The first single off our album, Batty Fang is a song called Beast. We made our first high budget art film to celebrate its release. In it, Jonathon gets impaled by a shard of glass.
Jenkem Magazine put out it's first compilation record of music made by skaters, and we are honored to be included. You can purchase the limited edition vinyl from their website or buy it on iTunes, or stream it on Spotify. The peeps at Jenkem are the best dudes and their website has some great content. Many thanks to them. And many thanks to Isaac Jaeggi for putting us in touch with them!
NPR said some nice things about our video submission to their Tiny Desk Contest. Also, check out the winners, Tank and the Bangas -- they're amazing!
We recorded this video for one of our new songs for NPR's Tiny Desk Contest. We were kindly allowed to film in Owlet Blasting's wood shop, where there is indeed a desk. Also a fire extinguisher. Table saw. Jointer/Planer. Lots of tools.
We wrote a song called Broken Wrist. And then Lisa broke her wrist.
Also, we made this quick and greasy video of our song Long Run, set to footage of one of the greatest fights of all time. Not actually. But Ali is fun to watch no matter what. Enjoy!
Working on new demo recordings!
we have all been brothers, hermaphroditic as oysters
bestowing our pearls carelessly
no one yet had invented ownership
nor guilt nor time
we watched the seasons pass, we were as crystalline
and melted gently into newer forms
as stars spun round our heads
we had not learned betrayal
our selves were pearls
irritants transmuted into luster
and offered carelessly
our pearls became more precious and our sexes static
mutability grew a shell, we devised different languages
new words for new concepts, we invented alarm clocks
still...even now...making a feint at communion
we have all been brothers
and offer carelessly
Enlightenment Poem by Lenore Kandel
My mom turns 60 today, and I wanted to take the time to write down what the 29-years she has spent with me have meant in shaping who I am. Many women reach a point in their lives when they realized that they've become their mothers. For me, that moment comes with a joy and thankfulness of having someone so talented, fearless and remarkable to emulate. Just some of what I've learned from her...
Travel the world while you're young.
Believe that everything can be art, and anything can be transformed into something extraordinary with creativity and imagination.
Be mindful of what you can offer to the world. Don't give up trying to make something that matters.
Be compassionate to all living things.
Learn new instruments. Make up your own music.
Be able to grow things, catch things, and cook and eat those things.
Don't worry so much about what other people think. And always buy your clothes secondhand.
Don't follow recipes. Trust that you can make anything taste good with a few magic ingredients.
Go to bed early. Wake up early.
Make your own cards. And always send thank you cards.
Stand up for what you believe in and for people weaker than you.
Take home improvements into your own hands.
Have an eye for color.
Don't become too attached to money or material possessions. And value people over both.
...and so much more. Thanks, Mom and Happy Birthday!!!
“I wish I could do whatever I liked behind the curtain of 'madness'. Then: I’d arrange flowers, all day long, I’d paint; pain, love and tenderness, I would laugh as much as I feel like at the stupidity of others, and they would all say: 'Poor thing, she’s crazy!' (Above all I would laugh at my own stupidity.) I would build my world which while I lived, would be in agreement with all the worlds. The day, or the hour, or the minute that I lived would be mine and everyone else’s - my madness would not be an escape from 'reality'.” -Frida Kahlo
Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back. Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation), there is one elementary truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one's favor all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamed would have come his way. Whatever you can do, or dream you can do, begin it. Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it. Begin it now.
-William Hutchinson Murray (1913-1996), from his 1951 book entitled The Scottish Himalayan Expedition
I've spent a lot of time on my father's laptop recently, compelled to piece together the bits of ideas, writings and journals he kept there with the story of the man I knew. I found a document with this quote saved in it, which in many ways captured what I admired most about my father. In a world where many of us doubt, hesitate and grow stagnant in our lives, he never wasted a moment in taking necessary leaps of faith.
For the first time in my life I have felt death's real presence. Witnessing my father's sudden passing has made me realize that we cannot plan our lives according to some assumed lifespan. We cannot waste precious time believing we are trapped in certain situations, longing for lives that could have been. Certainly, we have responsibilities, but too often we create false masters and become slaves with invisible shackles, heavy with our own delusions of the difficulties involved in breaking free. My father took bold steps in making his way from carpenter to non-profit founder, a journey that profoundly touched hundreds, if not thousands of people along the way. In this, he was able to do more in 60 years than some do in many lifetimes. I am grateful to have his example--I hope to keep it with me so that when death comes for me I can say, "I did not hold myself back, I blossomed with all the splendor I could muster." That is the only way anyone can be prepared to die, because it will always seem to come too soon.
We all struggle with the idea of destiny and wrestle with how to live best to fulfill some notion of a life's purpose. My father was fond of Howard Thurman's idea of how to navigate the existential path, "Don't ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive." When you think of life in these terms it seems simple. A question of what challenges you, energizes your spirit, causes you to slip into the natural track of what your being was meant to do, what brings you joy and in turn has some lasting effect on the world and others.
There are plenty of things I enjoy doing, but I know that music does something different. At times while playing, I experience a transcendence that in its moment is the closest I get to oneness. I feel an overwhelming joy in being struck with the insight of writing a new song. I become connected with other people in ways that I don't imagine I could achieve doing anything else. I have labored for over a decade to be better in what I do, to be more honest and to make a career out of something that for me holds so much gravity, such aching necessity. In some ways, death's visit has thrown my world into new perspective. In other ways, things remain the same. It feels strange to start a new journey with the same destination I've had for many years. And maybe the destination will change. I can't be sure. But I am most certain that whatever it is it has to be now, the way my father would have done it, fully committed, ready for possible failure but eager to fly.
The EP's album cover goes out to you, Dad.
With love, Lisa.
Yet another group of gorgeous, captivating people. The Tuareg are a nomadic Berber people found mostly in the Saharan interior of North Africa. Traditionally, the women do not wear the veil, whereas the men do. The indigo men's face coverings are believed to ward off evil spirits. The Tuareg are sometimes called "The Blue People" since the indigo pigments of their veils and robes stained their skin dark blue.