The Miscreant - Issue 8

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HOW TO BE A MISCREANT #7:

12 IMAGINARY ATTEMPTS AT ARTS JOURNALISM (6 ARE REAL) by mister matt gasda 1. The novels of Ayn Rand stand at the foremost of our century, ahead of such luminaries as Joyce, Proust, Beckett, and Kafka. If I had to choose between The Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged I would choose The Fountainhead if only because I always wanted to be an architect. But any difference in aesthetic quality or philosophical force between the two novels is marginal. Today, we can safely say that we are all objectivists… 2. For years I have been an unabashed and unironic defender of the music of Coldplay, if only because they remain for me the best barrier against outright snobbishness. 3. One cannot conceive of a movie more instantly destined to be simultaneously over-and-under-rated than the film Biutiful by Alejandro González Iñárritu… 4. If I had to choose between Shakespeare and Dante I would hesitate before choosing Dante, if only because I prefer Italian girls… 5. This is piece will not merely be a testament to the music of Pearl Jam, but also to how much I love avocados… 6. I have always preferred lead singers with nice tits, and for more reasons than the fact that I like tits… 7. Fellini’s 8½ is… 8. There is a Professor of Bureaucracy and Paperwork at NYU lastname Kafka… (Ok this is one of the real ones look it up) 9. “It goes without saying that my refusal to listen to pop music after it’s total apotheosis in the music of Beach House has been a source of tension between my bandmate and I” he said. 10. I have always preferred drummers with nice, tight asses. The only reason being that I like nice tight asses… 11. If I could avoid having a beer with one writer living or dead it would be Franz Kafka, if only because I hate to wait for my drinks… 12. Why no one realizes that pop music will never be better than the smelliest of J.S. Bach’s farts never ceases to amaze me… 2


Be on the look out for details on the Miscreant Launch Party. There will be magazines, music and good times galore. Mark your calendars for September 23!

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A TIME OF INEVITABLE CHANGES by liz kenny

I sit here typing in a white, Hello Kitty, bathrobe awaiting to take a shower for my big night ahead; I’m going to see Bon Iver at the House of Blues in Boston tonight with an old friend. I wanted so badly to write about so many other things; however, my ventures of searching for old favorite movies of mine the other night took this story on a completely different path. That’s what happens though; you cannot truly plan what is to come ahead, but simply hop on the ride and go with it freely. In the wise words of Hunter S. Thompson, you just need to “Buy the ticket, take the ride.” A few nights ago I was in the search of my two favorite movies from middle school- Almost Famous and Garden State. I used to force my friends to watch these movies on Friday nights at my house while eating junk food when going to the movies wasn’t an option and there were no town youth dances to attend. It sounds silly, but I would secretly dream of becoming Kate Hudson’s Penny Lane, not a hippy, but a girl who was all about the music and found the ones who treasured it just as much as she. To this day I still believe both films have amazing soundtracks and that’s how I seem to connect them, you can choose to agree with me or not; I could care less. Upon looking for these DVD’s on a dull night at home I came across stacks upon stacks of old mixed CD’s from middle school that were hidden in the back of my television cabinet, in my room at home. As I read through the titles and playlists written upon them in Sharpie markers and pens, memories of sing a longs and sleepovers with my best girls raced through my head. I’ve only had an actual Valentine once in my life; yet, I have numerous “Valentine’s Day” titled mixed CDs from all of my closest friends who filled my heart in ways that no middle school boyfriend ever even had the chance of doing. After digging through these CD’s, I began laughing at the fact that songs such as “Jane Fonda” by Mickey Avalon and “Hurricane” by Bob Dylan somehow made it onto the same one: “Liz’s Birthday Mixx.” After feeling a mixture of wanting to cry, because I get way too nostalgic way too easily, and wanting to laugh over the fact that I knew I had played a burned CD of Fall Out Boy’s From Under the Cork Tree too many times in my Walkman to actually want to admit, I decided Garden State would be a perfect film to end my quiet night at home. I never actually found either DVD; therefore, I used my Google search to find the movie in full as I sat upon by bed with my dog, Kasey, right by my side. I began the movie and saw it in a completely different light than the 8th grade me ever truly grasped but always anticipated fully understanding in my future. That night I was no longer thinking the “Omg! Zach Braff is SO cute and sweet!”, 4


“I LOVE the Shins, but I knew this song way before anyone else in my grade!” or “Zach Braff is SUCH a great director, and this is only his directorial film debut guys!” that the middle school me would have naively commented as if this were the most brilliant movie ever written and I was the only one who knew the Shins existed. Instead, on this night, I saw the movie for the theme of transition into adulthood in the way in which it was intended. Its just funny how you go to college your Freshman year and get so excited about coming home in order to excitedly share with your family and friends all the great new experiences you’ve had, the interesting information your professors have taught you, and all of the big ideas and dreams you have for your future. I never felt more mature in my life than I did my freshman year of college at Syracuse University. However, as sophomore year came along the whole atmosphere of the college I had become familiar with in those previous two semesters had changed immensely and I came to terms with the fact that I was being naïve and cheating myself by believing I knew it all. That was when I realized that change is truly inevitable in one’s life- every year of college is a whole new chapter, along with every summer that follows. I also realized how young we all still truly are. I can honestly tell you I had my whole future mapped out for me in my first year as an undergrad; yet, now I’ve learned to accept that life throws you curve balls and even the smallest of events can change the wind in the air- navigating your sailboat in a direction you may have never seen coming. As silly as it sounds, watching Garden State that one night touched my heart in a different way than I had ever intended. I watched the film knowing that I was at the age where you can’t help but hit some forks in the woods, that point where life tends to take a metaphysical standstill until you make responsible decisions. I also realized each path you choose is typically not life or death when one’s in their twenties. We’re supposed to experiment at this stage, and no- this is not referring to drugs. All I’m saying is we’re at that middle point between childhood and adulthood and as much as it seems to suck sometimes, it is also a period you’ll look back on and hopefully smile upon. Appreciate our somewhat pre-Garden State stage (aka the college years) for what they are. Take every opportunity you see contributing to the person you want to become while also making sure you still save time for quality “Thirsty Thursdays,” or whatever other adventure, you have with your friends in order to maintain sanity after a long week of classes and/or a chaotic internship. Not only is this a time to live and learn, but it is also a time of balancing work and play amongst the constant changes that may either hit you like a brick or wash over you like a gentle wave. 5


this issue is brought to you by kyle’s beard.

Single of the

Week

Sir Jove has been beating through speakers of miscreants and misfits since he released is EP, The Overture. Check out the opening track, “Who Is Your Maker” for the Single of the Week! 6


I JUST WANNA BE PRETTY confessions by kyle kuchta

When I was younger, I had a few self-image problems. I know that this is a common thing, but I did. Not many, but a few. It was mainly body issues. I wasn’t (and still not) an athletic person, or a strong one, or a good-looking one, or an evenly tanned one, etc. In middle school and into high school, I would wear X-Large black band shirts (I’m a Medium/Large at the current age of 19-almost-20), jeans year round, and sneakers always. At one point in my high school career, I finally let go some and dressed a little more reasonably. Still a pretty consistent wardrobe of band shirts, but I threw cargo shorts into the works, and different colored shirts. I like to contribute this change to getting my first girlfriend, and first real boost of confidence from that and other factors. Going to college definitely kept this confidence going. My girlfriend (now fiancé) made me love my actual body way more than I used to, and the way I dressed didn’t really matter to me anymore. I didn’t give a fuck, to be honest. I seemed to make friends just fine, and I realized that I just lacked any sort of confidence, in any aspect, in my younger years. I didn’t have friends because I didn’t like myself. All I had to do was enjoy who I was and what I wore and what I looked like. I had a bit of a relapse the other day, though. I had a feeling it was coming. Ever since I started interning in New York City (SoHo, of course) I’ve been slowly realizing that my constant summer wardrobe of cargo shorts and a t-shirt is not everything I wanted it to be. A friend of mine, who goes by the name I LOW, wrote a song called “I Just Wanna Be Pretty.” He told me that he wrote it a few months after moving to New York City because he had a hard time adjusting to the style of all the people he saw and met. Me, on my fucking high horse of self-esteem, thought it was kind of odd that an interesting and pretty goodlooking man like himself would be so concerned with the looks of others. And then about a month or so after I heard his story and his song, it hit me. I felt disgusting. I felt as though every man who wasn’t homeless was dressed to the fucking nines. And I was still wearing t-shirts slightly too big for me, but just showing off my farmers tan on my scrawny arm. My hair was long and annoying. Sometimes I would forget to shave my mustache, and my top lip would look like a caterpillar. This was all stuff I thought about and I hated myself as I walked down Lafayette Street. It took me a bit to realize I was being irrational. It took me even longer to realize how shallow New York City made me. I don’t have the money to spend on looking “nice,” and I don’t have the desire to impress that many people with my appearance. New York City is a prissy bitch of a city. I love it dearly, but it gets to you. It got to me, and I never thought I would dislike myself as much as I did then.

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meet jove a feature by andrew mcclain

Sir Jove has just released a new EP, “The Overture.” Rather than try to dissect the EP itself, we here at The Miscreant decided to ask Jove himself a few questions. “The Overture” is twelve minutes of music that is very difficult to pigeonhole, because it’s all over the place. Clearly, you strive to make something unique, but without labeling your music, what do you see it as? My music is who I am. That’s the most honest label I can put on it. And I see it like I see myself, a universe full of some pretty eccentric paradoxes that I’m not afraid to play with. I really didn’t set out to find my sound, I just was a sonic nomad and let every musical village I encountered effect me and painted stories of these people within my chords, within what I hear in my sound, everything. On top of that I’m kind of sonically psychologically challenged. I’m pretty sure there’s a mental disability for the way I hear sounds that just hasn’t been discovered yet. If they do, I hope they don’t medicate the kids. It’s actually livable, however I am so deeply effected by sounds. In our houses we have technological devices that hum and radiate and it really disturbs me but I’ve learned to live with it. So in my music there’s that twisted element that is just a reflection of how I experience the world. When you sit down to write a song, are you contributing to a conversation? Is your music reactionary? I live in my own world really, so I just think about the story. I live in the worlds of all the stories of the songs and listen to the characters, paint the colors in pads, walls. It’s not too thought out, just where I feel like playing. “The Other” is the grand story that is my life right now. That is my world. All I do is travel and hang with neon tribes all over this country. It’s been amazing. So you prefer to make music that exists in an insular world? How do you hope it connects to people? I wouldn’t say it’s insular. Its way more universal than people perceive initially. It grows on you. I’ve seen it happened to neons who were skinheads in Colorado. I’ve seen girls who only listen to Mariah Carey get into my music. These organic experience are something I refuse to let myself negate when people tell me its out there. I think really, its in here (my he(art))and its creepy for people during these times. Where does it go next? Is there a sequel? Are you done with this story? The EP is a prolouge, to the album “The Other”. Its a 22-song Opus that I’ve worked on for years I’d say. “The Overture” is a trailer for it. The story has just begun! You are aware of the neon escape now, you’ll get to journey with the neon to talk about their experience in Nowhere, North America after it. What do you hope to communicate through your music? Is it about telling a story, or is it about allowing the listener to make up their own story? I’m just some dude making art. Its like all art it speaks to you how it speaks to you. I don’t know how that is gonna be. It’s this though that i know it’s universal. It’s this why a skin head and a Mariah Carey fan can fuck with what I’m making on the same level of understanding.

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Who do you hope hears your music? More Neons and Richard Russell. Tell me about the PDF that comes with the EP, why you wanted to do it, etc. Music used to be an event. This 90’s generation was the last generation to really experience that. I never left that place. So you’re really just entering the world I go in when I write records. So the PDF is what I experienced myself making the record. Those type of things just organically come out of the creating process. As I was working on the songs, that PDF was being conceptualized and crafted on legal pads and sketch books. Its a whole experience not just songs. Does the science-fiction element of your lyricism have specific political or social message? It seems like it could simply be about identity, but there’s also room for a bit of ominous futurist reading. You know what’s funny, I didn’t even realize it could be interpretated as being political or social until months after “The Overture” was recorded and about to be released. Seriously, I’m not a politically apathetic person either, I just live in my own world where I’m creating all the time. I was simply just telling a story around my evolution as a human being. The anarchist symbol on the cover represent my over throwing every limit that governed my truest expression, my wildest ideas & dreams. I don’t fuck with anarchy but I’m not afraid to wear incite anarchy on my mind, on my fears on my ideas and outlook on the world. It was the best way in context of the story to represent that for me. I’m pretty outside social or political realities even attempt to make messages about them. I’d sound ignorant. Tell me about your live show. What do you strive to give the audience? How is this a key part of what you do as an artist? My live shows are the reason why I wake up in the morning and go throughout my day. My live shows are my survival on this planet. It’s where I am the most alive and I’d say the most accepted too. I try and give people that same playfulness off stage but people seem to really get me when I’m on the stage. It’s where I feel the most at home. You really have to go to a show to really get me. The universe you can create on stage is something that is my art right now. “The Other” is my traveling circus living in my head driving me crazy right now. If so, what do you wish to bring to this dialog? I guess my only message is my name is Sir Jove, I come in peace. Who is Sir Jove? ‘The Other’...apparently. “The Overture,” which is a sort of boundless punkrock mini-opera, which is like a spiritual and musical nephew to Janelle Monae, and it’s available for free from sirjove.com

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ART & BUSINESS by chase coy

Most people make art because they love art. There are exceptions to that rule, but generally I believe it holds true that people in creative fields begin pursuing them because they enjoy their art and are passionate about it. And loving art is great; there’s absolutely nothing wrong with wanting to make your art and enjoy it as a solitary comfort and a private creative outlet. But as soon as you begin selling your music, it becomes a business. That doesn’t mean that it’s any less artful, it just means that either consciously or subconsciously, you’ve decided that your art has value and that you believe other people hold the same belief and will exchange their hard-earned money for your art, because to them it has value. Of course, there is always the fear that having your art become a business will overshadow your creativity or put your focus in the wrong place and make it impossible to produce “true” and “meaningful” music. There is also a stigma among fans of music that when an artist begins making money or makes decisions that seem to be driven by a business instinct, that the artist has “sold out.” This feeling is something that currently pervades the music industry and can cause a lot of friction between artists and fans, as well as between groups of fans who have different opinions about the artist’s decisions. Consider this for a moment: most artists believe their music is meaningful, and most artists who attain any level of success in the industry have some level of business sense. Not many people have given everything they’ve created away for free, and certainly no one has made a living doing so. Even famous artists like The Beatles or James Taylor sold their music and were business savvy, and their creative works are considered to be inspired and still widely respected years later, so why should anyone else be different? The bottom line is that an artist who doesn’t have good business sense won’t be able to reach his/her intended audience, or likely any audience at all. Creating music is only half the equation, and after a masterpiece is crafted, it must somehow be delivered to the people who will fund the making of that album or song, and who will find some sort of value in it. This value can be very different for different people and different artists. The club party anthem that serves as the background for an alcohol-fueled kegger and the solemn folk song that brings people to tears and makes them think about things in new ways both have value, according to their intended purposes. Because of this, I feel we as music fans and/or artists should be very cautious to use the phrase “selling out.” It is a phrase that doesn’t encourage artists to pursue their vision, but instead makes them afraid to pursue the art they want for fear of having that label thrust upon them. It causes divison among fans and artists alike, and sometimes even causes people to overlook music that could have value to them just because of the stigma attached to the phrase. At the end of the day, an artist may make decisions that you don’t agree with, and some may even be driven by business-related thinking, but who are we to assume the intentions of any artist? Furthermore, even if decisions are made for business reasons, that simply means the intent of the music and the goal of it’s creation have shifted. We rarely say someone has “sold out” if we believe their intentions have always been purely based on profits and fame, whereas when an artist whose music we find to be meaningful begins to have the same success, we are often quick to label them as “sellouts.” Therefore, we are often more critical on those seeking to make higher forms of art who happen to find success accidentally than we are on those who intentionally seek it. Making art is a constant battle between the calling to create something of value to share with humanity, and then having to put an actual value on it. The reality for most is and always will be that art must be funded, so business and art will never be completely separate. The most helpful thing we can do as fans of music who wish to see meaningful and impactful art made is to adjust our attitudes toward the business side of the industry to create an environment where artists are unafraid to take risks and make decisions that may be unpopular for the sake of their art. Until we can do that, we will always be holding the music industry back with critical, holier-than-thou attitudes.

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H0W 2 B A B0$$ L@DY #3: Quantum Leap

by the queen of ego candy, victoria pilar nava Summer came and went, and because most of us are scurrying to take care of last minute appointments, packing our lives up into suitcases, or already back at school, I’m not going to whine about why summer should never end. Because I say it never should have started. I was so busy daydreaming about my upcoming semester in Los Angeles that I completely forgot to get a job, take a class, or visit with friends. But I will say that I totally deserved to live life to the chillest. After a year of gender-neutral housing gone wrong in America’s snow belt, I was beyond ready to get the hell out of Syracuse; but I wasn’t exactly leaping through hoops to get back to Texas. From the minute I was confirmed for the LA semester, all I could do was dream day in and day out. Dream of being a young boss lady in a city built on dreams, and of the hot boys and cool girls I’ll meet and all the great music that will surround me. I dreamt so much that I forgot about how good home really is. The majority of my summer was spent alone, while my friends were in cooler cities hanging out with their somewhat cooler friends. My days were spent driving around town, running mundane errands for my parents. The key is to never forget to listen to superb jams and make sure to always wear a cute outfit, even if it is over 100 degrees and not you’re going to see anyone that cool. The few weeks that my friends were in town were spent doing nothing but eating raspas (Tex Mex sno-cones, duh) and trying to rediscover the love for the town that we grew up in. We never found it, but we did discover the goth scene. While putting up a Kottonmouth Kings poster at a sketchy smoke shop, I found a flyer for a witch house show, ladies free! My best friend and I decided that we absolutely had to check it out, especially since our days together were limited. The party/show was at the cutest house I had ever been to, one room dedicated to synths and darkwave, another room dedicated to industrial electrotrash and MAC makeup artists turned DJ’s by night. I checked out the scene, saw no one I recognized (for once), but was having such a good time regardless. Good vibes were abundant and as soon as New Order’s “Blue Monday” came on, the dancefloor filled up. It was the best party I had ever been to since the days of sneaking out my window in high school. Now my suitcase and dreams are half way packed and my flight for Los Angeles takes off Monday afternoon, but not before I get in one last industrial rave party before I go. Maybe diving into a goth party isn’t as extreme as diving into LA, but I’m certain my world will be rocked by more than the possibility of an earthquake. I’m pretty sure rocking a room full of goths is good practice for climbing the social ladder to success.

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REVIEW: RAISING CAIN (1992) by hunter lurie

After a handful of homages to Michelangelo Antonioni and Alfred Hitchcock with Blow Out (1981) and Body Double (1984), in 1992, director Brian De Palma fashioned Raising Cain. It’s a work of his that is seemingly forgotten and disregarded in the annals of cinema’s better psychological thrillers. Brian De Palma’s schizoid maze of a film houses perhaps one of the most complex representations of a personality clash within the borders of a ninety-minute running time. Mind you, this ongoing conflict is all within the head of the protagonist, Carter (John Lithgow, looking youthful as ever). It is established early in the film that Carter is a child psychologist with enough personalities to warrant him a “lunatic” label. His wife, Jenny (Lolita Davidovich), and young daughter are oblivious to his madness. When Jenny begins to notice Carter’s odd behavior—in particular his peaking interest in their daughter’s upbringing—her paranoia kicks in. Is Carter making some kind of an attempt to revamp his father’s psychological experiments from the past? Can she trust Carter as a father figure? Jenny’s credibility as a mother figure, from Carter’s perspective, is simultaneously destroyed once she reignites a romance with an old boyfriend (Steven Bauer). When Carter’s multiple personalities witness the horrors of an unfaithful wife, the template of mental stability surrounding both characters is turned into ground zero. To call Carter’s psychological breakdown throughout the film “apocalyptic” would be an understatement. Though this film is almost two decades old, I’m deciding not to give away any other plot details. Raising Cain certainly did no wonders at the box office upon its release, and I can’t recall ever hearing someone I know talk about it. Needless to say, what makes the film entirely watchable is the enriching nature of its unraveling mystery. Deciphering the semi-non-linear timeline, the clashes between Carter’s multiple personalities, Brian De Palma’s trademark athletic camerawork, the sporadic bits of dark humor, and the recurring homages to Hitchcock’s Psycho within an over-sexualized 1990s timeframe all elevate Raising Cain to a level of the psychological thriller genre with which I had previously been unfamiliar. The film’s screenplay, written by De Palma himself, traverses through an exaggerated use of suspense and an almost-comedic personification of insanity and instability by Lithgow’s character. These elements, however, are extremely welcome within the confines of the film’s outrageously improbable plot. Raising Cain teeters on the edge of a Hitchcock parody, as the husband and wife at the center of the story are never fully aware of each other’s actions until the final act. I’d like to think that Raising Cain is one of the better entries in Brian De Palma’s filmography. But it sits on a different shelf of quality than does The Untouchables or Carlito’s Way. As a self-aware exposition of manic behavior, it’s a film that still holds up, almost twenty years later.

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RETRO IS THE NEW NEW thoughts by wesley wren

Every generation of young folks in America (since, but not limited to, post WWII) has had something new. Something undeniably theirs. Music was a reflection, but also an integral aspect of defining that generation. With the advent of electric blues, and Rockabilly, then the transformation into Pop, and Rock and Roll, we had the tumultuous but “Golden era” of the 1950s. When teenagers sought rebellion, not just in film, or music, but in life. The average juvenile delinquent could be seen lifting the new Gene Vincent or Eddie Cochran single from the record shop, and the average nerd really wore a pocket protector. The Golden age was beginning to tinge when the things that the young people fought for, were becoming accepted as norms. Accepted rebellion. Marketed rebellion. Then something new happened--something fresh. Beat poetry, and the fame of Ginsberg and Kerouac, came along. The fight for peace, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness for everyone was building. Musicians were tired of being censored. Authors were tired of being censored. Women were tired of being utensils. African Americans just wanted to be treated like people. Everyone was angry. No, strike that, everyone was pissed off. The music was no different. Starting in the early 1960s, with the sped up, and angst filled garage bands of the Pacific Northwest (The Sonics, the Kingsmen, and the Wailers). These musicians were all looking to be faster, louder, and more raw. Eventually this anger, became stemmed by drug use. The anger of the early sixties. The newness of rebellion became the newness of a drug comatose that eventually began the late 60’s hippie movement. The drug use was the escape of the Vietnam war era American youth. Fearful that they may be shipped off to kill. Long story short, the drugs of the 60’s spilled over into the 1970s, only it went farther than that. Glam and prog rock, as well as disco, was the music of the day. Although, yes, there was an underground no-wave and art punk movement, glam and progressive rock was what moved the nation along. Bright colours and a unity of genders of glam rock, was the reflection of the new freedoms that were fought for in the turbulent 1960s. The flamboyance of everyone in these scenes was a display of gratitude towards the social rights and social movements. There are countless bands that I could name, but everyone knows where I’m going with that. A decade of drugs later, the 1980s came along and brought along with these years were computers. With computers, also came synthesizers, and music became even more “perfect” and less emotional. Which, is reflective of the yuppie, self-absorbed, 1980s. The underground was full of angry young folks that loved punk and hated consumerism, or loved art. So, in my opinion, this is where alternative music really became its own genre. There has always been an underground, but it generally was a derivate or a shift of the mainstream music, but now there were their own genres. Duran Duran, and Flock of Seagulls showcased the lite-rock, and synth pop mainstream, while bands like Minor Threat, Black Flag, Dinosaur (jr), and Sonic Youth were rising close to the mainstream. Also, there was a revival of DIY garage, only heavier and faster coming from the Pacific Northwest. Bands that grew up on the Sonics, like Mudhoney, or bands that wanted to be raw, like Nirvana. The 1980s are the reason why modern music exists the way it does today. The 90s were a step away from the 1980s, albeit a slight baby step early on, and then became more worldly later. Music exploded. Rock and roll had made a return to the top of the pops, destroying the legacy of pop music. It was a neo-hippie age. The idea of regurgitating past generation’s ideals began here. And for the next twenty years, young folks began to do this in their own way. I don’t need to talk about the 90s, because frankly I could say the same thing about now, kind of. As in the 1980s, hardcore music was DIY and a growing scene. It was about being fast, hard, and angry. Well, that sounds similar to Garage rock of the 1960s. Two good things, that taste great together, is modern garage rock/garage punk. Bands like Ty Segall (Epsilons, and Traditional fools), Jay Reatard (now deceased), Best Coast, The White Wires, the White Stripes, Thee Oh Sees, Devila 666, Hunx and his punx, are all clinging to a time where innocence was real, and punk rock was raw. Even though Best Coast is a surf-pop outfit, there are strong punk rock qualities to their music, and it is all something new to all of us. It is new, because it is old. The past few generations, despite being the most technologically advanced generations, have been reverting to a time where innocence was bliss, and rock and roll was an escape. Will this current revival outlive the revival of the 90’s, with bands like the oblivians and Man or Astroman?? Probably not. Is it fun while it lasts? Yeah. Will there be another one. Definitely. We just don’t know what it will revive yet. Hopefully not Duran Duran.


art by mirrah stoller 14


REVIEW: THE GOLDEN AGE OF APOCALYPSE BY THUNDERCAT by nick catellier If somebody asked you to combine Bon Iver and Yeasayer you wouldn’t even be able to start to think of what that would be. The album I reviewed this week is exactly that. The band is called Thundercat and the album is called The Golden Age of Apocalypse. First off I want to start by saying that this band is extremely unique. They have that familiar-sounding dreamy vocals made popular by the likes of M83 and Bon Iver but somehow they do it differently. They made it there own, in their own quirky and beautiful way. The music is expertly layered and engineered. Each song has its own distinct sound but doesn’t stray from the overall feel of the album. The music takes surprise turns that keep you on your feet for all 13 songs. Thundercat uses sounds that you never thought would go together like the blips and bloops of normal trancey pop mixing with classical guitars. It’s the first time in years that I have heard something entirely new. The album opens with a soundbite of the original Thundercats cartoon mixed with some awesome beats. That alone got me hooked but as Lion-O’s cries fade the next song started with the funkiest music I ever have heard! What Thundercat has been able to do is create something fresh and exciting. They have dreamy, multi-layered vocals over glitchy, bleepy dance music. And it works oh so well. They don’t take themselves to seriously but you can tell that they take what they do seriously, above everything else you can tell that they had a great time making this record. And I had a great time listening to it. 7.8/10 15


WANT MORE MISCREANT? Thank you all so much for reading the 8TH issue of “The Miscreant.” We’re having a wonderful time, and have big things on the horizon. There will be a lot of news coming your away about on-going developments with the magazine and what we’re planning. Get ready to mark your calendars! Next issue will be the first of hopefully many print issue of “The Miscreant.” So, send your Varisty Blues fan fiction, your love poems, and your nature photography, etc to: themiscreantt@gmail.com. Love, the miscreant


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