Page 1

in this issue page 4

a conversation with psapp tori cote interviews the duo about their new record and stuff

page 7

browsing to pat benetar dan creahan ruminates on music at the grocery store

page 8

an interview with eugene mirman the miscreant has a phone conversation with the comedian

page 12

a few simple words about the chris gethard show connor benincasa talks about how tcgs changed his perspective

page 14

are we having a moment? ian stanley tells us about his most meaningful moments in music

page 18

the synch: a q&a with supermusicvision quinn donnell asks folks from supermusicvision about the music from some of his favorite tv shows

page 20

different colors made of tears olivia cellamare writes an ode to her hero, lou reed

page 22

photos from the le sigh zine release show jeanette and andi wilson took pictures/danced

page 23

will smith’s make out playlist william smith shares his favorite songs to swap spit to

page 24

because i was in love cassandra baim wonders why we listen to music for crushes

page 27

musical memories colleen bidwill talks about her favorite memories connected to a song

page 28

jojo gives his two cents rafael grafals gets a child’s opinion on some songs

page 31

lillix: never forget bella mazzetti reminds us of an awesome band


a conversation with psapp by tori cote

Psapp is made up of members Carim Clasmann and Galia Durant. The band is known for having started a sort of genre called toytronica, or rather music made with toys and toy instruments. On November 11th, the band released their most current album, What Makes Us Glow. As of yet, the band has released four albums (Tiger, My Friend, The Only Thing I Ever Wanted, The Camel’s Back and What Makes Us Glow) Psapp is one of those bands that you already feel like you’re best friends with, probably because they are so warm, cute, and cuddle. Read ahead to learn a little bit more about their feelings, music, and tours. Tori: How did you get two come up with the name PSAPP? Galia: As with most things we do, we chose it because we liked the sound of the word. It sounds like someone breaking a wet green twig. Maybe it was the first thing we ever heard outside… The wet slap of being born. Carim: I thought it was the sound that occurred when part of the ceiling came down underneath the bathroom after the water pipe burst. For years to come you could look through that hole in ceiling into the living room while sitting on the toilet. Tori: When/how did the two of you meet? Galia: I walked into Carim’s Kings Cross studio one cold January evening and that was it. Carim: My friend Tim brought her along out of the blue and I found her a little annoying at first, which I still do today underneath five metric tones of love. So Psapp does have a birthday, which for the first time ever we celebrated this year. We sometimes speak of Psapp as a person, a sort of joint character, which is much better than each of us individually - a combination of our good halves. Maybe we should join our unpleasant halves as well into some sort of “bad bank” - I suppose we will need a name for that ugly creature. Tori: You two met a long time ago and seem as if are in it for the long run, do you guys ever fight on tour or get really silly? Galia: We have a ridiculously large amount of in-jokes that only we find funny - that’s what comes of years of working together. There is always some extreme silliness. I think we enjoy how the silliness, anger, joys and frustration is all melded together in our music. We don’t fight in the studio but we don’t always agree. Sometimes there’s a fair bit of haggling. But we never release anything unless we are both happy with it. Especially me. Carim: I think it helps that you always have to convince the other half of your ideas as well. A little friction makes you more inventive and less likely to get stuck in your own orbit. Sometimes we are fully in “the studio zone” ; unaware of the existence of the world outside. We might


write a song, hit each other with Boomwackers (tuned plastic tubes), write a list of words that should exist but don’t, dream of places that should exist but don’t, imagine a concept for an album which we will never see through, work on a song we started a while ago, put on our coats and record noises in the forest or get distracted by the phone and the bubble bursts. I think, as we have known each other for twelve years now we have learnt how to deal with disagreements and still move on. Although we’ve done so much together, there is still so much space for surprises as we will never be able to predict what the other one will do - you might guess and it might be even the right assumption but it might equally be the opposite. Tori: What was some of the inspiration for the lyrics and sounds on your new album? Galia: The record as a whole has, as always with our records, been inspired by everything that has happened to us in the past few years. In a way it is a transitional record - bridging a gap between huge life changes. Lyrically, we’ve drawn inspiration from the extremes of city and country life, attachment, detachment and the complexities of our working relationship. In terms of sounds, we’ve used lots of creatures - dead and alive - bones, dead insects, cows, mealworms as well as some of our favourite new instruments including the excellent vuvuzela and some plastic tubes of varying lengths which when banged on any object resonates at a different note depending on the length. Bloody lovely. Tori: How does it feel to hear your music on television or in movies? Galia: It’s quite funny to be sitting slumped in front of the telly and to hear yourself singing over a documentary about obese American families or disabled pets, a blockbuster drama, some snogging teenagers or a drama about a funeral home. To have music you have written about a specific event or person being applied to something completely different does feel odd and almost dilutes your ownership of the track. It becomes public property. There are plenty of songs we have set free now which maybe don’t feel as much ours as when we were nurturing their first tiny squawks in the studio. Carim: Surprised and usually amused. Tori: What sort of direction do you two see your band going in? Anything we should be looking out for? Galia: We are itching to get back into the studio and start working on new music. We’re hoping it won’t be too long before our next record. We probably won’t tour this record as we’re too desperate to write another! Carim: yes, a lot of ideas of new albums, I can hear the songs already in my head but when we get together and our brains collide the result will be something different which is probably for the best. I think our strength still is to make plans and then throw them overboard. All ideas about new directions are great starting points that usually lead to a completely different result.


This issue is brought to you by the wishbone.

Single of the

Week “Jokes With a Theramin!” is a bit from Eugene Mirman’s latest record, An Evening of Comedy In a Fake, Underground Laboratory. It’s pretty much exactly what the title suggest. Listen to this album, but not on loud speakers at work unless your boss is really cool.


browsing to pat benetar by dan creahan

There’s a single shelf at the Myrtle Avenue location of the Food Bazaar that carries a particularly delicious, piquant Salvadoran coleslaw. It’s comparable to sauerkraut: pickled lightly with a slight tang, and perfect for barbeque, or for the enticing pupusas that the country’s so well known for. The challenge is that you have to search for it, combing aisles while you try and convince yourself that it should be in the fresh vegetable section, or if not, then certainly the canned foods aisle. Wrong again, then it’s got to be in the international foods section, right? The whole time, floating over the dull racks and shelving units is a delicate, woozy synth line, swimming in and out of the crying children and price checks. Nearly alien, faint, it gives the gleaming fruits and rows of canned corn an alien hue, some bizarre limbo of plenty. Then, from that slithering, subtle line: those drums; booming over the mix, lock-step with her steamroller melody line. Sheer force rising out of the mist, and then dropping back down to almost the exact same place it sprung from. The song is an all-or-nothing affair, the pure image of pop songcraft in a simple on-or-off dialectic. It’s almost as if they had to strip everything out of the verses so that we could catch our breath. Pat Benatar’s “We Belong.” I turn vacantly past the avocados for the third time as the drums kick in for the second time, sending a fellow shopper into a bemused chuckle as I mimic the drum hits again. It makes almost any experience into an Olympic triumph, including the moment you lock eyes on the blue and white label of Doña Lisa Pickled Cabbage. It’s enjoyable imagining Benatar in the studio banging this one out, wondering if maybe she realized she was marking out the map to a pop song, charting the transitions between the driving, emotional heft of a simple rhythm and the plaintive simplicity of a verse connecting the peaks. “This one’s for the everyman,” she thinks to herself. “For the working girls around the world, waiting in line at the grocery store.” And there, she dug in, went big, all by stripping it back, then going full out when she needs it most. You can search through your whole bag of tricks to finish a jam off, but sometimes the winning move is just under your nose, waiting for you to take a step back, or realize that this is what you were looking for all along. Sort of like Salvadoran Cole Slaw.


eugene Eugene Mirman has been a figure in the world of comedy for over a decade. He’s released some well-crafted and wonderfully bizarre stand up records, he’s been a part of delightful casts of shows like Bob’s Burgers and Flight of the Conchords, and he’s toured with rock bands like Modest Mouse and The Shins. A part of the New York comedy world, he’s consistently surrounded himself with talented comedians and musicians alike. Here he talks about how the worlds of comedy and music have met over the years and throughout his diverse career. Check out Eugene on Bob’s Burgers, which airs on Fox Sundays, 7/6c. Also, see him on the road in December with Kurt Braunohler and Derrick Brown. The Miscreant: You’ve been a part of this community, especially here in New York, of a bunch of musicians and comics. You’ve really been a part of bringing these two art forms together, music and comedy. Was that happenstance, or have you always been an active fan of both? Eugene Mirman: Well, I do comedy and I can’t play music, but I’ve always loved music. I mean, I think in general, there’s a certain mutual appreciation between a lot of comedians and musicians, you know? I think a lot of variety shows sort of naturally happen, because we all enjoy doing stuff together. The Miscreant: There seems to be certain genre of both comedy and music that intersect right now. You have a lot of alt comics that talk a lot about music, like Kurt Braunholer, and you have a bunch of musicians like Ted Leo and Neko Case who are regularly involved in variety


mirman an interview by the miscreant

shows. Do you think that the nature of it is currently pretty specific to the genre? Eugene: Well, Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra used to perform together. Even now if you go see 60’s bands, there will sometimes be a comedian. I think that the worlds have always been intertwined. It’s just that you end up collaborating with people who you like and who you enjoy being with. A lot of the musicians that I work with or do shows with are just people who I like and enjoy working with. But I think that it can grow beyond it, as it has in the past. Sam Kinison used to tour with metal bands, you know? I mean, genres change and things come and go. But I’m about to go on tour and I’m bringing a poet with me, because I really like him and I think he’s really funny. Derrick Brown is a really amazing poet, and he’s from Austin, Texas. I’m going to do several shows with him. Actually, me, him and Kurt [Braunholer]. I saw him perform and I thought that it would work well together, the same that it would work with musicians. In general, I think people like to mix and match with whatever they think will be fun and interesting. The Miscreant: What were the first projects that you worked on that combined music and comedy? Eugene: I did a tour opening for Modest Mouse, but even before that I had done tours opening for Stella. It’s Michael Ian Black, David Wain, and Michael Showalter. They had a three person comedy act, and we would tour rock clubs. In general, in New York especially, a lot of comedy used to happen in theater and cabaret spaces. It was the late 70s to the early 90s when comedy clubs became such a prominent things. So, especially in Europe even now, I mostly perform in spaces that are music venues. The majority of the shows I do are in theater-y music venues. But yeah, some of the early collaborations were touring with Modest Mouse, and I opened for the Shins. And then I emceed a tour for Cake for their Unlimited Sunshine Tour, and that was really fun. Yo La Tengo has been doing stuff with comedians for ten, fifteen years, maybe more. I think that a lot of it is, you know, Yo La Tengo did music for Todd Barry’s one


man show. A lot of the worlds have been around and together for a while. The Miscreant: Did you start out performing in comedy clubs as opposed to rock clubs? Just because you came up during a time where there were comedy clubs. Eugene: Yeah, I did my first set in a comedy club in Harvard Square in Cambridge, Catch A Rising Star, where a lot of comics used to perform, like Cross, Louie, Maron, Janeane. But then about six months after I did a show there, it went out of business. I had just graduated high school. And then when I went to college, there was one comedy club in a Chinese restaurant, or there were just random comedy nights at places. At some point, I just started a comedy night in the basement of my dorm, just because there wasn’t enough…it was a rural area. So, in general, even after that when I graduated and moved to Boston and started doing comedy, there was a Chinese restaurant that had comedy three nights a week that eventually grew to more. There was a music venue that was sort of indie rock and jazz and Irish music, and they gave me Thursday nights. I did that for a while. So, in general, I always sort of found my own space and then put on a comedy show. And I’ve done that for a long time. But I also performed at lots of regular comedy clubs as well. My focus has always been on starting my own shows. And now it’s pretty common. Some of the best shows in the City are these one-night things, like Mondays at Littlefield or Sundays at Union Hall or Knitting Factory. And Wyatt’s show is super fun. Some of those are the most fun shows in the City. But on the other hand, you can also go to the Cellar where there would be a really amazing line up, generally. The Miscreant: Then you get the variety shows like The Chris Gethard Show that employ the same genres based on the traditional setting of a talk show on cable access. You get WOJCIK or Ted Leo, whoever else. But when you would go out and tour with bands like Modest Mouse and the Shins, were there ever shows where audiences weren’t as receptive? Eugene: Yeah, in general, it’s much harder doing comedy in front of a music crowd as opposed to a comedy crowd. With Modest Mouse, and this was also nine maybe even ten years ago, we did a tour of a lot of cities in Florida. And there was maybe two that were genuinely, like Miami, horrible. Like lots of yelling, and sort of almost commotion more than anything. Not even pure heckling, but sort of chaos. Then another show in Tallahassee was really kooky. But actually, a bunch of them went really well and were very fun. But it’s just sort of a mixed bag. But with the Shins, or when I opened, more recently, for Andrew Bird, that was incredibly fun. And Yo La Tengo, doing shows with them, because their audience knows that there’s going to be comedy. It just depends. It is sort of harder. I don’t do it nearly as much. I love performing in music spaces, which I always have, because everyone who comes to a music space to see comedy is there to see you. Everyone who goes to a comedy club to see comedy is not necessarily there to see you. They’re there to see the very broad genre of comedy. No one accidentally goes to Littlefield or Bell House assuming there will be comedy, you only go there if you know there will be comedy. Obviously, you could go there to see David Byrne as well. The Miscreant: You’ve been employing a Theremin into your act recently. Is that something


you’ve always been interested in, often finding yourself in a musical setting? Eugene: Yeah, I wish I could play music, which I just can’t do in any way that someone would traditionally define as music. There are a lot of comedians who have a guitar and tell jokes, so I thought it’d be funny to have this dumb Theremin playing underneath. It’s a combination of the thing that it actually is, and slight satire. It’s mostly just meant to be this funny, weird thing. I incorporate music as much as it’s possible for someone who in no way can play music. The Miscreant: You’re a veteran of music festivals and conferences, like South By Southwest, where music is a huge entity just as much film or interactive. Comedy has grown to have more and more presence. Do you think that these festivals are affecting the landscape of alt comedy? Eugene: A lot of musical festivals have added comedy. It depends. The thing is like, Bumbershoot, who has done it for like ten or fifteen years, has an indoor theater and it’s really great. If the tent is cool and it’s far enough away from music, it’s wonderful. Other times, it can be so loud that it’s sort of funny. You can put bands slightly near each other, but you can’t have a person talking and then music. I don’t know how it’ll all go. The thing is that the worlds of music and comedy work very differently. At some music festivals it works out kind of great, and then other festivals it’s hard to say. I know that for years, they had comedy at South By. And I think maybe recently, they only had it during Interactive and not during the music portion. I think that it somehow maybe got too loud. I don’t know the details of it, other than there definitely is comedy there. I just think that some places it’s fun and others it is difficult. I don’t know how it’s affecting things overall, just that it’s fun to go to these things and see bands and friends. The best part of Bonnaroo is that you get to see Neil Young play. I just did Outside Lands in San Francisco. That was really fun. That was in a beautiful tent, far enough away from the music. So, the show was wonderful. And then I got to see Paul McCartney after. You’re sort of delighted they incorporated comedy into their festival, so you can go have a great show and go see Paul McCartney. The Miscreant: Well, you know, even though the world’s comedy and music work very differently and are very different, I think that it’s a lot easier to do things on your own now in both cases. It’s a lot easier to make up you own rules. That’s clearly something you’ve experienced. Eugene: Yes, completely. In fact, a lot of the way that my career has worked has been more like a band’s career works than a traditional comic. I mean, you know, in 2003 or 2004, I put out a CD on an indie label, which was great. Even now I put out records on Sub Pop. The thing that’s kind of great about that is, like in the 70s, you’d be on The Tonight Show, and then you would become sort of a star. There were only a handful of ways to become a comic. And now, decades later, there are all these little, different, niche things you can do on your own. You can put out a record yourself, you can organize tours, you can promote things with the internet, and it used to be so much harder. As a result, there’s also a great deal of noise. But also, there’s the opportunity, which is what I value. The fact that it’s possible is very exciting. And, in that sense, comics can do things that bands used to or do now. You can create your own thing.


A few simple words on TCGS by connor benincasa

When I began my freshman year of college last Autumn, I found myself falling victim to a common problem faced by young people moving somewhere new. I couldn’t talk to strangers. I walked across campus with my eyes glued to the pavement, and further isolated myself within the confines of my headphones. I often ate alone, which never bothered me much, because I didn’t want to talk to people in the first place. I could barely make eye contact with strangers without my pulse quickening, and found myself taking long walks alone through Boston to clear my head. I got lucky, though. And if you think that means I got laid, think again. I was assigned two roommates, and by some insane stroke of luck, they turned out to be two of the best friends I would ever have the pleasure of knowing. We all had different interests, mine laying primarily in playing and performing music, Jon’s in drag and fashion, and Danny’s in music and comedy. Danny did video work for some insane public access show that was broadcast online, hosted by an underground comedian I had never heard of. While this sounded cool, I never paid it too much mind until we watched an episode one Wednesday night on which R.L. Stine was the guest, and the cast attempted to write a novel within the space of the broadcast hour based on suggestions from viewers calling in to the show. It was chaos. And it was beautiful. It was The Chris Gethard Show. The Chris Gethard Show (often abbreviated “TCGS”) began as a stage show at the Upright Citizens Brigade Theater, and eventually made its way onto public access on the Manhattan Neighborhood Network. Every week on Wednesday night, the show is broadcast live on public access and online, usually with something like a few hundred viewers at most. All episodes are later uploaded to or Youtube, and to date there have been over 115 episodes, with a number of “specials” filmed separately from the show, and even a 12-hour long live coverage of the 2012 presidential election. Typically, the show is set up with a panel of comedians, friends, and Chris hosting, with a live studio audience and a musical guest. Bizarre recurring characters such as Bananaman, The Human Fish, and The Guy Who Likes Cream, BUT NOT TOO MUCH CREAM, run rampant as well. Viewers can call in to the studio and talk to Chris and the panel live on the air, discussing anything from that week’s chosen topic to how their day has been. No subject is taboo. In this way, TCGS is an incredibly intimate experience. Many callers have formed personal relationships with Chris and the panel, and have become regular features on the show. TCGS celebrates the aloof and the absurd. With slogans such as “Loser is the new Nerd” and “Lose Well,” the cast and live audience openly discuss and often exploit their traits that they feel are most crippling or embarrassing. For example, one entire episode was dedicated to the discussion of panic attacks, with Chris and callers sharing their personal experiences.


TCGS is effortlessly genuine, due in part to its shoestring budget and also to the fact that it’s filmed live on public access. Many episodes have resulted in pandemonium, while others have been designed to. One episode, “The Hour Long Song,” was literally one hour of the entire cast and audience playing various instruments together for one hour without stopping. Because of the show’s raw and haphazard nature, it possesses a totally charming punk rock aesthetic. Props for the show are bought or collected by Chris and the show’s head writers. The musical guests featured on the show are almost always underground acts with little notoriety, and I’ve actually discovered a couple of artists I like a lot through the show, most notably Mal Blum. Amputated from most social interaction, anxious, depressed, and terrified, I was saved by The Chris Gethard Show. Perhaps “saved” isn’t the best word, as Chris Gethard himself would probably agree with the statement that overcoming these social problems is an ongoing battle that we fight every day. Anyhow, TCGS became more than a show to me and many others. It’s an event that takes place live every Wednesday night, wherein no matter what weird or fucked up problems you face, you’re in good company. And it is fucking hilarious. As someone suffering, this was the type of community I needed most to help me understand that I was going to be okay. When I set out to write this article, I was nervous, mostly because TCGS is important to a lot of people, and I’m one of them. It’s something much bigger than me, and it’s bigger than Chris Gethard, and it’s incredible and intimidating and beautiful. It’s hard to write about big things. David Byrne infamously rarely wrote love songs because love is “kinda big,” leading him to stick to smaller topics. I was nervous to write about something that I knew I could never accurately describe, so I set out to describe what it meant to me. TCGS helped me realize it’s okay to be weird, and it’s okay to have stupid problems, and sometimes, stupid problems aren’t the weird parts about you. Our stupid problems are sometimes the most normal parts about us, and they can ruin our lives if we let them. I left college after my first semester. I’ve been living with my dad and working in kitchens part time, in an effort to focus more on my music. Despite leaving the classroom, I’ve learned a lot since leaving school. I’ve learned that we all have the ability to decide what it is that we want to work toward. Whether it’s comedy, or music, or being a doctor, or a chef, or an electrician, or a writer, or a teacher, or a dancer— We have that choice. And while, admittedly, self-motivating is one of my worst skills, The Chris Gethard Show sure as hell has helped me along the way. It’s taught me that you should go after what you want, even though you’re afraid. It’s taught me that even when you suck at the thing you love, you should keep doing it. It’s helped me to realize that even though I’m terrified of writing this article because I’m afraid it won’t be good enough, I should just do it. TCGS made a big announcement this Wednesday, right when I was in the middle of writing this article about the little public access show that could. The Chris Gethard show has been picked up for a pilot on Comedy Central, and will be produced by Zach Galifianakis, Will Ferrell, Owen Burke, and Adam McKay. Obviously, this changes everything. It’s a weird feeling to be writing about something you love, when it changes entirely in the midst of your writing. This change doesn’t change my love for the show, though, and I want to take this opportunity to show my full support for Chris and the entire TCGS cast and crew as they move forward. The Chris Gethard Show changed my life. If you’re an insecure, lonely, pissed off kid (which, let’s face it, you probably are if you’re reading this zine), it could change yours, too. I’ll leave all of you Miscreants with some advice TCGS gave me: never give up. And lose well.


are we having a moment? by ian stanley

As corny as it sounds, I love having moments with music. You know, the instances when you encounter a song, album, or performance that you’re sure will stick with you for a long time to come. Well, this year was a year like most for me. It was not particularly memorable, but of course it had its fair share of music moments that I logged away in my already over-crowded brain. While I could certainly wax poetic on many of them, I’ve chosen ten of them to share here. If nothing else I hope that they inspire you to think back through your 2013 and those musical occurrence that mean something to you.

Emily Reo’s “Car” I was desperately sick in bed the first time I listened to Emily Reo’s Olive Juice all the way through. I’m not sure if I was delirious, or if it was the cold medication that I was on at the time, but when the album hit its final track “Car” I nearly burst into tears. It’s such a sorrowfully sweet note to end the album on and Emily’s voice sounds like an angel as it floats along the song’s swirling synths


and endearingly timid melody. Really, the only thing that compared to that moment was seeing Emily play “Car” live last month at CMJ. Simply put it was absolutely breathtaking. Kanye West’s “Black Skinhead” performace on SNL My conversion from a Kanye critic to a Kanye fanatic was a rather swift one. I remember the summer that it happened I completely digested all of West’s then albums (from Late Registration to 808s and Heartbreaks) in a matter of weeks. Since then I’ve been a huge fan, which makes it sting all the more for me to say that I am really not a fan of Yeezus. I have my reasons, but let’s forget that for a minute. In the very brief moments leading up to the album’s release, Kanye gave an absolutely unforgettable performance on Saturday Night Live. He performed “Black Skinhead” and the first time I saw it I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Kanye seemed hungry, dark, ferocious, and (in the first time for a long time) outright dangerous. Revisiting the performance now still gives me goosebumps. Autre Ne Veut’s video for “Counting” featuring Mykki Blanco Though it technically debuted last December, it’s close enough that I’m lumping it in with 2013. I was already a huge fan of Autre Ne Veut before the “Counting” video dropped, so seeing it and hearing the single for the first time was amazing. The stark and minimal video recounts Arthur Ashin’s time in the hospital with an ailing grandmother who he was very close with. I know firsthand what it’s like to watch a beloved grandparent succumb to a cruel disease, so it all hit very close to home for me. The idea of wanting more time from someone who doesn’t have it is a heartbreaking notion and one that Autre Ne Veut captured so heartbreakingly with “Counting.” Rob’s Maniac film score I love horror movies so completely that you could argue that I’m obsessed with them. I’ve had all the talks with concerned family members, but it had no effect. I’m still in deep. Anyways, this year saw the release of the Alex Aja produced Maniac remake. Normally I approach horror remakes with caution, but Maniac ultimately won me over with its unique approach and brutal realism. One of the biggest reasons why the film resonated so with me was the incredible score. Credited to a French composer simply known as Rob, the music is an almost too-perfect throwback to the best Giallo and exploitation horror flicks of the 70’s and 80’s. For a total horror nut like myself the score showed a level of care and attention to detail that unfortunately is all too rare in the genre these days. Ariana Grande’s “Tattoed Heart” I am a sucker for pop music. My favorite pop record last year was Carly Rae Jepsen’s Kiss if that gives you some context. This year my search for the next big pop record brought me to Ariana Grande’s Yours Truly. I was a bit apprehensive having learned that she is a Nickelodeon star, but man I was so completely won over by the level of songwriting on this record coupled with Ariana’s huge voice. People are hailing her the next Mariah and I can see why. The track that really pushed me over the edge was “Tattooed Heart,” a throwback to the days of doo-wop


and jukebox love. I was raised on oldies like Diana Ross & the Supremes, Connie Francis, and The Platters; so the song’s gentle nostalgia was particularly sweet to my ears. It’s arguably my favorite song of the year. Deafheaven’s Sunbather I liked Deafheaven well enough before their sophomore album Sunbather. I’d give their debut Roads to Judah the occasional spin, but it was nothing life changing. However when the band released “Dream House,” the first single from Sunbather, my jaw pretty much hit the floor. All of a sudden I could not wait another minute for the album to drop. When I finally got my hands on the whole thing that first listen was nothing short of transcendental. I oscillated back and forth between fighting the urge to punch the air in all directions and the desire to simply lie on my back in the grass and stare at clouds in the sky. Never before did I think that black metal could be so life affirming. I’ve also never been so happy to be wrong in my assumptions. Seeing Born Gold I had tried twice before to see Born Gold live in Philadelphia. The first of these two times the band ended up having to cancel the night of the show as I was standing outside the venue waiting to get in. Major. Bummer. The next year when Cecil Frena and company rolled back through the City of Brotherly Love I made sure to be the first in line. Unfortunately whoever booked the show screwed up royally with promotion and only six people showed up including myself. Six. So this year when lining up Portals CMJ showcase I pushed hard to get Born Gold on the bill. When I finally saw them as they were meant to be seen I was so incredibly elated I could barely contain myself. I danced like a crazy person, sweated buckets, and grinned from ear to ear with the rest of the perfectly receptive crowd as a LED-befitted Cecil grooved and conducted the crowd like a mad music scientist. Hoax’s self-titled LP I am a hardcore kid at heart. I come from a relatively conservative background and so when I hit my teenage years I made sure to hit them as rebelliously as I could (without going too crazy, of course). This led me to my punk and hardcore phase, which is arguably still going strong. This year I can think of no other album that perfectly encapsulates everything I love about hardcore music like Hoax’s self-titled album. Ferocious, vitriolic, and rotten the core, Hoax is the sort of album that you either play loud or you don’t play at all. I’m a bit of a weenie, but putting this album on has a way of making me forget that fact and it in no time at all I’m stomping around sizing people up. Cass McCombs’ “Brighter!” featuring Karen Black Cass McCombs’ 2009 album Catacombs holds a very special place in my heart. It came out at a time when I was bonding with someone who would go on to become one of my closest and dearest friends. The opening track “Dreams-Come-True-Girl,” in particular, with its guest vocals by Karen Black became a key player in our mutually shared playlist. Then this year Cass McCombs followed the track up with “Brighter!” another collaboration with Karen Black. The


track came only a month after Karen’s passing and so the song became a bittersweet cause for reflection on not only the amazing and mysterious woman that Karen was, but also of the time spent with my dear friend who has since moved hundreds of miles away. In a way it hurts my heart to listen to it, but I wouldn’t trade the memories for anything. Seeing and meeting Solange SXSW was the first time that I really got to meet and hang out with many of my online music friends. On Friday night I was hanging out at a diner with some chums waiting for my friend and business partner Tripp’s plane to land. It was the first time seeing Tripp in real life, which might seem odd since we own and operate Chill Mega Chill Records together, but such is the nature of the modern age. Anyways, it was late but Tripp wanted to see downtown Austin before heading to our friend’s house and so we began walking. It was around 1am and we were shuffling around the still busy streets when we decided to swing by the Hype Hotel and see if our friend Jake was still there. Luckily for us Solange’s set, which was supposed to happen at 8pm, was pushed back so late that she was literally taking the stage as we sauntered in. There we met up with Jake and some other friends, including a certain very drunk Miscreant Jeanette Wall, and we all danced our asses off with big dumb grins plastered across our faces. I can’t remember the last time that I was so completely happy. The only thing that came close was meeting Solange backstage at a Toro y Moi show the next day, but that’s a story for another time.


the syncH: a Q&A with supermusicvision by quinn donnell

Back in September, I wrote a piece for The Miscreant titled, “Walter White’s Radio.” In the piece, I explained my favorite musical moments from Breaking Bad’s five seasons. Breaking Bad is a series that will go down as one of television’s most innovative programs, and its music placement is largely responsible for such status. I recently had the opportunity to speak with Michelle Johnson and Yvette Metoyer from SuperMusicVision, the company headed by Thomas Golubić responsible for the music supervision on shows like Breaking Bad and The Walking Dead, and films like After the Sunset and the soon-to-be-released Trials of Cate McCall. Here, Yvette and Michelle discuss their roles at SuperMusicVision, their advice for independent artists, and their personal favorite placements. Quinn: When the SMV team works on a project, how do you divide responsibilities? What are you personally responsible for? Michelle: It’s by and large a cooperative working environment - where ever help is needed we all jump in- either on creative searches, tracking down copyright ownership, sending requests, etc. Quinn: I understand that both of you have done your own projects, mainly independent films; do you approach independent films differently than big shows like Breaking Bad or The Walking Dead? Is there a significant difference in your budget when you do an indie as opposed to a TV show? Yvette: Indie films can be challenging. Although TV series often times have less than adequate budgets with which to work, the independent films SMV have recently worked on have had practically no source music budget at all, and usually when we see a first cut there is wall-towall music with often very big copyrights. The first thing we try to do, is determine which scenes really need music, and which scenes play better without music. Once this is accomplished, and with the director’s blessing, we have removed 1/3 of the music that was originally in the film. Managing director’s expectations is very important as well. It’s pretty tough sometimes to convince directors that don’t always have to have Van Halen or Justin Timberlake in their films, but we can find songs just as appropriate or even better (and less expensive) for the scene. Building the director’s trust allows us to offer unexpected but thoughtful ideas. It’s also an added benefit to have positive relationships with our film and TV music colleagues at the labels publishing companies and licensing companies. Again, back to building trust - I think we have built a positive rapport with our colleagues by being honest with them about are fees and budget, sometimes they have been able to work with us projects that have extremely low budgets. Michelle: Independent films are a bit different mostly in the time it takes to turn around a project. Films in general take longer to compete than television. In television we are sometimes providing music, getting approvals from the showrunners, clearing songs and mixing an episode in one week! A film can sometimes take several months to a year to complete. As far as budgets go, independent films almost always have a more limited music budget than tv.


Quinn: What’s the best way for independent artists to get your attention and be considered for placements? Yvette: We highly recommend reaching out to independent licensing companies and production music libraries. Our job consists of listening to music for specific projects which often leaves us little time to pore through the hundreds of emails we get everyday from folks pitching unsolicited material. The libraries and licensing companies vet music before pitching to us which is very helpful. We recommend checking out our website for a list of music libraries and indie licensing companies that we work with. Michelle: For independent artists, the best way to reach us is through working with music libraries and independent licensing companies. We get so many unsolicited music submissions every day it is impossible to listen to everyone. We generally discover new artists while looking for a specific genre of music for one of our projects. Quinn: Music supervision seems to be an interesting combination of legal/financial work—getting rights cleared and finding songs within your budget—and artistically placing a song based on its relevance in a scene. How would you say you divide your time between the two? Michelle: It’s hard to say, really. When searching for the right song for a scene, I’m always mindful of the budget we have to work with and the timeline we have to clear the song - that’s as present in my mind as the artistically “right” choice. Quinn: What resources do you use to discover new music? Yvette: Music blogs and our music colleagues, who pitch us music on a regular basis. Michelle: I constantly read various music blogs. I also spend a lot of time listening to music pitched by our very talented music licensing colleagues. Quinn: With shows like Breaking Bad and The Walking Dead getting so much attention for their music placements, do you see music supervision becoming more and more important in the future? Yvette: We certainly hope so. Quinn: Since the end of Breaking Bad, I’ve seen a lot of articles debating “Breaking Bad’s best musical moments.” What are your personal favorites? Yvette: I still think that Los Zafiros’ “He Venido” was such a beautiful song for a poignant moment in season 3. Walt and Jesse lose a member of their team, and you really get a sense of how important that vehicle was to them at the time. There are so many though. Michelle: I have a couple: In season 5A, I loved the montage to Tommy James and The Shondell’s “Crystal Blue Persuasion” - it just flows so beautifully. In season 4, I loved the use of Fever Ray’s “If I Had A Heart”. It was the scene when Jesse was driving go-karts on the the indoor track and just about at his breaking point after killing Gayle and picking up drugs again. He goes home to the never ending party at his house. He’s just oblivious to the chaos around him.


Different colors made of tears by olivia cellamare

Your hero is the one who makes you feel alright in your own skin. The one who makes you feel a bit tough as you walk down the street listening to their music. They started a movement you wish you were part of, but when you listen to their music you are right there with them. When Lou Reed died a couple of weeks ago, I was heartbroken. It was something I didn’t expect and immediately thought was some kind of sick joke. Slowly tributes were emerging and the same awful feeling I had stirring inside of me was evident in others. I didn’t feel alone or foolish for feeling upset about Lou Reed departing this life, and into another. Lou Reed transported you into a dark world where you felt comfortable existing. Nothing mattered; your race, religion, sexuality- nothing mattered. It never should. If you felt uncomfortable and unsure, his words were a guide on how to stick two fingers to what is expected of you and to just carry on in your own way. I remember last year finding a copy of Transformer (vinyl) for £2


and I took it home; it stayed on repeat. I played it when I got ready for work, I played it when I got home, I fell asleep to it- it was like a heartbeat. Comforting and essential. Transformer holds a lot of meaning to me, and to finally have it on vinyl felt like winning the lottery to me. I’ve stayed up until unholy o’clock trying to sort myself out to “Pale Blue Eyes,” I’ve accepted myself to “Candy Says;” I’ve felt like an outsider whilst listening to “Vicious.” Lou Reed made me feel tough when really, I was the opposite. He backed the outsider more than anyone else and made you hungry for knowledge and knowing there was always something more. He found the answers you were looking for as you struggled with your own identity. The other night I read Emily Haines’ tribute to Lou and I sobbed like a baby. A few days later I read his wife’s (Laurie) tribute to him taken from Rolling Stone magazine. If anyone is struggling with what the meaning of true love is, then please read her words and carry them with you. Her words as sad as they were, they made you smile because of how pure they were. Most words I have read about Lou have been filled with love and respect. In life he was loved and respected. In death he is remembered and the music lives on. I remember gazing at a photo of him on my uncle’s wall when I was very young and just staring at it. I didn’t know who he was at the time. I didn’t know he’d become someone who I owe a lot to; I was just fixated on this photo that seemed to sum up a movement in music that I was too young to have been part of you, but ended up clinging onto it to drag myself through my teenage years to whatever I am now. There are so many things I could say about Lou and his music. If only words could wake up the dead from their eternal slumber for one more lullaby so we could say the things time didn’t allow us to do so. We think of musicians of being superhuman and will live forever. The thing is, they do. The music they created will outlive us all and continue to be bigger than anyone could ever imagine. Lou Reed was the one whose music I played on long tube journeys, not really caring for where I was going but I was headed with the 70s in mind and his words scattered around my heart. Be lost soul, be an outsider, be yourself. I’ve watched interviews with Lou Reed and I admired how difficult he was because silly journalists just kept on asking the same questions. It’d annoy the most patient person. His music has influenced a lot of the bands I listen to and will continue to influence many more. We’re all in debt to him, we’ve always known it. As Lou heads into the kingdom, we’re all trying to figure out what to do next. So dress in all black, put on your (fake) leather jacket and turn your back on conventional means. I never really thought I’d be writing about Lou in past tense, it just doesn’t feel right. In love and darkness, his music will carry on. He will be there carrying us all through life. Thank you for the music Lou and for teaching me the ways of self-acceptance.


22 Congrats to Le Sigh on their first zine release with Birdtapes! (photos by jeanette wall and andi wilson)

Le Sigh Zine Release // Silent Barn, Brooklyn, NY // 11-17-13

frankie cosmos

baby mollusk ladies of le sigh

whatever, dad

lizard kisses

will smith’s make out playlist by william smith

I have personally made out to all of these tracks. They have proven to be successful in my sexcapades. If your partner has a problem with any of these, tell ‘em to get lost. “Hello, It’s Me” - Todd Rundgren // A good way to start out the evening. Pretty un-offensive. Mellow, catchy electric organ riffs usually put me in the mood. “Can’t Hear My Eyes” - Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffit // Do not kiss your partner yet. This track will either scare your partner away, or take things to the next level. “I’ll Come Back 4 U” - Unknown Mortal Orchestra // I don’t what it is about this song, but it turns me on. The chorus sneaks up and presents itself as one of the catchiest riffs you’ve ever heard. You have two minutes and fifty-nine seconds to make the first move. If you don’t make a move during this song, you’ve ruined the whole flow of this makeout playlist. “Bubble Pop Electric” - Gwen Stefani // It’s slightly unfair for me to add this song to the playlist. I have a deep love for Gwen Stefani and I need to makeout with her. This song is pretty sexual. It’s all about her having sex in the back of a car with her boyfriend. So if you are making out in the back of the car, this track should keep things going. “Like Glue” - Sean Paul // This one speaks for itself. Making out to this track is one of my fondest memories. Hopefully it works for you too. “Prototype” - OutKast // This is a good one. Things should be picking up by now with you and your partner. This track will act as a safety net for the sexual tension to fall on if either of you were turned off by “Like Glue”. Make sure you have the album version of this track. The music video has some dialogue in the intro that will kill the mood. You’re welcome. “So Insane” - Discovery // This is a little more up-beat, but just as sexy as the previous tracks. The chorus breaks down to a slower tempo and that should keep you aroused. Really catchy ending that just screams “MORE TOUNGE”. You might have the urge to get up, hide your boner, and dance. But do not. Stay in the zone, focus, and let this song lead you to some hand stuff. “Poetic Justice” - Kendrick Lamar // Okay this is the closer. I had to stop myself from using two Kendrick Lamar tracks. This song is really sexy. Drake has a great verse on this. If all is going well, this one should seal the deal. I truly hope these songs yield the same results as they did for me. I’ll personally tryout this playlist to see how it goes. I suggest trying this playlist with someone new. I think that would be more exciting. You got nothing to lose. Good luck.


BECAUSE I WAS IN LOVE by cassandra baim

Last week I was having dinner with a boy I most definitely have developed a case of The Feels for. A track from Kanye West’s My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy is playing really loudly and I laughed to myself. “Good lord, this song sounds like being 19.” He asked why. I said “I listened to a lot of Kanye when I was 19. A boy I really liked was into hip-hop. And I really wanted him to like me.” He laughed, which I hope means he found that endearing because it wasn’t until I said those words out loud that I realized how absurd it sounded. I didn’t pursue the subject, but as I walked home from the train later that night I found myself deep in thought about what we make ourselves do for the people we want. A friend told me recently that I get too caught up in things. That caught me off guard. I scoffed and sputtered “No, I don’t!” enough times that I almost believed it too. He was referencing a specific situation, but I thought back to every time I pined after a boy, and the hoops I jumped through to get him to notice me. Some of it was definitely for the better—I started listening to The Decemberists the summer of 2007 because the boy I liked once mentioned going to their concert. He started dating my best friend later that summer and broke up with her two years later but my love for that band will never die. Some of it was for the worst—I’ll never forget that trip to Target when I was 12 and made my mom buy me a Sum 41 album because the very first boy I ever had a crush on listened to them. And this isn’t even touching on all of the TV shows I watched (I put myself through six seasons of Dexter because a boy I once made out with posted a Facebook status about an episode) and books I read (an old crush is the reason I started reading Murakami) for the very same reasons. Every time I did something like that, I would vehemently deny the reason. I thought the idea of bending over backwards for a boy was absurd, and I would never admit that I too was willing to change myself to impress another. I would even laugh at friends who did. Kanye West is damn near unlistenable for me now. It’s not that I don’t enjoy his music. I over-played his albums, and now any mention of his work makes me feel like I’m that age again—stupidly pining for something that would never and should never happen. Because really, time and time again I would alter my interests to impress another and I had nothing to show for it but a vast and impressive music collection. I like to think maybe I’ve had that same effect on someone else. Maybe there’s someone out there who now adores


Andrew Bird or Belle & Sebastian because they wanted to get closer to me. But would that make me fall for them? “ I don’t know, shared interest doesn’t equal attraction. Aha, that’s the kicker! I wish I’d known that when I was a teenager. I seek solace in knowing I’m not the only one who thought that way. I felt a lot of vindication four years ago watching that one moment in 500 Days of Summer when Joseph Gordon-Levitt’s character plays The Smiths loud enough for Zooey Deschanel to hear it. And then when I did something similar really recently, I tried not to feel as stupid as I probably looked. I took a poll, asking friends and coworkers and people I hardly knew how their tastes have been shaped by attraction. “The Smiths, dear gawd I can never listen to them again.” “I have a very hard time listening to Ellis Paul after my fiancée left two years ago.” “One girl I dated years ago was very shy, so I asked her friend what kind of music my crush liked, who told me she was into Hot Hot Heat. I didn’t really like them then, nor do I now but listening to them evokes some very teenage feelings. The funny thing is, that girl wasn’t really into them either.” “I forced myself to see John Mayer after a significant other bought tickets and it was the lowest point in my life.” Much like my own experience with rap, a lot of my friends said there are so many artists they can’t listen to either because of association. Whether it’s a reminder of a bad breakup or a rejection, we don’t want to put ourselves through reliving that time. I already wrote about songs I can’t listen to anymore because they’re tied to very specific events. Now I can’t listen to certain bands because they remind me of turning into a type of person I shouldn’t want to be. I’m still very interested in the hell we put ourselves through just to get noticed. If you haven’t already, please let me know. No boy (or girl) is worth ruining some music over, but goodness knows we’re only human, and all we want is to be noticed.



musical memoriEs by colleen bidwill

If there’s one thing I’m not is quiet. But, nothing can get me to quiet down more than putting my headphones in, turning the volume up as high as it goes, and as the notes begin to trickle, just letting the lyrics overwhelm me. Music more than anything has the ability to pull you back into a certain time. Pictures may reveal like your outfits or hairdos (some you wish you could take back) or whether your smile was genuine or not. But, music can fully express how you felt in the moment. Like how exciting and terrifying the unknown was when you locked eyes with a random albeit cute stranger across that coffee shop, when you looked up from your computer screen. Or when you close your eyes at a packed club, swaying to the beats, with some of your closest friends right beside you. When those lyrics express exactly the words you couldn’t form together, a puzzle where the pieces weren’t so easy to locate. The dripping notes in the background when you pressed your lips against that now former stranger. It can symbolize a time where you were blissfully happy in the companionship of family, friends or someone special. Or it can recall a day where nothing seemed to go your way. Music can heal our souls. This connection can tell us the words we need to hear, cure us from ourselves or those rough times that knock us down and give us the best words to tell another person how we feel on that burned mix tape. And forever, that song will be a reminder of that day, that moment, that minute. You can’t ever listen to that song without thinking about it. Here are four of mine. “Gone” – The Head and the Heart // It has only been a few hours since I had heard about Steven dying. My eyes had already begun hurting from the seemingly constant tears. As I went through The Head and the Heart’s sophomore album “Let’s Be Still,” this haunting song became one on repeat. As it crooned, “gone,” I found my tears falling again down my face, a reminder of what I just tried to suppress. He was gone at 19 years old. I, nor anyone else, would see him again. “Glad You Came” – The Wanted // In a car filled with some of my closest friends, we began drowning out the upbeat song with our loud, obnoxious singing. With a huge smile plastered onto my face, I looked out the car’s window, while we crossed the Golden Gate Bridge. The sun reflected across the water, a view that I could never get sick of. It was Spring Break in a city I loved with people I loved. And in that moment, it was pure happiness. “Stronger” – Britney Spears // I’d spent some time sitting outside on a porch at my college radio station’s launch party. My friend next to me needed to vent about some boy troubles, and so I patiently sat and listened. But combined with the dreary rain in front of me, it put both of us in an off mood. Later, we joined a group of friends to go back inside when this song came on someone’s iPod. With a small, intimate group of people, we bounced up and down, and dramatically sang along. As the song progressed, so did our moods. It led to going home and having a dance party in the middle of my apartment. “Home” – Phillip Phillips // I don’t think anything can describe my last summer more than this song. Many late nights, my boyfriend would drive me back home, and this song would come across the radio. He would put his hand lovingly on my leg, or hold my hand and place it on the stick shift as he drove. Sometimes, I’d ramble about the latest thought in my head. Sometimes, I put my head on his shoulder. And sometimes, I’d just sing along to the song. It’s simple, but when I think about him and I, all I think about are little moments.


jojo gives his two cents by rafael grafals

I’ve been babysitting my friend’s nephew for a couple months now. He’s a two year old named Joseph (though we’ll call him Jojo for short and because it’s just cuter) and he’s already formed a pretty strong love for music. Early on, when I first started babysitting him, Jeanette sent me a SoundCloud link which I decided to play in front of him and he was really into what he was hearing. He started dancing and shaking around. It was really interesting to see that sort of reaction knowing he’s pretty picky with what he listens to. The song finished up and he quickly requested I play it again and so we listened to that track maybe three times before he was through with it. Inspired by that story, when I was trying to think of something to write about for this issue of The Miscreant, Jeanette recommended I make a short playlist, mostly DIY focused with some older tracks thrown in, and write about his reactions to each track. Here’s how that all went down. “I Like To Move It Move It (Madagascar Soundtrack Version)” // This was really only played to get Jojo pumped for the rest of the music. I was already aware that he loved this song however when I started playing it he made it pretty clear just how much he loved it. As soon as it started playing his face lit up and he started shaking around in his seat. He tried his best to sing along though what came out of his mouth was mostly mumbles. Jojo waved his arms around to the beat (to the best of his abilities) and at multiple times grabbed my ears, probably to make me appreciate the beauty of the song I was playing for him. I didn’t really hear it but whatever at least he enjoyed it. “Lizzy Come Back To Life” - TV Girl // Following the Madagascar song I asked him if he wanted to hear something else. With an excited face he quickly answered, “Yes!” and I pulled up TV Girl’s “Lizzy Come Back To Life”. Apparently this wasn’t exactly Jojo’s cup of tea because as soon as the beat came in his face shifted from really excited to really disappointed. I noticed he didn’t seem particularly keen on this one so I figured I’d go ahead and ask him his feelings about it. “I don’t like this one. Too loud.” Lowering the volume unfortunately didn’t do anything to change his opinion on that. At one point he caught a glimpse of the cover art and asked what was on it. When I answered that it was a woman he gave me a really confused look and asked, “A woman?!” I’m not exactly sure what this means but I figured I’d include it. “Say That” - Toro Y Moi // Seeing as Jojo wasn’t too happy with TV Girl I was curious if he’d be digging Toro Y Moi but the results seemed to flip 180. He was really enjoying the song and,


seeing as I played it through YouTube, very impressed with the music video too. This did, however, become more about the video than the song. Probably the most common question I heard throughout the duration of the video was, “What is that?” The ‘that’s he asked about were mostly shots of fields, trees, bushes, grass, etc. so I’m not really sure why he was so confused. While Jojo didn’t really understand what was going on he loved the way the video looked. Perhaps my favorite exchange while watching it was: “Is that a person?” “Yeah, he’s dancing.” “He’s dancing with the trees??” “Haha, he’s dancing around the trees, yeah” After the video ended I asked him if he enjoyed the song. He responded with a super excited, “Yeah!” “Teen Dream” - The Bilinda Butchers // I’m not a mind reader but when I played “Teen Dream” for Jojo his face indicated that he was pretty pleasantly surprised. As soon as the opening percussions shifted out of focus in favor of those bouncy guitars and synths a huge grin grew on his face. He nodded his head along to the song and just seemed really excited about what he was hearing. Again, he took a peak at the album art but was really concerned with why the girl on the cover was covering her face. Beats me. Telling him I wasn’t sure why she was covering her face didn’t exactly stop him from asking me about it multiple times. Either way, it was pretty great seeing him have such a positive reaction to that song. Apparently he agrees that it’s really good and “really pretty.” Good work, The Bilinda Butchers. “Bodega Run” - Crying // The smile on Jojo’s face quickly faded to confusion as I followed up “Teen Dream” with Crying’s “Bodega Run”. I think it was the chiptune that threw him off but as soon as the guitars faded in and the drums kicked into place Jojo was dancing and scooting around in his seat. This was the only time he danced since I started with that Madagascar song and it was obvious he was loving what he heard. At one point Jojo threw his fists into the air and shook them around with the biggest smile I’ve seen on his face since I first started babysitting him. At the end of the song Jojo actually requested I play it for him a second time but I was sort of running low on time and wanted to get through as many songs as possible. Regardless, I know something I can play for him now that will get him in a good mood. “Twist and Shout” - The Beatles // Perhaps the song with the most interesting reaction, I played a live performance of “Twist and Shout” on YouTube and the moment the Beatles appeared on screen Jojo looked at me and said, “No. No Beatles.” I asked him if he wanted me to turn the video off but then he sort of zoned out watching it with the strangest look on his face. The entire song played through without Jojo showing a single emotion and when the video ended I asked him if he liked it. “Yeah, I like it.” “Why do you like it?” “I like The Beatles.” I’m still not entirely sure what to gather from that one but it was entertaining either way. Unfortunately, at this point Jojo didn’t want to hear any more music and requested I play him some cartoons.


Lillix: Never forget by bella mazzetti

When you get drunk with your friends, there is usually a point where someone likes to turn on the 90’s and early 2000’s pop hits so that you can all sing them together, bonding in your inebriation. It was only two weeks ago, after being reintroduced by a friend (hey, Jeanette), when it was my turn to search youtube for ‘lol funny’ pop music that i decided to put on It’s “About Time” by Lillix. Half of us, after remembering that the song and band existed, burst out in song while grabbing each other in pure elation. The other half took a long time to even remember who these women were. These angst filled ‘teens’ were together known as Lillix, aka one of the few good things Canada has ever given to us. Their hits included songs like “It’s About Time” and “Tomorrow.” Possibly their most well known song was a cover of “What I Like About You” by The Romantics, used for Disney’s Freaky Friday remake with Lindsay Lohan and goddess Jamie Lee Curtis. Post Freaky Friday fame (2003, duh!), not much was known about Lillix. They released another album in 2006, but it never got any airplay or much attention. In 2010 they released an album called Tigerlily, which got some positive reviews. From the looks of the “Nowhere to Run” music video, there are only two original members left. The song is super catchy. On October 22nd of this year, the band tweeted that it was their 16th anniversary. You go Lillix. Basically, I just don’t want you to forget that they exist. Please fight the good fight, play Lillix songs at parties, and sing your lil butts off.


WANT MORE MISCREANT? Dearest Miscreants, I’m elated to have Eugene Mirman on the cover of the zine. Comedy is something I started to learn about around the same time I started to learn about music. There was a pretty broad selection of stand up albums right next to the music CDs in my public library in Greenwood. With every Cat Power record I got, I’d also try and find an album by a comedian I had heard of, like Jerry Seinfeld or Brian Regan. Living in New York now, it’s amazing to watch the comedy I love so often meeting with the music I love as well. It’s like when Ted Leo covered my favorite Bruce Springsteen song at Kurt Braunholer’s record release. Though the two artforms have often gone hand-in-hand in the past, it’s cool to see how music has impacted comedians now (Marc Maron’s new bit on Beefheart) and vice versa (Evan Dando performing comedy). It was great of Eugene to give his perspective on how music and comedy connect. Also, many thanks to everyone who submitted to this issue! It’s really exciting to learn about everyone’s personal experiences with music and memories. As the year comes to a close, I guess we’re even more reclined to reflect. As always, the submissions make me very excited to see what comes in next time. You all are the best. Now we’re gearing up for issue 47, the last issue of the zine in 2013. Submissions for the zine are due December 13. No previous writing experience is required. Send in your lists of favorite album covers, an interview with your local DIY venue manager, your family’s tranditional holiday playlist, anything to do with music. Send in your submissions by the deadline to Jeanette at Also send questions you might have about getting involved with the Miscreant! Also, look to and the Miscreant Facebook for more info on the music you read about here and more! Check out the Miscreant video series Sad Kids Club at And remember to read and enjoy all of the back issues of the Miscreant at All my love, The Miscreant

The Miscreant - Issue 46  

Featuring Eugene Mirman!

The Miscreant - Issue 46  

Featuring Eugene Mirman!