ON FLOUNDERING by mister matt gasda A few weekends ago, my team (of friends) got its ass kicked (by other friends) in a game of Thanksgiving football. The worst part of it wasthe stellar team I drafted was completely helpless on the muddy field, without cleats- which the other team insisted would be unfair because a couple of people on both sides didn’t have any. [fn: I know, I know, this is a music and general culture ‘zine, and I’m talking about football- but there is a point that I’m going to get to about all that music and culture stuff in second.] I came away from the game- a 9-2 beating- feeling strangely, soul-deeply disappointed. And why? Why on earth would a lousy game of football under bad conditions that made no impact on anything other than the $10 I lost betting really get that soul deep? Or how? How could a lousy game of football affect me so terribly? I think the answer has something to do with the actual conditions under which we played- a muddy field, no cleats. We floundered. My ringer from elementary school days loafed around. I couldn’t plant my feet to throw and my receivers couldn’t change directions to catch a ball or jump. We floundered. We were stuck. We were in the mud. We were physically impotent. And the other team enjoyed it, beat us down. Played harder. Laughed harder. Had more fun. And afterwards, like I said, the suffering was really existential, really deep, really unshakeable. Not maybe, like someone died, but like I had failed something important- a test, I dunno- but something. Like my status as a person, as a human body was in question. [There is nothing worse than losing to old high school rivals. No matter what you do in life, the social framework of your high school will remain forever ingrained in you] And here’s the thing- I’m a writer, a musician maybe, an vaguely aesthetish person who does not need to be jock to win laurels in this world- so it can’t just be about football, it can’t even be precisely about losing, because I’ve lost before and not felt so defeated- it was the nature of the loss, the mud we floundered in. I keep coming back to it- that sense of floundering. You see the metaphor I’m developing right? That being unable to control your movements, being unable to run
or jump or cut without slipping, falling, being laughed at- there is almost nothing worse. You can see why the Greeks cared so much about war- and why we care so much about it too. We need some way to measure ourselves, to show mastery over the physical, material world. We don’t really have much control in life- over death, aging, finances, love- and so when we have a controlled environment, like a football game, with a definite metric for victory- we take it extremely seriously. Why? Just because we can take it seriously. Because everyone else in the game will take it seriously- and because no one else is watching to tell us we’re stupid. So I embarrassed myself in front of some old high school friend/rivals. So what? I really don’t have a good answer. Nothing has changed. But everything has changed. Something of my sense of myself has been altered, at least temporarily. So maybe this is a lesson, well, not just about football, or manliness, or the Greeks, as it might seem- but a lesson about human suffering. [Grandiose, forgive me] That is, we suffer most when we feel most out of control. When the environment we thought was stable (football field) becomes unstable (mud). When we feel that no matter what we try to do, nothing will really turn out any differently. That no matter what we do, the other team will win. So because, as promised in a footnote, this ‘zine is ostensibly about art- there is some connection here to art. And this is it- that if floundering is part of the human condition, art, maybe, should be about alleviating that sense of cosmic impotence. That while we can’t control anything, art should help us revel in that lack of control, control ourselves in the midst of the everything else being out of control. Maybe art should help us make fun of ourselves for being so primitive, so Greek, for wrapping ourselves up in vain little games like touch football. Taking ourselves too seriously. Maybe art should be tragicand paint that little touch football game as the world changing event it might have felt like. I’m not sure exactly- but somehow, maybe a little bit through all the ways I just sketched out- art has to help us while we flounder. Not necessarily to stop floundering, if floundering is life- but to help us be a little wiser, a little above, somehow, our own condition. 3
this issue is brought to you by burritos.
Single of the
“Paper Knees” is this issue’s Single of the Week. When I was on the train home for Thanksgiving, I listened to this song on repeat for about three hours before I could bring myself to move to track 2. It’s beautiful. 4
and we don’t care about the old folks tori cote
I have a problem. A kind of minor problem, yet still a problem. You see, I think my parents were cooler than me in college. This doesn’t mean that I’m not cool, I have been told that I have what some people may refer to as ‘swagger’. But my parents though, man, they were cool. Between my mom and my dad, it’s hard to tell who was cooler. There was my dad, who ran the college radio station and was a guitarist in a band. He used to ride a motorcycle and have cool hair, kind of like a James Dean of the 80’s. He was even cooler because he got in a motorcycle accident, therefore causing him to be bedridden for a year with a metal rod in his leg forever. My dad had, and has, the whole mysterious-heartfelt-musician-thing going on. My mom, on the other hand, was a queen and a half. She was, and still is, a charismatic blonde woman with an opinion all her own. She was a cheerleader in high school who got along with everyone, and only became more passionate and loving when she got to college. Actually, I realized she was cool when she told me that she shaved half her head and dyed the other half red in college. After that, she ran a local nightclub in Cambridge and used to book a lot of cool bands, among those my Dad’s. The stories that they have from those times are awesome, and realistically they did too many crazy activities for me to repeat without them wanting them to hurt me. When my brother and I came along, things sort of died down. My dad quit his band and got a real job somewhere along the way, and my mother just wears black to substitute for her old punk goth ensemble. Still though, they played the best music. I grew up listening to everything, from Tom Waits to Echo and the Bunnymen to Pixies. Really, I don’t think I would have a passion for music if it wasn’t for my parents. They set me up to really appreciate music and concerts for what they are. Hell, I even went to my first concert (Billy Bragg, great folk artist) when I was only 3. I know not everyone thinks that their parents are cool. My stepdad listens to 70’s love songs, not something I’m really a big fan of. Even at that, he taught me a lot about 70’s love songs and even taught me some cool stuff about Motown. I mean, I understand if you don’t want to hear your Aunt talk about her love for Bon Jovi, but maybe you’ll learn something, and it never hurts to learn something. I swear, I’m telling you all of this with a purpose that isn’t just about me being super cool or being exposed to super cool things. The point is that people of our generation need to learn to open our eyes to what our elders can teach us. It may not be your mom or dad, but I can guarantee you that someone you know that is older than you has something to teach you. It might be about music, cooking, or maybe even gardening, but I swear you’ll learn something that you didn’t know before. So if you’re a real miscreant, listen up to what your grandpa has to say. He might have been a bit more a miscreant than you are now. Who knows, maybe you’ll even learn a trick or two, or even as Pixies say, “Where Is My Mind?” applies to all generations young and old. We are all in this together. 5
the careful ones an interview by the miscreant
Benji Bussell, Don Franklin and Josh Robinson are the Careful Ones. Their EP, Moths, Flames, Etc., was featured in iTunes’ New + Noteworthy, and has been making waves ever since with its lush acoustic and orchestral sound. Here, Benji talks about what’s next for the Florida-based trio. TM: When did you two start making music together? BB: We started collaborating when we were around middle school age in a band, which went by the name diversity, and it was fun but dumb. We really started playing this summer. Both me and Josh were coming from dark places, traumatic experience, loss. We spent a lot of time hanging out weekends and sharing riffs and words that came from those places. TM: How did you guys go about writing the EP? BB: It was us not being ashamed to be vulnerable with one another and thinking it selfish to reap the comforting benefit of painful inspiration for ourselves. TM: What influences did you draw from for this project in particular? BB: With Josh’s tone and our use of falsetto there are obvious comparisons from whom we don’t take much influence but are thankful their presence in culture. I’d say Damien Rice influenced my writing of “Silhouettes” a lot, and for me Sigur Ros sits up there as a higher truth in music so anything we would do musically might influenced by them. Josh listens to a lot of soul from which his voice learnt, but he’s heavy into soundtracks and symphony scores right now. Our newest member Don, listens to quite a variety, he showed us Niki and the Dove who were enjoying right now. TM: It’s my understanding that you guys came to Indiana to record much of Moths, Flames, Etc. Talk a little about that experience. BB: We set out in my 95 Volvo from with special intermittent air conditioning that worked five minutes at a time mid summer. We’d wake up at about 2 or 3 most days, with our friend Chase in Indiana. We would just go at it and work late into the night, and really we the tracks down quickly. Chase’s hospitality was great, and we drove back with a good feel- ing about it even though it barely took 5 days. Our thought then was that we did it as an expression of what we were feeling, not really hoping for anything beyond that. I think 6
that kind of approach is best. TM: How did it feel to be named in iTunes New + Noteworthy? BB: I was sitting in class, and I was just stunned. Totally caught me off-guard, it was a great feeling to be out there on that type of platform. TM: Do you have any plans to record a full length Careful Ones album? BB: We do intend to do a full length, and I am excited to see where it will take us. Want to do something different, but not something that’s over our heads. We’ll see. TM: You recently did a cover of the Bee Gees’ “To Love Somebody.” What draws you to that song? Do you guys do any other covers? BB: I think we understand what it’s like to feel a way about someone that they either can’t understand, can’t reciprocate, or can’t stick with to the end. It is in its nature about vulnerability, and the value in helplessness, whether it is wasted or not TM: What have your experiences been playing live shows as the Careful Ones? BB: Our first show I think we almost want to forget, but the people there were so welcoming and supportive. The second one, the following night we got our act together and as Don suggested, we just enjoyed ourselves more in our music, and it showed. It’s still early on and we are very much in the early stages of figuring out what our live performances will be like. So far we have developed some interesting methods. Looking forward to our show in Orlando this Friday as a next step. TM: Any plans for a tour? BB: We’d love to tour, just a matter of timing and a few more pieces. TM: Are you both still working on your solo projects? BB: Josh just finished up the debut Joshua Michael Robinson record which has quite an interesting sound, we’re all excited to be a part of that when that unfolds in the next months ahead. TM: Any other big plans for the Careful Ones? BB: Other than a Careful Ones theme park, we’re re releasing the EP in March with 3 new songs having retouched the others so look out. 7
photo by doris gutierrez 8
Album Review: Hoffman Manor by State Lines FFO: Tigers Jaw, Taking Back Sunday, Joyce Manor by matt boswell
Hoffman Manor is the debut album by Long Island quartet State Lines, and it is pretty spectacular for a first attempt. In as stripped down sense as you can make it, this is a punk rock band. For one to add on subgenres, it is apparent that State Lines draws influence from emo and pop-punk bands of the 90’s and early 2000’s. While this band is definitely influenced, it is in no way a rip-off of anyone. The music has a great feel that brings up memories of warm days with friends or sitting around watching leaves change colors. The vocals of Jonathan (JD) Dimitri are incredibly raw, emotional, and honest and it is a perfect complement to each song on this album. I say to start listening to this album with the song “Cancer,” but in all honesty this is a record you can put on any song of and fall in love. It begins very much in your face with a snare roll followed by a powerslide leading into the opening track, “Driver.” Clocking in at 2:10, it is the shortest song on the album, and in all entirety it feels much shorter than that. It’s a great way to set the mood for this album. Things turn down a little bit at the beginning of the next track, “Getaway,” but it quickly builds up into a real bouncy rock song. Following that song is “You Were A Hurricane,” which can easily be anyone’s go to song after experiencing heartbreak. The real gem on this album, however, is the fourth track, entitled “Cancer.” The story is that JD wrote this song through the eyes of his mother watching her father pass away from cancer. It certainly doesn’t feel like a sad song, but when you listen to the lyrics (not to mention the raw delivery of them) it really pulls on your heartstrings. This is a topic that doesn’t seem to be covered much in music, especially punk rock, but it’s something that almost everyone has had an experience with. The rest of the album stays just as strong as it began. My only complaint is while the second to last track, “House” is fantastic, it kind of feels out of place with the rest of the album, or at least the songs around it. It is a slower song that has a Brand New sort of feel to it, and it is the longest track on the album (4:09). However, I repeat by saying it is still a fantastic song. State Lines is still pretty unknown, but if they are able to keep up what they did on Hoffman Manor, it won’t stay like that for long. 9
Spielberg and the Sentimental Stallion by sir lance st. laurent There’s a prevailing wisdom in those of my generation that sentimentality is a dirty word. There’s a cynicism deep within us right now t h a t makes the guiding hand of an emotional manipulator pulling our heartstrings altogether unpleasant for us. In all fairness, the variety of sentiment that we’ve dealt with in the past decade or so has left something to be desired. It’s quite easy to become disillusioned about uplifting, emotionally heightened stories when the best we’re offered is dreck like The Blind Side. Worse, still, we are without directors who are willing to play in the pool of high emotion, save for one. Steven Spielberg is many things in American culture. He is without a doubt our most famous and popular director, master of the old-school blockbuster and the Oscar grabbing prestige picture alike. More than that, though, he is the most significant purveyor of classical American sentimentality since Frank Capra. This statement, though, has held less true in the past decade, where Spielberg has oscillated between fascinating, but unsentimental films and a few outright flops. War Horse is Spielberg’s first live-action film since the disastrous return of Indiana Jones. That film left me shaken and unsure that Steven Spielberg still had that combination and emotion and childlike wonder that made him so iconic. Thank God I was wrong. War Horse feels classic in many ways. It feels like classic Spielberg. We have a highly personal story set against the backdrop of a grand tragedy a la Schindler’s List and Private Ryan along with the story of a boy becoming best friends with a beast against insurmountable odds a la E.T. War Horse reaches farther back into film history than just Spielberg’s own filmography. Perhaps more than any contemporary film I’ve ever seen, War Horse made me explain one of my favorite cliches. “They don’t make movies like that anymore.” The films pastoral beauty (lensed by the master Janusz Kaminski) seems artificial in its stunning visuals, but it only serves to make the film more in line with the classics of John Ford and others. Aesthetically, it’s Spielberg’s most gorgeous films in years. The plot is simple and poignant. Albert (newcomer Jeremy Irvine) witnesses the birth of a horse who is soon 10
bought by his father despite not being the workhorse that their farm needs. After overcoming some local adversity in a typically Spielbergian fashion, the boy and his horse are separated by World War I. From there, we see the war mostly through the eyes of Joey, the titular war horse. On Joey’s journey he enters and quickly leaves the lives of dozens of people, which allows Spielberg to fill the supporting cast with some fantastic actors including Tom Hiddleston, Benedict Cumberbatch, Emily Watson, and David Thewlis (though none of them outact the horse at the center of the story). Some of these episodes work better than others, but the film moves at an entertaining pace for its entire runtime. Since the film deals explicitly with WWI, one might expect some of the visceral intensity that made Saving Private Ryan so memorable. While the film never reaches for that kind of gore (it is a family oriented Christmas release, after all), but this allows Spielberg to get a bit creative. One of the single best sequences in the film involves an attack that cuts between cavalrymen charging a squad of German soldiers and their riderless horses running for their lives. It is a subtle, effective, and completely bloodless sequence. Despite the film’s aesthetic beauty, the film’s sentimentality is bound to scare off some viewers, though. Do not fall into this trap. Is War Horse sentimental and emotionally manipulative? Damn straight. However, Spielberg manipulates with such finesse that every emotion pays off in dividends and the last 20 minutes will leave you a sobbing mass. This is a film that is worth letting go of your cynicism and pretension for, if only for a couple of hours. All cinema is about manipulating emotions, as much as we would like to admit otherwise. Steven Spielberg is often a punching bag for wannabe film snobs and hipsters for his mainstream sensibilities. There’s a reason that Spielberg is the most ubiquitous auteur in our culture, though. His ability to make stories emotionally universal makes his films appealing to all ages and demographics. His films bind audiences together not through cheap spectacle or hype, but by the universality of our emotions, be they joy, fear, sadness, or awe. 11
AN Interview with Andy Hull by ian teti
It’s a strange feeling sitting across from your idol in a completely empty room. It isn’t easy to shake off the jitters at first. I would lie if I claimed that I held my composure and didn’t have butterflies when Andy Hull, lyricist and front man of Manchester Orchestra, walked into the room and sat down across from me. I had only heard this man through my headphones, and hours before his performance, we occupied a small room in the basement of the Syracuse University student center. What hooked me onto indie-rock quintet Manchester Orchestra were the lyrics. There was something about them that seemed so perfect and effortlessly written. There was meaning behind them instead of just words on paper that melodically sounded good. I had never heard anything like the sound Manchester created and upon hearing that my interview with Andy Hull was approved, I really didn’t know what to expect or how to seem professional about the interview. I just wanted to burst into the room and scream “Tell me your life story!” I did not do this, and in a comedic way I am sad that I didn’t really get to know Andy as a person. However, I am able to say that we conversed about music for a solid twenty-five minutes; I couldn’t realistic ask for more. My hands were sweaty and nervously tapped on my thighs as Andy entered the room. He was much shorter than I expected, and didn’t tower of my 5’6’’ stature at all. His beard was still as full as it had been in pictures and videos and he wore a white Manchester Orchestra t-shirt, which I thought was the coolest thing in the world. Band members wearing their own merch? Only Manchester. He smelled of cigarettes and the wear and tear from his constant touring this year showed in his face. I have never really interviewed someone from really popular band, or someone who has music that has directly impacted me, so my interview skills were not nearly up to par. As he sat down, I thought, how the hell do I start this thing? “So, how’s it going?” blurted out of my mouth and after Andy said that things were going really well, an enthusiastic expression shown on my face that said, “Wow, Andy is doing really well. This is the coolest day of my life.” Words stumbled out of my mouth slowly and sporadically at first. I admit, it took me some time to get my bearings and actually overcome the fact that I was in the same room as Andy, but after sometime I found my footing and got in my groove. Hull was more than genuine. I wasn’t going to hide the fact that I was an avid listener of his music and that I am more of a fan than an interviewer, and I believe Andy picked up on this fairly quickly into our interview when I started asking more questions about the music he’s made over the years rather than about what he is planning to do or how he felt about being at Syra12
cuse. But instead of being cocky and arrogant, he answered my questions thoroughly and diligently and laughed at his jokes along with me. He could’ve easily shaken off my questions as they were coming from a nervous, dorky fan, but he rather thought about them and gave me beneficial answers. What shocked me about Hull was how young he was. I knew that he had formed Manchester in high school, but he is only a couple years older than I am and has one of the biggest bands in the indie-rock world. I was incredibly envious when he began to talk about touring with famous bands before the age of twenty. I thought to myself, “Seriously. I’m twenty and THIS is the coolest thing I’ve done.” The interview ended when I ran out of questions instead of Andy cutting me off which made me feel like I had actually produced some good questions. I thanked him and he did the same and we parted ways. After stepping out of the door, I knew I had really accomplished something amazing. If you had asked me whom I wanted to interview more than anyone else everyday for the past four years I would answer Andy Hull. Not many people can say they have interviewed their idol, and for this reason I consider myself lucky, Now, I can just go back to listening to Manchester records and think to myself, “you met this guy.” I am incredibly content with that simple thought.
recess coffee celebrates five year anniversary Congratulations to Recess Coffee for supplying Syracuse with the perfect coffee house right off Westcott for five years and for bringing together all our myspace friends at their fifth year anniversary show - which was killer. With great art, old friends and progressive music - with ultimate catering done by Alto Cinco - and of course perfect coffee - the Recess Anniversary Show was a hit. Awesome sets by Padna, Genetic Infantrymen, East, Ohne-Kane and the Burning River, Rejouissance, Rust Empire, White Picket Fence and Mandate of Heaven!! -- photos by David Faes
LOUIE, LOU, LOUIS by andrew mcclain
It’s hard to explain why, exactly, but Louis C.K. is definitely having his moment right now. Louis is currently 44 years old and has been doing comedy since before he was 20. Most of his career has been spent working as a stand-up comic and writing for various sitcoms and late-night shows, writing movie scripts and doing punch-up. He’s had several unsuccessful sitcoms. He has gained a great deal of visibility in the past several years through his two most recent stand-up specials, Chewed Up and Hilarious, as well as his show Louie on FX, which he stars in, produces, writes, directs and edits. Last month, Louie shook things up by booking two shows at the Beacon theater in New York City and paying to have them taped. He then took the footage and edited it by himself. He put the finished product up on his website and offered it to his fans for five dollars. No protection, no DRM, just a .avi file that you can download twice and stream twice (he later added third stream as a bonus). The special made one million dollars in only a few weeks. Why? What’s special about Louis? It’s almost impossible to explain. I think part of it is Louis’ sheer vulnerability that sets him apart. His stage persona seems unconcerned with presenting himself as a respectable person. He refuses to represent himself as an intelligent guy. He reveals details of sordid sexual experiences that are only initially funny because of how shocking it is for someone to be talking about them, but then funny because Louis is telling us things that he can’t tell anyone over dinner, and neither can we. Comedy has always served an under-recognized social function. Not only does it serve as protected social commentary, but history shows us generations of comic figures dating back to ancient jesters who would ride horses backwards and generally behave in a manner exactly contrary to the way that functional members of society should behave. By becoming a social oddity for people to laugh at, comics have displayed an inverted life philosophy that offers insight to the way we shouldn’t live and challenges us to think about why. 16
Louis C.K. takes a postmodern approach to his comedy. He covers common comic fodder like air travel, sexual and racial issues, and Cinnabon, but with a certain self-effacing detachment. Louis opens one of his shows by confessing “I don’t know how to start shows. It’s just a problem that I have. I never figured out how to come out and just start talking, because the first thing you say on stage always feels stupid, because there’s no real reason for me to talk to you. It just doesn’t exist. I don’t know you, you don’t even know each other. You’re facing the same direction; that’s all you have in common.” Louis’ television show, Louie, is an unconventional TV comedy that ranges from sharp, witty and hyper-real to bizarre and surreal. It becomes clear that some events in the show are bizarre projections of Louis’ own neuroses, as he copes with strange situations that seem like the odd hypotheticals of a nervous mind, rather than common experiences. It became clear to me that nothing about Louis C.K. is funny on paper. Maybe this is why his few produced screenplays have been commercial failures. It all rides on his persona and the way he treats himself. Louis seems to be prone towards depression, as many comics are. He also claims a certain amount of self-loathing, which I think is exaggerated. Yes, Louis claims to hate himself, but he smiles while he says it.
The Most Pretentious Things I’ve Ever Said by marc sollinger “Hmmm, who would I choose to direct a literary adaptation of The Stranger? Well, obviously Kurosawa, if he were alive, I mean, that just goes without saying.” “It’s as if I can’t go five seconds without reading a think piece on Odd Future.” “Oh god, you like Nickelback? Like, unironically? Haha, I guess we can’t be friends. Seriously though, we can no longer be friends.” “I mean Radiohead are a great band to love in high school, but after a certain point, you just move past them. It’s called growing up.” “Yes, I do have a poster of ‘This American Life’ in my room, why? It complements the Lou Reed poster really nicely.” “Yes dad, we could go and see Tower Heist. We could also hammer nails into each others’ eyes. It’s pretty much the same thing. Can we please just see Martha Marcy-May Marlene?” “The thing is, Un Chien Andalou is far more in line with the ethos of dada than surrealism. It can almost be seen as a proto-punk film, sort of the silent movie version of ? and The Mysterians.” “I’m only kind of joking, you like Nickelback, therefore we are not friends.” “Well, I guess I could go as a hipster, but the costume would basically just be my regular outfit plus a scarf and some frameless glasses. Do we have any empty cans of PBR?” “It’s as if I can’t go five seconds without reading a think piece on Lana Del Rey.” “You haven’t heard of ‘The Best Show on WFMU’? It’s the funniest thing ever, essentially it’s long form radio comedy where the drummer from Superchunk and The Mountain Goats calls in with a bunch of insane characters from the fictional town of Newbridge, New Jersey. It’s hilarious in and of itself, but it also functions as this meditation on American...hey wait, where are you going? “Of course I’ve seen Ken Burns’ ‘Prohibition’, I watched it as soon as it was available online!” “Have you checked out the retrospective I wrote about the Elephant 6 Collective?” “Eh, Chillwave as a genre is just ridiculously overblown.” “Hey JD, if you had to pick, what would be the most pretentious thing I’ve ever said to you? I’m coming up with a list for my friend’s underground zine.” “David Foster Wallace is my favorite writer.” 18
From Across the Pond: Esben and the Witch by queen karen edith millar
This is one of the more original acts to come out of the UK as of late. Describing their genre as ‘nightmare pop’, the Brighton-based trio of multi -instrumentalists fuse an odd mixture of skillfully executed electro beats and seemingly dark, gothic lyrics to end up with an incredibly unique, almost hypnotic approach to melody making. The antiquated, almost Dickensian image the band members sport, although in stark contrast to their repertoire and style of songs, somehow seems to work wonders and more than sets them apart from the hoards of other artists trying to jump on the filthy hipster bandwagon of excessive synthesizer use. Being Matador’s first UK signing in over six years, expect to see a lot of this band in the US in the future – they’ve already played more Stateside support shows than many British acts who have been about a lot longer. In the meantime, as we wait for the next flurry of American tour dates to be announced, take a listen to their debut album, Violet Cries – you won’t be disappointed.
WANT MORE MISCREANT? Alas, my dear miscreants, you’ve just finished the final issue of The Miscreant to be put out in 2011. Thank you to everyone who has read and contributed this issue, and the ones before. I’m continuously amazed by all the talented friends I have who submit thier work. I can’t wait to see what awesome work comes with the new year! And a secial thank you to the Careful Ones. I am so incredibly honored to have these guys involved in the zine. Please go check out their EP on iTunes and Spotify. I promise you will be amazed. It is certainly one of my favorite releases of the year, and I can’t wait to see what comes next for these guys. And now, my friends, send your musical resolutions, list of your favorite record stores, your in-depth reviews, etc to: firstname.lastname@example.org. Love, the miscreant