MORE JOURNAL COMIX/ hassle addressing
last week’s was heavy, and there’s other things to say about it, but…maybe later.
In the meantime, here’s a few more pages from the 2024 comix journal; I like these pages from the opening slots I did with/ for Steel Pole Bath Tub in the PAC NW. I’m not “pretending everything is normal”, It‘s just what I got, right now.
A little backstory: Steel Pole (or SPBT) was one of my very favorite bands, in my early 20’s. In a lot of ways, they seem forgotten, which is unfortunate, because the stuff holds up remarkably well. They sort of stopped being a band/ playing out in the early 2000’s.
But see, this strange thing happened: 15 (or so?) years ago I heard through the grapevine that Dale/ TOOTH (one of my favorite bass players of all time) had moved here/ to minneapolis, so I cold emailed him and asked if he wanted to play in my Wipers cover band (Three Old Guys Play The First Five Songs Off The Wipers Over Edge Record And Maybe The Song Youth Of America If They Are Not Too Tired, or TOGPTFFSOTWOTERATSYOAITANTT for short). He did, and somehow he ended up becoming one of my dearest pals and collaborators (he played in the Hand, and countless other weird art things).
So these journal entries are about my opening for them on some reunion shows— which, you know…old cult band starts playing together again, that’s nice but seems like something to get excited about in less trying/ stressful times, yeah? Maybe, but no. Not for me. Because these folks started playing together again not because of money or huge offers or any of that, but because they were old pals who wanted to play/ be creative/ hang out again.
And it was totally beautiful. Lots/ most “reunion” acts are a lifeless rehash/ nostalgia cash-in, which I have zero interest/ time for: this was the opposite of that*. They were as good as ”back in the day” (if not better), and the shows truly felt like a celebration of … friendship/ “I can’t believe we get to do this together and it’s fucking great” rather than a “rock show”. And a gathering of the weirdos. Again, musical, but not about music, really. Something else, something better. More of that please, in whatever form it takes, and less of…what we have now, every day.
Please.
Anyway, I was so thankful to be asked along; it was a blast, and Dorothy (also one of my favorite drummers ever) hopping into my set with almost zero prep/ on the fly was unbelievable.
(Also thanks to Cloud Nothings, Sara Lund for lifesaving Sara Lund-ness (and John too!), Shawn W, Mister Kranky, and Braden)
Take care, everyone.
—Z
*not unlike the Unwound reunion shows.
It has also come to my attention that some friends attempting to “subscribe” to this newsletter have been inundated with hassle: the confirmation email needed to complete it goes into SPAM, and then all these warnings of “this may be a fraudulent site” warnings, etc (which, in all honesty, usually leads me to NOT click through, or whatever….). I wish I were surprised that my attempt to escape social media is fraught with nonsense, but…I’m not. Someone said “whitelist“ me/ this site or whatever a person does. Trying to figure it out, but...fuck if I know. For some it’s been easy and simple. Just a heads-up, I guess.