Category Archives: Hey, what happened?

An Interview with Matt Fast of The Undecided

This post is a guest interview done by my friend Roy.

I worked at Tooth & Nail records from 2000 – 2004 and one of the bands I really enjoyed getting to know was the Canadian band The Undecided. While pop punk wasn’t the genre of music I normally gravitated toward, I really liked the guys in the band and their music grew on me. Thanks to Facebook I’ve had the opportunity to reconnect with The Undecided and was happy to discover some of the exciting things going on in their lives. I caught up with lead vocalist Matt Fast and we talked about life now that The Undecided isn’t full-time any longer. You can hear the band here.

Where do you currently live?

I currently live in Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada.

What do you do to pay the bills?

I pay the bills through student loans and scholarship money. (I am currently doing my Masters in Peace and Conflict Studies).

Are you still involved with music in any way (work for a label, play in a band, do press for a band, book shows, etc.) or any of the other arts (performing, visual, literary)?

As far as music goes I don’t really do much. I would love to though! I still write lyrics and stuff, but I don’t actually know if they’ll find their way into a song one day or not.

At what point did you decide to “give up” the touring and band life and why? Was there a sudden realization that you wanted to live in the “real world” or was it gradual?

I think there were a couple of reasons why we stopped touring. One of them was getting dropped from Tooth and Nail so that left us without a record label to put out our records. Another reason would be that at the time I was married (I’m now divorced), and our guitar player John Paul also got married around that time. When you’re a smaller band touring out of a van it’s hard to balance those things if you can’t bring your spouses on tour with you and you’re not making enough money to support the marriage. So we just sort of stopped touring. We still play maybe once a year or so if one of our friends is doing a benefit or something like that.

You’ve been away from being in a band for a while now. Looking back, what are some lessons you learned during that time?

I learned that nothing is given to you. I learned that to “make it” as a band (and by no means do I pretend that we ever made it) you have to spend a hell of a lot of time on the road. I also learned that it doesn’t necessarily matter how good you are as a band. A lot of your success has to do with networking. I don’t think we were good networkers and we didn’t dress the right way. HA!

So, you lived in Uganda for a while after The Undecided ended.

I initially went there just to do some volunteer work for a few months. I have my undergrad degree in International Development so I wanted to get some practical overseas experience. I went to volunteer with this organization that worked with former child soldiers. They were a well-intentioned org, but really unorganized. This was January 2008. Because they were so unorganized I felt my time was not being used properly so I left them and randomly met this dude who’s from the UK who had been in Uganda for several years at that time. He had worked for a few different organizations himself and was now starting his own so he told me I could come and volunteer with him for the remainder of my time. He was just moving into his office at the time so I bought a mattress, threw it on the floor of the office and slept there for the next 3 months. We were working in Kampala, the capital of Uganda, in a neighborhood called Namuwongo, which is one of the city’s largest and poorest slums – our back door literally opened to the slum. We did child sponsorship, micro-finance for women stuff – like that. I stayed there until April of 2008 and then he told me that I could apply for personal funding to this Irish organization, which personally supported him. So I did that and got accepted. In October 2008 I came back and stayed until October 2010. I got my housing paid for and 600 Euros a month to live off of.

Why did you choose to go to Uganda? Why not another country?

I had originally wanted to go to South Sudan, but I had a friend who had been to Uganda and she told me it was good so I checked it out. By the time I finished in Uganda our org had a child sponsorship program, micro-finance for women, vocational training for women, street kids program, medical clinic, we did HIV/AIDS awareness and testing. It was pretty awesome! The organization is called Uganda Hands for Hope: www.onlinehope.org

My perspective of Uganda is that it’s a war torn country with immense poverty and a lot of folks living with HIV/AIDS. What was it like moving there? What misconceptions did you have? How was it to adapt to a new culture like Uganda?

There is immense poverty in Uganda, especially in the community where I worked. You had open sewage running everywhere, no running water or toilets, small mud one-room houses that slept six or more people. It was on the edge of a swamp so lots of malaria, cholera and flooding. Many of the families that we worked with were war affected and had fled areas of conflict. That being said, you could drive through the capital city and think that the country is very rich and prosperous. There are plenty of high rises, plenty of fancy hotels which are $200-$300 per night, people in their land rovers etc., but the wealth is in the hands of the few. The rural areas are also very poor and there’s no social welfare

How do families in those areas most impacted by poverty and disease sustain themselves if there is no social welfare?

Some of the families we assisted who had small jobs in the informal economy would lose all their savings when one of their children would get sick. They’d have to spend all their savings on treatment. They wouldn’t have any money to put back in their business and so it would collapse. Many worked informal market jobs like selling vegetables or fish, wash people’s clothes or stuff like that. Over 80% of the people we assisted lived on less than $1 a day and most of those were single parents (mom) with an average of four kids.

So when someone gets too old to take care of themselves does it fall back on the family to take care of them or are they just SOL?

The family takes care of the elderly, but they often don’t reach that age.

Here in America the conservative wing of our government often talks about shutting down or scaling back social services. The idea is that if we all just had control of our own money then we could invest it and get rich. However, a lot of folks are barely sustaining themselves and their families. Saving and investing are not even options. Granted, the situation in Uganda and America are very different and I am hesitant to even compare them but I bring it up to demonstrate what could happen here in America or Canada if the government completely gets out of the business of taking care of its impoverished citizens.

In Uganda there is decent healthcare, but you have to pay for it. They have sort of a two-tier kind of system where you have private care, which is well funded and resourced for the wealthy. And then you have the public hospitals, which are grossly underfunded and understaffed. You have to wait all day just to get in and if you have to stay overnight you have to bring your own toilet paper, bedding, food, etc. You also have to have someone take care of you; the nurses do not do that. So that means a relative or a caregiver has to come and bring you food, bathe you, etc., and that means if they’re doing that, then they’re not working which means they’re losing valuable income especially for those living hand to mouth

You mentioned to me that you were a lot more diverse in your own personal beliefs and in how you live your life now compared to when you were in a band on Tooth & Nail. What did you mean by that?

Well, I guess for starters I don’t go to church anymore. I still believe in ‘god’ but I don’t believe that the Bible is the infallible word of god. I think there are some good lessons to be learned from the Bible, particularly from Jesus and his message of Love, but there are some other things where I just shake my head.

Did that transition have an impact on your family or are you still “in the closet”? 

I wouldn’t say my family is conservative so it hasn’t had much of an impact. I’m a Mennonite, but that can mean different things to different people. My parents are pretty liberal in their theology nowadays. I mean, they probably wish I went to church but I can have a good discussion with them about the way I see things and they appreciate it.

Over the last couple years the international community has come down on Uganda because of what came to be known as the “Kill the Gays” bill.  Can you speak to how that impacted the country or how that bill even came to be?

For starters, homosexuality is already illegal in Uganda as it is in most African countries. This new bill, which was being proposed by a member of parliament named David Bahati, wanted to push for the death penalty if someone was found guilty of “being gay.” It also included imprisonment for anyone who knew people who were gay but did not turn them in to authorities. Apparently an evangelical American group who came to Uganda and worked with churches and members of parliament heavily influenced this bill. Thankfully there’s been huge international pressure from the U.S., Sweden, Canada, etc., to kill the bill or they would cut all funding to Uganda. So far this had been successful, as I don’t think Uganda would be able to function without funding from the States. The backlash against this is that people are saying homosexuality is a “disease” of the West and that Africans will no longer be told what to do by the West. They’re framing it in colonial terms. Of course there’s the whole propaganda machine, which tries to tell people that homosexuals are the same as pedophiles, which you also see being used by the Christian right in North America.

When I hear that I think surely no one believes that anymore but low and behold some Christian organization runs with it. I still don’t understand completely why so many high profile, anti-gay Christian leaders here in America got involved in that.

Yes, very odd indeed.

Once you finish your masters degree, do you plan on returning to Uganda?

I’d love to return to Uganda as I still have a lot of friends there and of course I still have a personal connection and feel a personal interest in the organization I was with. I was there from its inception and helped to build it up. But I’m open to going anywhere there’s work. I would love to work in the West Bank or Gaza and also South Sudan but we’ll see where the wind blows.

Let’s get back to your time in The Undecided. What are a few of your fondest memories?

One would be our very first tour in ’96 way before we were signed. We booked our own tour and played Gilman Street. That was pretty cool just given its history. Another would be playing Warped Tour. Another would be swimming in the ocean in Pensacola. We had a day off and just went. I’ll never forget that day; I just felt so free. To be honest a lot of the good memories weren’t necessarily playing the shows, but just hanging out with three of my best friends in the world and trying to make something out of what we created. Laughing with them and the banter in the van. All the shitty sleeps in the van, driving all through the night to get to the next show half way across the country, all that kind of stuff. At the time you’re like “this sucks” but in reality not very many people have the opportunity to do what we did with their best friends. It was pretty special.

Do you still speak with the other members of the band?

All of us guys in the band are still really close. I hang out with Steve at least once a week if not more – he’s married now and does computer work. I see Dan a few times a week as well, as we play on the same hockey team – he’s a firefighter and also married now. And we don’t see John Paul quite as often because he’s super busy with work and family. He owns and runs his own studio so as a producer / engineer. He works crazy hours and then he’s also married with two kids so he’s quite busy, but we catch up whenever we can.

Are you content with not living the “rock and roll” lifestyle of your past or do you miss it? (Please note: I use the phrase “rock and roll lifestyle” loosely.)

I’d say I’m content with where I am now. I love academics and I love what I’m studying so I’m very happy with that. Touring and playing music was definitely awesome and it’s something not everyone gets the opportunity to do so I feel quite privileged to have had that chance. I sometimes wish we would have put more effort into it to see where it could really take us, but I suppose the timing was never right, as we always seemed to be at different stages in our lives as band members so it was hard to get us all to commit to that lifestyle at the same time. But hey, I have no regrets!

Do you feel as though you can still relate to the person you were when you were in a band and touring? Why or why not?

Although I’m a much different person in many ways since our touring days I can still relate. I still care about much of the same stuff as far as social issues go, etc. But I’m definitely a lot more mature and a lot more diverse in my own personal beliefs and how I live my life. That part has probably been the most significant change in my life. I used to be very sure of what I believed regarding religion or faith, whereas now I’m not so sure. I don’t believe a lot of the stuff I used to, or at least I’m a lot more skeptical of it.


Hey, what happened? An interview with Jeff Ott from Fifteen and Crimpshrine

I was having a hard time with life this past year and a friend suggested that I start listening to Fifteen more because it would help me feel better. And while the process of getting well, mentally speaking, is a complex one, listening to Fifteen (along with some other music) really did help take the edge off some downer days.

 

Where do you currently live?

I live in rural Lake County, California, in a town of 200 – mainly seniors.

What do you do to pay the bills?

I sporadically work as a public health nurse, and have been mainly paying my bills with student loans.

Are you still involved with music in any way (work for a label, play in a band, do press for a band, book shows, etc.) or any of the other arts (performing, visual, literary)?

Fifteen did two shows last month. That was a onetime occurrence. A friend asked us to do a benefit for his wife’s medical bills. I also play shows acoustically whenever a friend is doing a benefit and asks.

At what point did you decide to “give up” the touring and band life and why? Was there a sudden realization that you wanted to live in the “real world” or was it gradual?

I toured in 1999 with Fifteen, in 2002 with my first book, and in 2005 with my second book. I’m not sure that I have stopped, but I am sure that college has taken over my life in a big way. In many ways I think touring is closer to real life than what we ordinarily call real life. When you are on tour you have a tribe, in “real life” you don’t.

Do you still speak with the other members of the band (Fifteen and Crimpshrine)?

As I said above, I have hung out with past Fifteen members a lot lately. I’ve been talking to everyone from Crimpshrine in order to move the albums onto a new label and off of Lookout Records.

Are you content with not living the “rock and roll” lifestyle of your past or do you miss it? (Please note: I use the phrase “rock and roll lifestyle” loosely.)

I got sober before I stopped doing bands, so my lifestyle is really not changed much since I stopped doing bands. What I do miss is that when I did bands and squatted I didn’t have to work at all and so I had a lot of time for political work. Once you have bills and kids it gets very hard to not work.

Do you feel as though you can still relate to the person you were when you were in a band and touring? Why or why not?

Sure I can. Hopefully I can stretch enough to relate to anybody.


An interview with Mona Elliott of Travels and Victory at Sea

I originally tracked down Mona Elliott in the hopes of doing an interview about her time in Victory At Sea, as part of the “Hey, what happened?” series of interviews. But then I learned she’s still putting out excellent music as a duo (with Anar Badalov, formerly of Metal Hearts) named Travels. Mona and I got together at a bar in her current home of Somerville, Massachusetts, and did this interview. If you would like to listen to Travels (and you really should because they are quite good), you can do so here.

Travels

You had mentioned in your email about being in school?

Yeah, I’m at Mass Art.

Undergraduate or Graduate?

Undergraduate.

What are you working on?

I’m figuring it out. I like graphic design. I like video work. I like making art for fun, but this is definitely a whole different animal.

What do you mean?

I’ve never been to college. This is my very first time. So there’s all that happening to me and around me.

Why did you decide to go to school?

I never went. I was on tour all the time. I always wanted to go but you can’t tour if you’re in school.

So you’ve been touring since you were 18?

Pretty much. My first tour was when I was probably 20.

Is it weird being amongst a lot younger students?

It’s exactly what you think it would be. They’re just people, too. There are some really cool people I go to school with and then there are some very young, immature people. But you can excuse it because they’re only 18 or 20 or 25. It’s not weird, really, but I get a little embarrassed sometimes because I’m much older. I just started being okay with speaking up and being myself but for a while I just wanted to hide. Not who I was – I guess it is weird.

Are you ever like, “I hate it! Why am I even there?”

Some days I do hate it there and feel like, “I’m too old for this.” And other days it’s the best decision I’ve ever made and I’ve learned so much.

I was recently talking with someone about my impressions of the Boston music scene and was wondering what your thoughts are on it. Have you felt supported here?

Yes and no. I’m so far removed from it now, honestly, I don’t even know what it means. What scene? Who are they? Who supports me? I guess I don’t even know what that means anymore. I used to feel like I was in a scene and was supported and would play with a certain group of people but it’s not even what I’m interested in anymore. I don’t go out as much – I’m broke. I’m a full-time student and I’m not working right now.

It’s such a big answer to such a simple question. But I don’t want to say no because at times I have felt that way – supported. And in other ways I feel that maybe the community I belonged to, everyone grew up and moved on. So in a way, yes and in a way, no.

It’s weird how it changes over the years. You probably used to care about “the scene” a lot and who you knew and where you fit in and as you get older –

It’s funny – I didn’t even know I cared about those things. I honestly didn’t think I was caring about those things but now I realize it was all just part of it. I didn’t care but in hindsight it was reality.

That kind of leads me to wonder…I was and am a big fan of Victory at Sea and I was wondering what broke up the band.

I was married to another member and we’re divorced.

Ah, ok. So that kind of did it in.

Yeah.

Do you talk to any of the members of the band anymore?

I do. I still talk to my ex. We’re good. We email. There’s a long list of drummers. I’m in infrequent touch with them. And then Taro, our violin player, is in Japan, and we message on Facebook.

Victory at Sea

So you were married to the bass player?

He was the bass player at first and then he ended up playing the piano. And he plays around quite a bit.

Not just back then, but even now with Travels – what’s your favorite place to play in the city?

I don’t know. We just booked a show for March and we’re playing at O’Brien’s. Every time I’ve gone there it’s seemed like a friendly crowd with not too much smoke blowing up peoples’ asses. It is what it is. We’ve played at PA’s Lounge a couple times and it’s the same way. At this point in time I want to stay away from the rock scene thing. I just want to play and have fun. I want to put out music because I like it.

So I’m not sure what my favorite place to play is anymore. Travels has only played at Lily Pad and that was really fun. And we’ve played at PA’s.

When you were in Victory at Sea, was that your full-time gig?

Well, we’d go on tour a lot and then I was also an ice cream maker. I was doing a lot but it didn’t pay the rent.

What do you mean when you say you were an ice cream maker?

It was just me and another guy and we made ice cream for restaurants around the area.

So do you ever miss the rock and roll lifestyle? Keeping in mind I use that phrase loosely.

No. I think it gave me cancer. Honestly. I know I lived very unhealthy. And when you’re physically unhealthy there’s no way you can be mentally and emotionally healthy. It’s a very unhealthy lifestyle.

How was it unhealthy for you?

I was doing it for so many years. You don’t sleep. You’re not eating right. You’re drinking every night because that’s what you get for free. I was smoking heavily – so was the whole band. You try to quit but you can’t because everybody’s smoking. Even this last one we did – me and Anar are super tame compared to our days in Victory at Sea but every day getting to bed at three and maybe you have to get up at nine and then you’re driving and don’t know where you’re going. There’s the stress of just getting somewhere and wondering if anyone is going to show up – it’s just stressful.

When you start out you just think, “It’s gonna be fun!”

And it is.

Yeah, but you don’t think about all the stressful stuff. So if I say your band name – Victory at Sea – what pops into your head first? Is there some memory that comes out?

It was so long of a time. And considering there were so many different drummers, it felt like a different band each time. Then the dynamic changed and the way I would relate to each drummer was completely different. Our last drummer, Dave, he was like a brother to me. He was awesome. The way I think of that version of Victory at Sea is so different than our first drummer in the mid 90s.

So you mentioned a minute ago that you had cancer at some point?

I was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2007.

Is it in remission?

Officially, I’ll have my five-year – which they consider being cured – in May. May 17th. Which is also a big deal because I’ve been on medication, which I’m very excited to no longer take.

Travels

Did that affect what you were writing in Travels?

It did. I wasn’t doing a lot of the writing. I was very shocked and focused on my treatment and getting better. So I feel like Anar did a lot of keeping it going, which is what I needed. It affected me in the sense that I didn’t put my whole self into it whereas now I feel like I am and I can.

But does it affect the actual songs you’re writing?

Yeah. Right after I had cancer my mom was diagnosed with lung cancer and she passed away in 2009. And back to back with those things happening made it harder to write lyrics. So right now we’re leaning towards writing non-personal stories.

Fictional stuff?

Yeah.

Does that mean you’re going to write a concept album?

Yeah.

About what?

So far it’s about a woman whose son dies. We don’t talk about the son dying, but it’s more about her remembering the things that happened with him. It gets dreamy and you’re left wondering, “Is he alive? Is he dead?” We’ve got three songs so far and they go right into each other like a story. Right now, the new album we’re working on, there’s no electronic drums. We just got a suitcase and Anar is playing it like a bass drum, and a snare drum. He’s playing keyboards with his left hand. I was in the living room the other day and it sounded like electronic drums. So simple beats.

So, you mean an actual suitcase?

Yeah. Travels. Get it? It’s fun. And it was also only three bucks at the Goodwill. So a three-dollar bass drum – not bad. And since there are no electronic drums, the songs are tending to be a little bit longer.

So you’re steering clear of your own illness in the songwriting?

Now? Yes.

It just seems like some people have those things they have to get all out on an album and other people never want to talk about it.

Well, I used to want to write it all out. But this was just too much.

And I also don’t know if I’m making this up or read it somewhere – I surf the internet a lot – but you and Anar are in a relationship?

We are.

How does that affect the songwriting and music?

It’s really good for us because we practice in the house and we’re quiet. I don’t feel like I’m in a band. It feels more like I play music with my boyfriend. This is what we do. It’s something we both like to do. Some couples might want to do what they want to do together and we like to play music.

I always wondered how it was to be in a relationship with your bandmate and you’re trying to write songs about relationships.

We’ve done it and it’s worked out because we get along very well and we’re very much in love. It’s all nice.

You were talking about not using the drum machine anymore. Why is that? I liked the drums.

I did too. Maybe it’ll just be this record, maybe it’ll be for good. I don’t know. For this one we’re just going to see what happens.

So was that a natural progression or something you wanted to force?

The other day we were at practice and I was watching him play this suitcase and the piano at the same time, trying to learn two new instruments all at once and we’re going on tour at the beginning of March and I was thinking, “How the fuck did this happen?” I don’t know. It just happened. There are still a couple songs that we’re going to do on this upcoming tour where we’ll have the drum machine so that we can play the old ones.

Travels

I’ve noticed that you seem to take more of the lead on the vocals – is that intentional?

It’s not intentional. I feel it sort of happened over time.

What kind of music have you been listening to lately?

I’ve been listening to Blondie and there’s this guy – I don’t know his name – but he’s this Iranian psych rocker from the 70s. And we got a three record thing. It’s so good.

Where did you find it?

Anar was at the record store in Union Square and he saw the cover and wanted it but didn’t get it because it was like 30 bucks and came home and looked it up online and then ran and got it.

What does Anar do for work?

He’s an associate publicist for the MIT Press.

For a minute there I thought you were going to say he was an associate pastor.

Oh, you didn’t know? *laughs*

I thought, well, if that’s the case, then I just came up with a few more questions. *laughs* But I guess otherwise, that should do it.

“Burr Song,” the first track from Travels’ Robber on the Run album.


Hey, what happened? An interview with Brian Wyrick from Mara’akate

Brian played guitar in Mara’akate. One time I jumped on his back when he was playing a show and it caused him to twirl the headstock of his guitar back and it hit me in the face. I bled all over. It was pretty badass.

Where do you currently live?

I currently reside in Indianapolis, specifically in the “SoBro” neighborhood. That is short for “South Broad Ripple.” Clever, isn’t it?

What do you do to pay the bills?

I am currently Chief Operating Officer at an interactive marketing agency called Raidious. I also own a company called Wyrick Media, from which I do technology consulting, build websites, run live webcasts, publish podcasts, publish music, and do lots of other geeky stuff.

Are you still involved with music in any way (work for a label, play in a band, do press for a band, book shows, etc.) or any of the other arts (performing, visual, literary)?

I am still involved. I ran a music blog/podcast called RockitBomb for a minute, but it was a lot of work and I burnt out pretty quick. I recently put Thin Fevers to bed, which was a band I started in 2005 when Mara’akate got back from Europe. I recently started a new music project, but the last two years have mostly seen me going to the occasional show and that is about it.

At what point did you decide to “give up” the touring and band life and why? Was there a sudden realization that you wanted to live in the “real world” or was it gradual?

Well, Mara’akate broke up, and it wasn’t going to work for me to tour alone. Thin Fevers had plans to tour, but kids, jobs, and not being 23 kept us home.

Do you still speak with the other members of the band (Mara’akate)?

When I can. Colin and Derek are still doing Phoenix Bodies (I think) so I see them around a bit.  Josh and I work on the occasional project together, and I am Facebook friends with Clint. Phil, however, continues to elude me.

Are you content with not living the “rock and roll” lifestyle of your past or do you miss it? (Please note: I use the phrase “rock and roll lifestyle” loosely.)

My life is way more rock and roll now than it was, I think. There is something about having laser focus on this thing you are doing with guys who are all as passionate about it as you – you know, that whole “us versus the world” thing. It’s always hard to get the same feeling after you’ve been in a band like that. I kind of binged on Mara’akate. I found out about that entire scene, jumped in, did a couple of tours, when to Europe, and broke up. After the band broke up is when I really found out there was a scene, and drama, and all of that so I jumped ship. I mentioned Thin Fevers earlier – I did a lot of growing up in real life during that band, and didn’t get a chance to tour, so we really became a scene band, which was really hard for all of us. I felt like I went from being in a band that said “we do this, and you’ll like it – if you don’t, forget it” to a band that still had that attitude, but not a lot of momentum to push it forward. We wrote some awesome songs, but it was time to end it when we did.

Do you feel as though you can still relate to the person you were when you were in a band and touring? Why or why not?

I can definitely relate. I mean, I am the same person, and I’ve always held on to music. I feel right now like I am getting closer to a master amalgamation of all of the things that make up me – a balance if you will. The new project I am working on is heavy and is bringing me back into touch with some awesome people – some of the same people I met and played with during Mara’akate. It’s fun and heavy and loud, and I think it will go ever very well.

Here is a video Brian made from when they played a show in South Bend, Indiana. God help me but I grew up around there.


Hey, what happened? An interview with Ryan Gerber from Ethel Meserve

I originally wrote this piece about Ethel Meserve for issue #14 of my zine and thought it would make a good introduction to the interview with Ryan Gerber (Gerb). He played guitar and sang in the band.

Like a good deal of the music I seem to have enjoyed in my life, I only caught on to Ethel Meserve after they broke up. Named after a store in their hometown which was also the name of the proprietor, this four-piece was around from approximately 1995-1999 and put out an EP, The Milton Abandonment, as well as a handful of seven inches. Their final album, Spelling the Names, was a posthumous release, which was also the final release for Tree Records (Julie Doiron, Pinback, A-Set, Jen Wood, etc.). It’s a compilation of songs from their seven inches and various compilations they were on (including the excellent (Don’t Forget to) Breathe on Crank! Records). Both albums are good; The Milton Abandonment may only have six songs but most of the songs average six minutes in length.

The band came out of a background of early 90s emo, with influences ranging from Split Lip and Giants Chair to Knapsack and Don Caballero. Ethel Meserve was from State College, Pennsylvania, home of Penn State University, but the majority of the members of the band were actually townies, having gone to high school together. They were a traditional rock four-piece with a couple of singers, one pulling more weight than the other. In their short existence they were like lots of other bands in their scene: college kids playing basement shows or small clubs for 20-50 people, having a few very devoted fans and all along the way trying to gain new ones. Little did they know that even with a limited reach they would be affecting people like myself (and I’m sure I’m not the only one) almost ten years later.

Even with their relative unknown status, Ethel Meserve was able to influence many other bands including All State Champion and Hot Cross (ex-Saetia). I talked to Greg, the drummer from Hot Cross, a few years ago and asked him about influences and he said, “We just wanted to be a faster version of Ethel Meserve.” And it’s one of those things similar to hearing Bono say that when U2 first started they were influenced by Joy Division: it totally changes how you listen to the music and think of the band. Getting a good grasp on influences can be a real ear-opener, so to speak.

One of the effects of bands such as Ethel Meserve upon me is that it brings to mind a number of past feeling and emotions. A lot of this album reminds me of being in college and driving to see bands like Chamberlain and Mid Carson July (who often played with Ethel Meserve). Lyrically, the band is like their peers at the time, fairly obscure. The words open themselves up to the listener to make their own decision as to the meaning. My only complaint is that not having the CD copy, I have no idea what the lyrics are to most of the songs, as they’re not easily found on the internet either.

Being that it’s a compilation of various tracks from their history, Spelling the Names isn’t interested in flow so much. There’s not a central theme or overarching message to the album. What’s here is a bunch of songs that contain both emotion and have a fucking backbone. Nothing is mellowed out of the mix; all the songs hit hard and have some great grooves. The drumming is sharp and crisp and works in perfect harmony with the other instruments. Unlike a lot of bands, Ethel Meserve really doesn’t have one thing trumping another. Even the vocals, although fairly sparse in the midst of the usually long songs fit perfectly. They are commonly performed in that place somewhere between singing and screaming but they fit the pace and tenor of the music just as it needs to be.

While The Milton Abandonment was their primary release, Spelling the Names was how I first heard them (although I must admit The Milton Abandonment has a killer double bass part on one song that fits right in there with the cello and violin and traditional rock line-up). The thing that struck me first and foremost about the band was their passion, but not in an overly emotional way. These weren’t guys crying on stage about bullshit, they were making solid indie rock with a sound that grabbed on to you and connected you to a sensation or time in your life. As the emo scene progressed out of the 80s, it seemed that many bands got slower and sappier until the present time when emo seems to be nothing about hardcore or punk and all about sappiness. Ethel Meserve took the hardcore part, mellowed it some and avoided the sappiness altogether. Even with the songs on Spelling the Names that start slow, they inevitably speed up; not to a fast punk level but to somewhere that is enjoyable and listenable for a wider audience. Listen to “Untitled” and try not to tap your foot or bang your head a bit. It feels like being on a merry-go-round with your posterior facing the outside, holding on to the bars and leaning backward with your head hanging back as you whip around. The word “wasted!” being shouted by stationary people as you breeze by them again and again in your loop and the merry-go-round just keeps going strong.

Gerb is on the right

Where do you currently live?

I have been living in Raleigh, NC since 2004. When Ethel Meserve broke up in 1997, I moved from State College, PA to Berkeley, CA for graduate school. After graduating I worked there for about 2.5 years, got laid-off in 2001, and then spent my time backpacking and exploring around the state. In 2002 I left the country for a 14-month adventure through Asia with my girlfriend (now wife). We pretty much ran out of steam (and money) in late 2003 and returned to the US and lived with her parents in Raleigh until we were able to get on our feet again. I found a job in 2004, got married and bought a house in 2005, and have lived here ever since.

What do you do to pay the bills?

I have been working as an environmental engineer mostly trying to clean up contaminated industrial properties. It’s definitely not what I expected when I was in school; I mostly spend my time writing reports, and generally staring at a computer all day. It’s about 5% interesting and 95% mind-numbing work. I definitely daydream about what life might have been like if I had figured out how to play music for a living.

Are you still involved with music in any way (work for a label, play in a band, do press for a band, book shows, etc.) or any of the other arts (performing, visual, literary)?

When I lived in Berkeley, CA I played with a band called Benton Falls. I recorded one album with them called Fighting Starlight and went on a national tour with them in 2001. I taught myself to play cello in Berkeley and played a couple times at small open-mike type places. When traveling in Asia, I bought a set of tablas in India and took lessons for 3-4 weeks in Nepal. I never performed with the tablas, but did enjoy playing them. Since living in Raleigh I have not been involved in music other than listening to it as much as possible. I have recently been picking up the guitar again and have dreams of someday writing and recording music again.

At what point did you decide to “give up” the touring and band life and why? Was there a sudden realization that you wanted to live in the “real world” or was it gradual?

I lived in the small town of State College, PA from birth until I was 24, and found that I had a strong urge to move away and try something new. Our bass player, Paul Hagin and I both got accepted to graduate schools in the Bay Area, and every one in Ethel Meserve just had different paths we wanted to take. So we split up in 1997 and I moved away. We did get back together in 1998 with a new bass player, Jeff Bundy, while I was on summer break from school. We did one last tour that summer and then I moved back to Berkeley for the next few years. While in Berkeley, I felt the urge to leave where I was and again left the band I was playing with to pursue an adventure. The world-traveling was definitely an amazing, once in a lifetime experience, but I often wonder if I should have stayed with the band(s) and where that might have taken me.

Gerb is on the right

Do you still speak with the other members of the band (Ethel Meserve)?

I am only in touch with Chris Baronner (the other guitarist) and Jeff Bundy (the last Bass Player). Chris is involved pretty heavily with the music scene in Chicago and Jeff is working with Terry Gross (Fresh Air) with NPR. I am not sure where everyone else is right now, but I would like to look them up

Are you content with not living the “rock and roll” lifestyle of your past or do you miss it? (Please note: I use the phrase “rock and roll lifestyle” loosely.)

I greatly miss the days of playing music, working odd jobs, touring, and hanging out with friends. These days I am working full time and raising two boys (a 4-year old and a 6-month old) that pretty much takes up all my time. I hope to get the kids interested in playing music and maybe even talk them in to playing with me. My brother-in-law plays drums too, so I am imagining maybe someday getting a family band together. It is an amazing experience having kids, but I do really miss the carefree days of my youth.

Do you feel as though you can still relate to the person you were when you were in a band and touring? Why or why not?

I feel like I am still the same person I was when I was a young skateboarding punk rocker, just now I am living as a double-agent in “real world” America. Some of my best memories are from touring and playing music and those days definitely shaped who I am now.


Hey, what happened? An interview with Norman Brannon of Texas is the Reason

Norman Brannon played guitar in Texas Is The Reason as well as Shelter and New End Original.

The author of Anti-Matter zine, you might also remember him as Norm Arenas. Texas is the Reason was a pivotal band for me in my early college years (late 90s). Their transition of members who were formerly in hardcore bands and were now making more heartfelt and emotional music mirrored the shift that much of my taste in music was taking. I can recall listening to them as I drove around Indiana in the summer. Their debut (and only full-length release) Do You Know Who You Are? makes for great music to blast in your car while barreling along country roads and highways as the sun sets.

Texas is the Reason broke up before I ever had a chance to see them, which bummed me out excessively. When they reformed in New York City in 2006 for two shows, I missed them because I had to go celebrate my parents’ wedding anniversary at Disney World. I know, right?

Besides their one full-length release, Texas is the Reason (whose name was taken from the Misfits song, “Bullet”) also put out an EP and splits with Samiam, Samuel and The Promise Ring. I wrote the review of their full-length for the All Music Guide and ten years later (give or take) I still think it seems like a pretty fair take on Do You Know Who You Are?

Commonly referred to as one of the standards for the emo-core movement of the 90s, Texas Is the Reason’s Do You Know Who You Are?—which was the last thing said to John Lennon before he died—is the bedrock to this New York City four-piece’s short-lived career. Produced by the very talented J. Robbins, the vocal style of singer Garrett Klahn sounds something akin to Richard Marx doing indie-rock. Whether that view is received with smiling nods or disapproving stares, the fact remains that Klahn’s unique angle of nasally sung vocals was warm enough to draw one in, while not being overbearing to the point of annoyance. With a musical background in various hardcore acts, the guitars break between melodic beauty and low-end chugga-chugga while the drums drive along with blasting consistency and precision. Stark phrases about life’s loneliness and the dissonance between friends and lovers create a lyrical atmosphere that invites tremendous one-liners and memorable songs. The title track shows Texas Is the Reason in an abyss of harmonic composure, providing a chance for the listener to catch his or her breath before plunging back into the melodic, enthusiastic rush of ”Back and to the Left”. While neither as harsh as many of their hardcore predecessors, nor as technical as their Washington DC counterparts nor as poppy as many of the emo bands to come after them, but instead taking a bit from each, Texas Is the Reason provided the indie-rock scene with a combination of all the elements that it took to produce a quality indie-rock record. For these reasons, Do You Know Who You Are? stands as one of the necessary albums for fans of emo-core.  

Texas is the Reason in the 90s, with Norman on the right

Where do you currently live?

I live in a very young neighborhood in Brooklyn, New York. Which gives me an aging complex.

What do you do to pay the bills?

I still work as a freelance music writer, which I’ve been doing on and off since 1993, but I’ve also been going to school full-time since 2008 — which gives me access to loans, grants, scholarships, and other random money. I also still make some extra money from residuals and licensing for Texas is the Reason and New End Original music, which also helps. But that said, I live on a budget.

Are you still involved with music in any way (work for a label, play in a band, do press for a band, book shows, etc.) or any of the other arts (performing, visual, literary)?

I’ll probably always be involved with music in some way, but — as dickish as this might sound to someone who has never done it — I think making music for a living was the worst possible thing for me. I was a really miserable career musician, and I’m not sure I ever want to do that again. So while I do still make music, at this point it’s something I do when I have the time and inspiration: I’ve done a bunch of different electronic and house tracks as Zodiac Social, which you can get for free from my SoundCloud page, and I still have a stack of pop songs that I don’t know what to do with. My main focus has really shifted towards academia and writing; I’m really interested in literary criticism and contemporary rhetoric. I’m hoping to publish my second book, a book of essays, at the end of this year.

Texas is the Reason in 2006. Norman on left

At what point did you decide to “give up” the touring and band life and why? Was there a sudden realization that you wanted to live in the “real world” or was it gradual?

It was gradual. I think I ended every tour I’ve ever been on by saying, “This is the last time I’ll ever tour again!” But the real last time I ever toured was in 2006, I think, when I went on tour with this band called Gratitude. It was kind of incredible to go out there and play songs I didn’t write, and just be totally detached from the whole thing and experience touring through that lens. But at the end, I really felt like if I never did that again, that would be fantastic. Whether or not I live in the “real world,” that’s hard to say. Once you’ve lived like a working musician for so long your perception about a lot of things get skewed — sometimes positively, sometimes negatively. It really becomes an inextricable part of your worldview.

Do you still speak with the other members of the band (Texas is the Reason)?

All the time. Nobody believed us when we said we broke up because our friendships were more important than our band, but we did and they are. Those guys will always be my family.

Are you content with not living the “rock and roll” lifestyle of your past or do you miss it? (Please note: I use the phrase “rock and roll lifestyle” loosely.) 

Yeah. I mean, my rock and roll lifestyle — aside from the nomadic travel — wasn’t all that different from my lifestyle now. I read a lot, I listen to a lot of music, and I hang out with my friends. That’s pretty much all I remember doing back then. But also, I’ve been lucky enough to live outside of the rigid day-job construct for pretty much my entire adult life, and I suppose my answer might be different if I needed to report to work every morning. Either way, I don’t miss the life too much — except for the actual writing and practicing part — and I definitely don’t miss the part about not being able to keep a relationship because I was never home. I’ve been with my partner for over five years now, happier than I’ve ever been, and this would simply not have been possible if I were still in a band. He also used to play in a touring indie rock band back then, so it’s pretty clear that our relationship would have been totally impossible in 1997. So basically, fuck 1997.

Do you feel as though you can still relate to the person you were when you were in a band and touring? Why or why not?

Honestly, I was really depressed when I was in bands. I spent a lot of my time drinking coffee and being depressed. Straight up. I lost friends over it. I can’t explain what it was that I was going through back then, but staying in one place for a while finally gave me a stable environment from which I could explore and examine my issues, and more importantly, fix them as best as I could. I do think I’m a better and smarter person than I was back then — still kind of fucked up, but maybe in a more endearing or lovable or people-still-root-for-me kind of way — but I know I’ve still got a lot of growing up to do, even at 37. At the very least, I’m much more of a self-aware fuck-up now. Which, if you’re being honest, is probably the most that anyone can ask of themselves.

Here is a great Texas is the Reason tune titled “Blue Boy” from their split 7″ with The Promise Ring.


Hey, what happened? An interview with Matt Traxler of Brandtson

Matt Traxler played guitar in Brandtson.

 Matt, up front and third from left

I saw Brandtson fairly often during their existence. Having some mutual friends and the relatively close distance to Cleveland from where I lived meant seeing them frequently. I was a fan of Matt’s previous hardcore band so I was happy to hear the new direction he and Myk, the vocalist, went with Brandtson. The band started with a darker, edgier sound that showcased Myk on guitar and vocals and their drummer, Jared Jolley, also singing. The two vocals complimented one another quite well and I always appreciated that they did something a little different than the traditional vocals/guitar/bass/drums lineup. Over the course of their career, the band slowly instituted more pop aspects and the last album found the band coming up with fun, danceable tunes.

Matt also has a name that can be made into various, fun monikers: Trax Mattler, Max Trattler, Tratt Maxler, Mrat Taxler, Trax Traxler, Tat Mraxler, etc.

Where do you currently live?

I’m living in Lakewood, Ohio. It’s the first city west of downtown Cleveland. It’s a nice town and aside from being close to work and friends it has quite a bit to offer. I’m happy to call it home.

Matt, left

What do you do to pay the bills?

My job title is “Interactive Designer,” which is a fancier way of saying “web designer.” I work for an interactive marketing agency and as far as going to work everyday goes, I really enjoy what I’m doing.

Are you still involved with music in any way (work for a label, play in a band, do press for a band, book shows, etc.) or any of the other arts (performing, visual, literary)?

Creatively I still keep myself pretty busy. I’ve gotten really into gardening as well as vegan cooking. I started a tumblr a bit back to document some of the food I make, mixed in with random music pieces that excite me. Otherwise I’m making music in a new band. Most everyone involved with Brandtson is involved with this. It’s called Swarm of Bats. We’re all still really close friends and missed making music together. We started this as a fun outlet for that, without the constraints or pressures of having to tour and put out records on someone else’s schedule. We’ve digitally released our first album ourselves and if anyone is interested it’s up for download as a pay what you want plan on our bandcamp page. The line up is Myk and our original bassist John, as well as our later bassist Adam on drums, and myself.

At what point did you decide to “give up” the touring and band life and why? Was there a sudden realization that you wanted to live in the “real world” or was it gradual?

It was gradual, however I think we were all on the same page after releasing and working through the touring season on Hello Control. We were all pretty well spent. We still loved doing it, but it had lost some of its sheen after spending a decade touring. We had agreed that it was the right time to let it rest and be what it was.

Do you still speak with the other members of the band?

Absolutely. They’re my best friends, as I mentioned earlier. Playing music with Myk, John and Adam has been great and I still see Jared quite often as well!

Matt, right

Are you content with not living the “rock and roll” lifestyle of your past or do you miss it? (Please note: I use the phrase “rock and roll lifestyle” loosely.)

There are certainly elements that I miss: traveling, seeing friends in different towns, and the general lack of ‘real life’ responsibilities. It was always liberating to have your own version of going to work everyday and having that job be driving somewhere with your friends and playing music. Those aspects I miss. However, I’m really happy with the decision to move on and don’t regret it. I certainly don’t miss the financial woes that come with trying to support yourself on the income of a band. As a look back I loved it and have really fond memories. I got to go places and see things that I most likely would not have been able to do otherwise. I’m really thankful for that and wouldn’t trade it for anything. It was just time to close out that chapter.

Do you feel as though you can still relate to the person you were when you were in a band and touring? Why or why not?

I feel like I’ve grown up a lot and have learned a lot about myself over the last couple years. After spending the majority of my adulthood in a van with friends and living that life, it was a major adjustment period coming home and knowing that I wasn’t leaving again in a week. It took me a few years to sort of balance everything out and transition into a different lifestyle. I feel removed from it in a way, meaning when I go to shows and see friends’ bands that we toured
or played with who are still doing it, it seems almost foreign to me.


Hey, what happened? An interview with Jason Hamacher of Frodus

Jason Hamacher played drums in Frodus as well as Battery, Combatwoundedveteran and Decahedron.

I know I already printed a version of this with my interview with Shelby Cinca, Frodus’s guitarist and singer, but I think it most accurately describes my primary memory of Jason.

When I was a freshman in college I traveled out to Pennsylvania from Indiana with a friend to see some hardcore shows including one with Frodus, Zao and a bunch of other shitty bands. After the show, some of my younger, high school friends who we met up with were screwing around and fake fighting while the bands were hauling stuff out of the student union at Grove City College, where the show was being held. I approached Jason Hamacher, the drummer for Frodus, as he was hauling out a floor tom and jokingly said to him, “Oh, you want a piece of this?” at which point he put down his drum, threw me over his shoulder, spun me around a number of times, threw me down on the ground on my back, straddled me across my stomach and proceeded to buck me like a bronco. After this series of improbable events, which I swear I am not making up, I went up to Shelby and said, “You’ve got one crazy drummer!” at which he slapped me on the shoulder and with a smile exclaimed, “Well they don’t call him Chip Hamchee for nothin’!”

Where do you currently live?

In the Mount Pleasant Neighborhood of Washington D.C.

What do you do to pay the bills?

I’ve been a massage therapist for the last nine years and also run a production company that focuses on Cultural Preservation, Lost Origin Productions. www.lostorigins.com

Are you still involved with music in any way (work for a label, play in a band, do press for a band, book shows, etc.) or any of the other arts (performing, visual, literary)?

Frodus decided to play some shows in 2009 and ended up recording a new 7” in the process. Shelby and I have decided to continue writing and recording music under the moniker Frodus Sound Laboratories. Frodus Sound Laboratories will be a series of experimental recordings with other musicians. The first Sound Lab experiment was with Liam Wilson from Dillinger Escape Plan on bass. We wrote three songs but ended up recording two which are available on 7” record and digitally. http://lovitt.bandcamp.com/album/soundlab-1

The next Sound Lab experiment will be with Justin Moyer (Super System, Antelope, E.D. Sedgwick) on bass and Mike Schliebaum (Darkest Hour) on 2nd guitar.

I’m also playing in a new hardcore band called Regents. The band is Drew Ringo (Sleepytime Trio, Maximilian Colby) on guitar, David Nesmith (Sleepytime Trio, Maximilian Colby, Mens Recovery Project, Rah Bras, Bats and Mice) on guitar, Dan Evans (The Exploder, Sick Weapons) on bass, and I’m playing drums. We have a 7” coming out in the next month on Lovitt Records.

I’ve been working in Syria for the past five years preserving the world’s oldest Christian music. Smithsonian Folkways is planning to release a CD of the chant later this year. The chant melodies date back to the late 190’s and are sung in Syriac Aramaic, the language of Jesus.

I’ve also been commissioned by the Syrian Ambassador to the United States to publish a book of my Syrian photography. I’ve tentatively titled the book, “Aleppo, Syria: Witness to an Ancient Legacy.” The book is currently in edit and I hope to have it out sometime later this year.

This whole Syria project has led me down some wild paths. I did some film work for Yale’s Institute for Sacred Music and also work for a new museum in NYC as their photographer/explorer for the Middle East.

At what point did you decide to “give up” the touring and band life and why? Was there a sudden realization that you wanted to live in the “real world” or was it gradual?

I feel that I’ve never fully submitted to the “real world”. My career choices and passions for music, photography, and culture keep me traveling, exploring, and meeting people all over the world.

To be honest, I never wanted to give up the touring life. The year 1999 was horrible for Frodus. My girlfriend was diagnosed with a very rare terminal cancer, three days later Shelby’s father had a stroke and went ½ paralyzed, Nate had gone to Scotland for the summer, to play in the band Ganger, and found out his lady was with someone else. All of this happened while we were writing “And We Washed Our Weapons in the Sea.” Life got too heavy and the band broke up Dec. 28, 1999.

Do you still speak with the other members of the band (Frodus)? 

Shelby and I stay in frequent contact but I haven’t spoken to Nate in awhile.

Are you content with not living the “rock and roll” lifestyle of your past or do you miss it? (Please note: I use the phrase “rock and roll lifestyle” loosely.)

Being in a touring band is a very insular existence. You live day to day inside of a van or bus surrounded by a select few. The whole life is based around waiting. Waiting for load-in, waiting for sound check, waiting to eat, waiting for the doors to open, waiting for the show start, waiting to get your gear onstage, waiting to finally play. Then gear comes off stage, waiting for load out, waiting to get paid, waiting to leave, waiting to sleep. Repeat. Meanwhile your trying to entertain, educate and enlighten yourselves to keep sane. Don’t get me wrong, I loved touring, but after you’ve played the same clubs across the US and Europe a couple of times, the sense of adventure gets lost and life can become monotonous.

I definitely miss the punk life every now and then. Seeing friends on stage or listening to their records can make me a little homesick but I love where I am now. I have an amazing wife and daughter, great house, travel all over the world with my photography, and still play music.

Do you feel as though you can still relate to the person you were when you were in a band and touring? Why or why not?

The Jason Hamacher of Frodus was loud, adventurous, life of the party, controlling, competitive and somewhat un-empathetic. Jason Hamacher the husband, father, business and homeowner is similar but definitely a different person. After the death of my girlfriend my perception on life changed dramatically and my ability to empathize with people was magnified exponentially. I feel that Jason Hamacher 2011 is a more emotional and responsible version of the Jason Hamacher of Frodus.


Hey, what happened? An interview with Lee Bozeman of Luxury

Lee Bozeman sang and played guitar in Luxury.

Luxury came to me at a time in high school when I was feeling an onset of melancholy and disenchantment with life while exploring, for the first time, bands like The Smiths and The Cure. I listened to a lot of music on Tooth and Nail Records, too, and Luxury seemed like another act that I should check out. Unlike some of the more aggravated, intense acts on the label, Luxury had a saucy, flirty sound that seemed to be the equivalent of the retro visuals on their first two albums. They funneled this music through the unspoken tragedy and subtle rage that is breathed through The Smiths’ most heart-rending songs. To my ears it all came out sounding beautiful.

You can listen to some of the music Lee has made here: http://leebozeman.bandcamp.com/

Where do you currently live?

I am living at St. Vladimir’s Orthodox Theological Seminary in Yonkers, New York. Our apartment is nice, sitting on the top floor overlooking a lake that is pleasant from a distance. There are quite a few dogwoods along the street.

What do you do to pay the bills?

I am second year seminarian at St. Vladimir’s working on a Masters of Divinity. I paid the bills this morning with the money my wife makes as a nurse in Greenwich, Connecticut.

Are you still involved with music in any way (work for a label, play in a band, do press for a band, book shows, etc.) or any of the other arts (performing, visual, literary)?

When Luxury quietly ended I began to write on my own. I released a record under the moniker All Things Bright and Beautiful in 2003 and the last Luxury record in 2005. Since then, I have been keeping things very simple recording and releasing on my own, sometimes under the moniker, Orient Is His Name, and sometimes under other things. I released two EPs last year as well as a single on my bandcamp site for Orient Is His Name. Other than that, I paint very infrequently and write poems from time to time. I like to clean.

At what point did you decide to “give up” the touring and band life and why? Was there a sudden realization that you wanted to live in the “real world” or was it gradual?

I never really left the “real world” even while in Luxury. I always worked full time and had a family. At some point we all moved apart, mostly for work reasons, and so the idea of touring ended and we began to write separately and play in other projects. Luxury became a recording band for the most part. And I still don’t know that I want to live in the “real world” but a life of touring and such sounds dreadful at this point.

Do you still speak with the other members of the band?

I speak regularly with everyone. My brother Jamey, our guitar player, is here at seminary with me. He was the most organized after Luxury in that he formed They Sang As They Slew and released two records on Northern Records and played quite a lot. Our base player, Fr. Christopher Foley, is an Orthodox priest and serves a parish in Greensboro, North Carolina but unfortunately doesn’t have time to play much these days. Glenn Black, our drummer, is in Asheville, North Carolina and has played off and on in a number of different bands. Some health problems have hampered him from really doing much though. But we all speak to each other and would like to see each other if time and convenience allowed.

Are you content with not living the “rock and roll” lifestyle of your past or do you miss it? (Please note: I use the phrase “rock and roll lifestyle” loosely.)

In a strange way, I still feel like I am doing what I was at that time. We never were sucked into a lot of the mess that so many bands got into. It was really for the most part, just a nice time playing with good people, good friends. If there is anything that I miss it is that camaraderie and the great volume of live shows. I’m not exactly living a traditional life-style right now being a seminarian, though I sat in a cube for a number of years and wore nice shoes.

Do you feel as though you can still relate to the person you were when you were in a band and touring? Why or why not?

I thought I could until recently when I saw a video we made in 1992. What ideas we had. So serious. I don’t regret many things we did, though some are embarrassing. I suppose life is one long attempt to relate to ourselves or how we perceive ourselves to be. I liked The Smiths then and I still like them now. That should mean something.


Hey, what happened? An interview with Mario Jimenez of Stanford Prison Experiment

Mario Jimenez sang for Stanford Prison Experiment.

I can’t quite remember when I first heard Stanford Prison Experiment (SPE), but most likely it was sometime in the mid-90s when I was in high school. The Gato Hunch, their second release, was the first album of theirs I got. I liked their post-hardcore sound, similar to a cross between Rollins Band, Fugazi and Quicksand with vocals reminiscent of John Reis from Rocket From The Crypt. The band was politically minded without being heavy-handed and knew how to create somewhat darker edged songs that were simultaneously hard and melodic. And to top it all off, SPE had the ability to write songs that got stuck in your head. They are certainly one of those bands that make you say to yourself, “HOW CAN MORE PEOPLE NOT KNOW ABOUT THESE GUYS?!”

SPE taught me up to Noam Chomsky (the last track on The Gato Hunch is a speech by him), the film Shakes the Clown (“Man…fucking people!”), and the actual Stanford Prison Experiment itself. As I may have mentioned in previous entries, when I was younger I would often hear things on albums or read something in liner notes that I didn’t know about and it would instill in me a desire to learn more, whether it be other bands, pop culture references or political ideas. It’s one of the best parts about my experiences with music (especially DIY and punk rock material) and SPE were certainly a band that inspired that sense of curiosity in me.

Like a number of indie bands from the 1990s, SPE signed with a major (Island) for their third album, Wrecreation, before ceasing to exist in the early 2000s. While I haven’t heard their first, self-titled album, I would certainly recommend either of the other two albums.

Where do you currently live?

Rincon, Puerto Rico.

What do you do to pay the bills?

I own and operate a coffee bar called Banana Dang.

Are you still involved with music in any way (work for a label, play in a band, do press for a band, book shows, etc.) or any of the other arts (performing, visual, literary)?

I listen to it everyday, but owning and operating a coffee shop at the level that we are working towards involves a lot of the same creative efforts as being in a band. It’s a team effort and you try your hardest to produce the best.

At what point did you decide to “give up” the touring and band life and why? Was there a sudden realization that you wanted to live in the “real world” or was it gradual?

It was a subtle transition from music to doing other things. We always were looking for creative things to do, so at one point I got more into graphic design and specialty coffee and that sort of took care of the creative itch. All my band mates found other projects and endeavors.

Do you still speak with the other members of the band (Stanford Prison Experiment)?

Yes, via Internet and phone at times since I’m in PR.

Are you content with not living the “rock and roll” lifestyle of your past or do you miss it? (Please note: I use the phrase “rock and roll lifestyle” loosely.)

For me, that “lifestyle” has always been about thinking for yourself and doing things with passion that are interesting. So that ethic is still a part of my life but just transferred over to a different medium. I do miss the friends that supported us along the way as well as my bandmates, but creative work with a social impact continues for us.

Do you feel as though you can still relate to the person you were when you were in a band and touring? Why or why not?

Yes, since while touring we were doing our best to write and perform the best of we could. We still believe and enjoy music as a social force. This continues in the way I try to work and deliver to the best of my ability. What I do now has that thread of working for a better world–it’s just in the context of buying fair trade, organic/sustainable coffee at every opportunity and keeping in mind the “seed to cup” connection.


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