to be another hot on his heels.

I suppose it's ultimately a lot like how I miss Los Angeles.  It's hard for me to even think about L.A. and not missing living there.  It's almost hard to explain (lord knows I've tried) if you've never lived there.  But I know for a fact that I'm far too old to really enjoy living there any more. That is a town for young people, and as young as I may act, I've still out grown it.

And that's how I miss pre-pregnancy Nicole.  I miss the way things were before everything was about this little person we're bringing into the world.  But that was a different phase of my life, and I have no doubts that as this new moves forward, I may miss the old one, but I wouldn't want to go back there.

Still, I'm looking forward to that first post-pregnancy bottle of wine with my wife.  I know she is, too.

Week 35!!