January 31st, 2002

full life

(no subject)

Probably the best I can say about today is that the vending machine on my floor has Nutter Butter Bites, which are pretty goddamned tasty. Beyond that, I should've just stayed in bed.
full life

How to make an emo band.

from Pitchfork's archives:

Here's a fun game to play when you're at home alone. I call it "Make Your Own Emo Band." First you'll need a name. Preferably these names begin with the unnecessary use of the definite article. This can be easily coupled with a proper name of a dead historical figure. For example: "The Van Buren." This can also be coupled with a phrase that has become ambiguous due to loss of context, such as "The Did You Tape 'Friends.'" Using climatic nomenclature is another simple trick. This is the easiest way to get on your way to being an emotional band.

Try this one: check the weather page. What day of the week is it? Monday-- good. You can read, which is a must for emotional bands. (Emotional bands read lots of novels and write about them in zines.) Now, what is the weather like? It's overcast with a 40% chance of rain. You can pull three emo band names from this alone. Did you come up with "The Monday Rain," "The Forty Percent Chance," and "Always Overcast?" Calendar terms make for great emotional names. Some of my made- up favorites are "Source of September," "The Jenny in July," and "Snowfall in Summer."

Hopefully, you now have an emotional band name. You are on the way to becoming an emotional melodic hardcore band! Next you'll need an overcompensating drummer. Find a girl who keep brushing her bob behind her ears while saying, "Oh my god! That guy is such an awesome drummer!" You'll likely find this girl in a coffee shop that serves vegan burritos. This drummer should use lots of crash cymbal and rambling fills. Remember, you'll be changing time signatures frequently, but don't worry too much about this. The very fact that you're changing time signatures, regardless of skill, will impress the kids.

Now to find a singer. He doesn't necessarily have to be able to carry a tune. Actually, it's more endearing when he throws his voice out. Girls call this "cute." Lisps? Perfect! Ideally, the singer's name should be something like "Davey" or "Jonathan" or "Jeremy" or "Matthew." "Stu," "Ralph" and "Barney" are not acceptable.

It is now time to write songs. Don't be afraid-- it's not as hard as it sounds. Two guitars will be needed. One guitar will spit out octave power chords (if you're following along at home, simply lift the middle finger from the bar chord!) while the other stubbornly picks "melodic" "hooks." In the chorus, the guitars will play the exact same thing at different octaves and start and stop a lot. The bass is nominal, since it won't be heard on the muddy recordings and live mixes.

Now you're ready for lyrics! String together lots of empty phrases about crushes, nostalgia, and traveling, such as: "The winter's fallen memory," "because your shadow is deeper than you think," and "I'm the one who likes to stay up late in the caf�." [Lyrics courtesy of the Jazz June's Breakdance Suburbia]. Listen to Braid's Age of Octeen for hints.

The final step is the album design! Find a design "company" that's actually just one guy. This company must have a name with a number in it, preferably adjacent to a single word involved the air and space industry. "Satellite 10," "Volume 1," and "Apartment 13" are all good examples. Remember to ask for a lot of thin lines and typographical repetition. Bingo, you are now an emotional hardcore band! You will sell exactly 1,235 records, and some schmuck at an online music site will have to sit through it.

-Brent DiCrescenzo's review of Jazz June's "Breakdance Suburbia".
Rating: 3.1