BLEEDER

Philadelphia art and music zine! FKA Sub/Verse. Email submissions to [email protected]. All images by Chloe Graham unless otherwise noted.

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sloppy grrrl blues

you are the old gritty girl i once was

greasy hair don’t care

period blood everywhere. 

i love my body its so much damn fun having a body

lets go up to my room and dance to social d

lets kiss and make dream catchers

im not sure why  im so closed off

when i show so much off

you’re the coolest person i’ve ever met

or thought of 

or dreamt of

the ones thats going to make me interesting 

give me stories to tell

show me your heart

and i’ll show you how to hide it

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remo drive at first unitarian church of philadelphia

ALL PHOTOS BY CHLOE GRAHAM

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ALL PHOTOS BY CHLOE GRAHAM

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Hinds @ First Unitarian Church of Philadelphia 5.8.18

ALL PHOTOS BY CHLOE GRAHAM

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“I Like Weird Complicated Songs”; an Interview with Sadie Dupuis of Speedy Ortiz

Speedy  Ortiz puts the feminine in feminism. Their music is for everyone realizing that feminism isn’t just about women, but examining how attacking femininity is used to pretty much hurt everyone who isn’t wealthy, white, straight and male by birth. And even though talking about oppression is really depressing and often unproductive because of this, Speedy Ortiz is all about what would happen if we put the positivity we talk about all the time into action. Our world could not only be full of interesting discussions and equality, but playful scariness and fairy tale outfits. But Speedy Ortiz’s writing isn’t only valuable in its humor and politics. With a poetry MFA as their lead singer-songwriter, Speedy’s lyrics are insightful, hilarious, and achingly true. In Sub/Verse’s latest interview, I talked to singer, musician, and songwriter Sadie Dupuis about horror movies, political art, songwriting, and much more.

How was SXSW?

Sadie: Pretty good, I haven’t been there an insubstantial amount of times before, so I know what to expect. I enjoyed all the shows we played, and got to eat all the food I like. No complaints really. I got to see less shows than in the past. In the past I was running around in between sets trying to see a million different bands, but this year I took it pretty easy. I went to the showcases we played obviously, and I got to see US Girls, and Girl Ray, Kurt Vile. I went to the AdHoc showcase, and the Don Giovanni showcase.

Inspiration for new album?

SD: Its hard to talk about just one inspiration for the new album; its all kind of older songs that were written that we rewrote, ones that were more personal. I think my goals as a writer shifted away from things that are specific to me, and I’ve tried to write more towards not universal themes, because everyone’s coming from this world and country from different places, which is evident from the presidential election. But certainly the song that came out today was about people performing allyship,  but not putting in the work to help their friends, and putting a burden on them. In the album we explored a lot of big issues with a light touch, because it can be exhausting looking at the news everyday, with practical ways to not lose your mind while you try to make the world a better place.

On the topic of allyship and consent, how do you think you promote and talk about these ideas at your shows and through your work?

SD: Talking about these issues is one way to help people  understand them more. Certainly Speedy Ortiz has tried to do a lot on those roads. We started a hotline a few years ago for people who are feeling unsafe at our shows. Whats been even more effective is passing out information on bystander intervention and de-escalation tactics on print outs at our shows, so that someone who’s just coming by the merch table can read about how to intervene if you see something going on at a show that seems unsafe. We are trying to foster the idea of people taking care of each other, and looking at not only their music scenes but their lives, like, how they can best help their neighbors and friends. I also believe inclusivity is paramount to safety, so we make sure we hire a diverse crew. These are the issues we are all thinking about, not just musicians, so I think it made sense that these ideas bled into the record.

What inspired the song and video “Lucky 88”?

SD: Well you mentioned that I lived in Austin. I took my mom to Austin for Christmas a few years ago. We spent a week in Texas, mostly in Austin but we also went to Houston. We went to the Cy Twombly gallery and it was the day before Christmas eve, and being in Austin which is a very liberal city but also being in Texas with a lot of conservatism, I felt pretty weird, especially with the president we were about to innaugurate. And I was looking at one of his sculptures called Untitled 1988, 1988 being the year I was born, and all of the horrible things that had happened since then and the things I didn’t know about. I ran outside and just started singing the song into my phone! Its about how the generation before me kind of left this world gutted and ruined but also about younger people keeping a watchful eye and working to make things better, and how inspiring those people are to me.

What do get out of Speedy Ortiz and your more solo work with Sad13, individually?

SD: Speedy started as a solo project, and I really enjoyed the outlet of home recording, and working as a solo musician. But then when we started playing as a band, I really grew to love that, and I don’t really like performing solo. We developed a language and a way for working out these songs together. I wouldn’t trade that for anything, but I like having both options, where I can go in my basement for eight hours, and post something on Soundcloud and its done, vs Speedy Ortiz where I want to make sure its something we all feel good about. Even though I write the songs, we work them out as a group.

I noticed a lot of horror movie and monster visuals in your music videos; are those big inspirations?

SD: We can’t help ourselves, we love horror movies! With most of the songs there are big themes, but we try to approach them with levity. I think a more literal video would be too heavy handed. Daryl our bassist went to film school, and our drummer Mike is really interested in film, always archiving old film stuff. They always have a really strong aesthetic plan for what the videos should be. I like doing that stuff too, but its cool that we can all come together on that and do something creative.

What are some of your favorite movies?

SD: As you might have guessed, I really like horror movies! Scream is my favorite series of movies. I’m coming at it from a pop horror/horror comedy background. I think my bandmates have a more refined taste in movies. I actually think I saw all of the Oscar nominated movies from last year, which is pretty rare. I really liked Moonlight from last year, and I saw I, Tonya which was really good too. I like horror, comedy, even really serious political commentary movies…

I used to have a job at a video store, which was like the best job I ever had, and there was a deal for video clerks where you could see any movie at a theater for free. I don’t  care if a movie’s bad, I just feel like its the most decadent and luxurious experience, being in a movie theater.

What do you do on tour, entertainment/reading/movies wise?

SD: What am I reading… last year in Glasgow I got a bunch of stuff from this place called Good Press, that published a lot of short run poetry, really small press academic stuff, essays, stuff like that. All the books are shrink wrapped, so you just have to trust that whatever you got is good. I was cleaning out my basement and found them in a record box so I’ve just been working my way through that stuff. Its all prose poetry and very experimental, stuff like that.

Do you think getting a poetry MFA helps your songwriting?

SD: I think honing any of your artistic sensibilities helps the others, in the way that so many musicians I know are really great visual artists. I think having an artistic practice, even if its outside your field, is bound to have an impact on your other creative work. I think it might be a detriment to my career because some of the things people really like about songwriting are things that are easy to remember or easy to sing along to, things that repeat, whereas, with my background in poetry, I’m always trying to think of the most not necessarily the most accessible  way to say something, and I definitely don’t repeat things much. So its bad for my pop song writing, and good for the weirdos who like weird complicated songs.

What were you into in high school, especially music? Any guilty pleasure stuff?

SD: Let me think, its been a while, I’m old now… I still like a lot of the stuff I listened to then, I started listening to New Pornographers again. A lot of Matador bands, like Helium and Pavement, and I’m really lucky that I’m friends with some of them now.

You have a really cool way of dressing on stage. How does that work/contribute to your music and performance?

SD: Aw thanks! I try. I played in bands since high school and I was used to being the only woman on stage or on tour, and I kinda got accustomed to this falsely masculine aesthetic, and I would just dress like the boys. Thats still kind of how I dress at home, jeans and a flannel. But at some point, the lack of femininity that I started to feel that if you were going to make rock music you had to fit into the male aesthetic, and that seemed like bullshit to me. I wanted people in the audience to not think they had to wear a man costume in order to play technical guitar music. So I started dressing like a fairy princess that can also shred! Its been a few years of that, with some slightly more elaborate costuming. When I see people in a bright or interesting outfit, it makes me happy to see something beautiful. I want to do that for other people, if their having a shitty day so they can have something cool to look at.

I know it might be goofy to go way back two albums ago, but I wanted to ask you about the title of your album two albums ago, Major Arcana.

SD: Tarot cards were really interesting to me back then. Its basically a breakup record, but I didn’t want to just write about that. I’ve always been interested in magic, and magic as an alternate religion, and witches and witchcraft in general. All of the songs were kind of through the lens of me being a witch and the songs are kind of like incantatory spells, and tarot was one of the lenses I used to find meaning at that time. My dad was Jewish and my mom was Catholic, and I had some education in both, but I’ve never been very religious but have always been interested in magical practices.

You’ve lived in a lot of places; Philly right now, Massachusetts, Austin. How have those places contributed and/or helped your writing.

SD: I think where you live affects you, and who you are affects what you write. I don’t know if its as direct as me moving to Philly made me write like a Philadelphian, but the reasons I moved to those different places was loving the bands and scenes at those times. In  a lot of my early Speedy work from those times I would put little easter eggs in songs to say, oh, this riff is from Pile or whatever. To a certain extent I still do that. There are so many bands in Philly I love, like Palm, Japanese Breakfast… I think anywhere you live, as a music fan, you’re going to internalize that. But at the same time I feel like I could go out in the middle of nowhere and still write songs.

INTERVIEW AND ILLUSTRATION BY CHLOE GRAHAM

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Caroline Rose at Main Street Music!

ALL PHOTOS BY CHLOE GRAHAM

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Caroline Rose at Main Street Music! Part 1

ALL PHOTOS BY CHLOE GRAHAM! USE WITH PERMISSION AND CREDIT OR FOREVER BE CURSED (i actually know a witch)

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“I’m Compelled To Do It”; an Interview w/Lisa Jane Persky, Photographer, Writer, and Artist

In high school I was going to move to New York and grab the city by its throat. I was going to have at least 500 friends, own a punky couture boutique, and hold gothic open mics there every night and maybe date a Stroke for a few months. My imagination was like an entire universe of different identities, with tiny planets for NYC, Paris, 90s Seattle, 20s Greenwich Village. My favorite magazine was Pitchfork Review, and when I read Lisa Jane Persky’s piece, “X Offenders: A Typical Day in the Life of an NYC Proto Punk”, I got really jealous of her and then I got over that and wanted to know more. So I sent her a pouring my heart out email about how boring my neighborhood was, and how her story gave me hope for my own “New York story.” Sappy, right? Also, it was likely the truest thing I had ever written, before or since. As an over emotional messy artist, I’ve learned that the only way for me to get anything done is to rip open my heart and be as (healthily!) vulnerable as I can. In my experience, this has led me to knit a sweater for my favorite lead singer (Luke of the Walters) throw pads at Mario of the Orwells, and interview one of the coolest people I know.

Hi Lisa! How are you?

Lisa Jane Persky: I’m fine, just doing so many things at once! How are you?

I’m good! What are you working on right now?

LJP: I’m going to do a ten-day residency in London in June with my friends at Underground, a subculture inspired brand that makes some cool favorite stuff of mine. We found each other in 2015 and have been plotting something to do together ever since. June is Music Month in the UK and the residency will first of all be a show of my early photography, mostly of the Blondie days, and CBGB's time, really early, like 74-75. Along with that I’m programming various events, so different artists will come, DJs, musicians, underground comic book illustrators, all along the lines of subculture and music.

What made you want to photograph Blondie, since you were already familiar with them as friends?

LJP: Mostly it was access to a camera! I had a camera my dad used to use, and the band was just so cool looking, and I was going out with Gary Valentine at the time. Chris and Debbie were living in my friends loft, which is now known as the Blondie loft on the Bowery, where the band also rehearsed, and up there on the fourth floor was a big, torn white backdrop for portraits. It all started with an *official* session where I took 5 rolls of film in the loft, and those were pretty cool so I just kept going.

What is a good picture to you?

LJP: I like looking at people, studying them and observing what they do. When I shoot portraits we create an atmosphere together. I try to make a comfortable space for the subject to play, to be who they are with me, in spite of my lens I really enjoy seeing that, and the collaboration of it. It has to mean

something to me and I try to frame in the camera, and not edit it later. My eyes really were the frame then. Everyone looks so beautiful, was so young. When you’re young, you think, “we’re all so that!” And they were. Debbie’s a beautiful woman. She makes a picture look good, without much effort. I’m all

about making Instagram a place for my work right now. I like the shooting for that square shape. I love seeing other people’s photography evolve there.

Who were some of your other musical subjects?

LJP: I photographed Martin Rev of Suicide, I did a series on keyboard players, Cherry Vanilla’s, Zecca, and Richard Sohl, Patti Smith’s keyboard player, Kristian Hoffman of the Mumps, Lance Loud and the other Mumps, The Fast, mostly my friends and mostly portraits. I prefer to see live music rather than photograph it.

Yeah! I photograph shows sometimes and I prefer to ask to take pictures of the band after because I feel like the subject will give me more than when they’re thinking I’m just an anonymous photographer. What motivates you as an artist?

LJP: I’m compelled to do it, I want to do it. That said, writing is harder for me than all the other things I do. I’m not really sure why. I think it’s because there’s a loneliness to it that the others don’t have. Even when I’m out photographing my landscapes, which I call Lonescapes because there are no people in them, I never feel lonely. But there’s some kind of foreboding loneliness in writing that keeps me away from it. But I love having written, which is how most people probably feel.

”The picture of me is a photo booth pic. I’m wearing an Eagle’s Nest T-Shirt. The Eagle’s Nest was a gay hardcore leather bar in the Meatpacking District (no girls allowed) and their symbol was that Eagle on the shirt, which is the eagle that in part inspired Arturo Vega to design the Ramones Eagle. There are all kinds of other stories out there about Arturo's art but he loved America and being in it, had a great sense of humor about its hypocrisies. The Bicentennial was coming up and that was a very big deal in New York City with sailors from the fancy wooden Tall Ships arriving and all. Anyway, I thought you might like to see that and know about it. The Eagle's Nest is now called The Eagle and it has moved uptown from its old location.”

What do you get out of making art?

LJP: The most important thing is what connects me to different people. I like being able to be in the world with others to share stories with people who aren’t necessarily like myself. Each of these things I do connects me to others in different ways. I value that, making and having friends and exploring the world through art and music together more than anything. But I also have no idea what else I’d do. I really don’t.

So the way we met online was through me reading your piece in Pitchfork; what made you want to write that?

LJP: Every year my husband and I go to a conference that highlights music writing of all types, a very eclectic mix of people and papers, and I one year presented a paper on my interview with the Ramones, which I did the day after their first record came out. And then I wanted to write another paper, since everyone had been asking me, “what was it like back then?” And I had read something Tommy Dean (Mills), who owned Max’s at that time in the 70s had said in an interview. He said that all the girls who came to the club with or to see the bands back then were either hookers or groupies. And I read that and it made me really mad, because all of us had been working our tails off, we were not hookers or groupies! Not that there is anything wrong with being a hooker or groupie, it’s just that way he characterized all the women. It said more about him than us but that quote coupled with people asking what it was like, made me decide to write what it was like for me. So I wrote that and presented it at the conference, and used photos I had or had taken or found that went with the text, so people could get a three dimensional look at what a day in the life in downtown New York back then was like.

What was writing for the New York Rocker like?

LJP: Well, that is why I was interested in what you’re doing, because it’s very similar. It was just a bunch of us going to these shows. Early on there was hardly anyone going, just us, the people in the bands and the neighborhood, other artists, our friends and then Alan Betrock. He was older and always a superfan of rock music, especially pop and girl groups. He had a zine before there were zines. I don't know what you'd call them but it was amateur publishing by smart people and he and others like Greg Shaw would

write to each other about records newsletter style sometimes on mimeograph paper because they didn’t even have Xerox machines then and they’d snail-mail it around because it was the only way. So he showed up and we knew he was a kind of force and then it was like “Lets have a newspaper!” and he gave birth to New York Rocker with us as his staff and we wrote about each other and it was much more representative of the downtown music scene in the early '70s than PUNK magazine was. PUNK magazine was great but was its own more specific world.

What do you think was the most interesting thing one of these musicians said to you?

LJP: One of my favorite answers, when I asked the Ramones in July of 1976 what they liked to do when they weren’t making music, they all agreed, and I think it was Johnny who said it, “we like to hang out in stairwells.” And he wasn’t kidding; they liked to hang out in stairwells in Queens. One of the things that was good about being there and these early interviews was you got an idea of who everyone was in an unguarded way except for Patti Smith who always seemed strategic and cautious. It was before anyone else there was famous or known, and no one knew whether they were going to be anyone or not. We were all hanging out with our pants down, there was no hiding going on.

What do you think were punk’s biggest inspirations back then?

LJP: In the beginning, they were all pop bands, really. Everyone really liked pop, and everyone was a fan of real rock n roll, and what we heard on the radio was more like Bread and yacht rock before it was called that, and it didn’t feel like what we grew up with and times were tough and a lot of us were just furious, had a ton of energy that needed an outlet. And then, too, we all liked glam. These things, the pop sensibility, the love of glam and the performative aspects of that and the furious energy was the most visible, in many of the Max's and CBGB'S bands 74-76. In 76 the Sex Pistols who had been influenced by The Ramones but had their own kind of fury and other UK bands started to have an effect. There was a lot of discussion, which I wrote about in the New York Rocker and the LA Weekly, about whether our New York music was punk. And we didn’t think so. We were, most of us, a bunch of punk kids but Punk wasn’t a good moniker for most NY bands.

A lot of your Pitchfork article was also about your acting career. How did you get into acting?

LJP: Yeah, that article was about the time when you could still get an apartment for $65 a month in Greenwich Village. There was a lot of experimental theater in the neighborhood, and this guy who lived in my building was a wonderful, known playwright and all around character in The Village named Harry (H.M. Koutoukas), and he came up to me on the street one day and said, “Darling I've written a play for you. Rehearsals start on Sunday. The pay is $25 a week. I’m sending someone to pick you up.” And I didn’t really have anything better to do, I wasn’t sure what I was doing. It was right after I graduated from high school. The guy he sent to pick me up, came to my apartment, walked me from there to the East Village to La Mama Experimental Theater Club and we started rehearsals, and that got my career started. I was enthusiastic and had a passion for it and even more important, I got laughs. The guy who picked me up and walked me to the first rehearsal of the play was the same person who let Chris and Debbie move into the loft on the Bowery with him. The theaters I worked in were right around the corner from CBGB’s so it was convenient to go to shows after I’d perform. The acting part of my career went on until about 2005. I haven’t done much of it since then but I'd welcome the opportunity to play some juicy part with fun people.

What was your favorite acting role? LJP: Well, that’s a hard question to answer because I’d almost always think, “this is the best job, this is the most fun I’ve ever had!” I loved the film The Big Easy, because I had worked with the director Jim McBride before, and we knew each other pretty well. And there was a preponderance of male characters in that script and I said to him, “you should make one of these detectives a woman. It would be so much more interesting.” We had to convince the producer, and we did, and I basically got to write my own role. And you were in the Golden Girls! What was that like? LJP: Well, those ladies are pretty amazing and admirable, as you might imagine. Bea didn’t like to talk very much. She would come in every morning and say “good morning everyone” and not really talk to anyone all day, unless she had a note for you about your performance. It was quite odd. It was fun, but there were more fun jobs. It was more fun to watch them work. What music/art/other stuff do you like today? LJP: Theres a band called Shame that’s from the UK, and they just put out a record called Songs of Praise. I’ve seen them live and they’re fantastic. They have the spirit that I saw back then, in the mid 70s from all the punk bands that we didn’t call punk. I love Mary Epworth who is putting her own unique ethereal spin on psychedelia. She has a beautiful voice. I love so many artists and musicians that I don’t know where to start listing but I’ll tell you this, at any given time you might find me listening to Rhys Chatham’s Guitar Trio Is My Life! I’ve been listening to Simple Minds again lately. I like Orwells, who I learned about from you. When I was growing up I was the only girl that I knew who had a record player and records. My father worked at a newspaper, so I got a lot of free records. My stepfather was a violinist and he would buy me more experimental music. I always liked noise and I was the only girl I knew who liked prog, and I still like prog. I love Steven Wilson, from Porcupine Tree--but not Porcupine Tree. I like his prog band which goes by his name. I like his work in part because he writes interesting songs about women. No one’s really paid enough attention to that. Prog is leaving behind it’s reputation as a masculine ghetto. Someone needs to write about it. Maybe me, but I haven’t gotten around to that.

Interview by Chloe Graham

All Images Courtesy of Lisa Jane Persky

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faux furrs, temporary pharaohs, the hustle at beat kitchen.

all photos by me Chloe Graham; no photos of the headliner The Evening Attraction bc the photographer was having too good a time

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Reaching Out: An Interview w/Pool Holograph

The first time I saw Pool Holograph they were opening for The Walters at their famed (at least in my tiny Chicago/surrounding suburbs college student music scene) show at Lincoln Hall. As someone who was there specifically for The Walters, to give Luke a sweater that anyone who ever reads this tiny blog already knows about, I was surprised by what a great show they put on. It was artful, chaotic, immersive, and for a first band on a lineup of four, I thought it was quite impressive that they gave it their all, instead of phoning it in like many other openers I’ve seen who are too caught up in the construct of not being the “headliner.” Read more in the interview below and enjoy some of my favorite photos I’ve taken so far to hear about their often entertaining thoughts on art, music, and themselves.

Paul: How was the tall boy?

Zach: I chugged it down as fast as I could. It was not great.

Wyatt: I chugged mine really fast because I was really excited to come over but now I’m kinda drunk right now.

SUB/VERSE: You’ll be more honest!

Wyatt: Yeah, right…

Paul: Well Wyatt’s a compulsive liar

Wyatt: I’m more like a ridiculous liar. I accidentally tell the truth and overtly falsify everything else.

SUB/VERSE: So how did the band start?

Wyatt: We were just talking about this recently! I feel like us getting together was we had a good little start with me and Zach having a collaborative element, but now its this new band that has stemmed from this little stream that I think ended up flourishing through that kaleidoscope effect when you get more people in the room. Going from there it just elaborates on ideas. We were just saying that you can do your own thing, but you can’t possibly capture what everyone else is doing, I couldn’t manufacture what anyone else does in the band, and i think everyone else feels the same way about themselves in the band. Pool Holograph kind of started with the self titled “Pool Holograph” album I put out, in 2009-10. I just put it on the internet without any plans to perform. That as a project was the first songwriting project I did, which was something about openness and exploring. Its kind of how life goes, it comes in kind of unexpected ways that give you motivation. I like to look at it as the band started when we all decided to get in the same room. When I think about Pool Holograph now I think about all of us. I like to think about it as a state. This artist Philip Guston was asked why he made art, and he was like, I just want to stay in this state. He’s saying that state is about a moment, about getting back to that state, not thinking about all the shit you’ve been through. I don’t know if that’s too long an answer, but I just get really excited about this stuff. Music is crazy!

SUB/VERSE: What do you write most about in the band?

Zach: Thats all Wyatt really. I think the reasons we’re all interested in music, there’s sort of a movement in each release of music. We want to keep exploring different ideas and figuring out what it means to do that.

Wyatt: I think recently its been about more lucid authorship, being more tangible, more direct. I’ve seen songwriting in the past a lot like a diary, just venting and trying to get outside of your head. Being like, this is me! I totally relate! Its the same reason you make art as a kid, like a Avril Lavigne collage or something, like “yeah, sick! I totally get you and you get me!” The artists we really like are ones that are kind of reaching outside themselves, or what they know themselves to be. But more to answer you question, the kind of stuff this album is about is the outside world, and relating to the outside world, and things you don’t understand, and relating to others. With each song, its not a different struggle for each one, its not that concrete like a concept album, but Transparent World  is about being able to see through everything in a way, and being able to see into yourself and to… its really tough to describe. On a concrete level, you can be like, this one is about car rides, or a spooky dream, or an argument…

Paul: I feel like there’s a lot of anxiety in the songs, and your relationship with the outside world, and dealing with your inner self.

Wyatt: Anxiety is a word we see in a lot of reviews for the music. I hate the idea of being super cryptic. With this album, I tried to, like, pick a color, like how do you want to describe this? And make some sort of effort to be more specific so people can relate to you.

Jake: I feel like its a constant struggle to describe what  the music means to us. You think you have an idea about what it might be, but its not easy to just nail down. Playing wise I think its like an airplane, like you’re on the runway and you speed up and then you’re in the zone and you understand it or you don’t but you’re with all your friends and you know what each other’s doing.

Wyatt: You kind of have a feeling for the parameters and discussion of the song. Talking about a specific song, the first one, Codex Hammer,  the way that was written is it was supposed to be very thin and light and see through. Its kind of a precursor to the rest of the album, like here’s your debrief: you’re in this place right now where no one will be able to understand you and you can’t necessarily understand anyone else. Hammer codex, or Hammer lee caster is Leonardo da vinci’s diary. I thought by switching around the words, codex being a book, and hammer being like a forceful objector, a book as a forceful object. Thats kind of how you experience life, you’re constantly barraged. The part of the song where its like, “expecting a hand on your palace gates/ expecting physical contact on your palace gates/but you had a hammer coming” is like, the forces of the world have no regard for your intake. So what you do with it is up to you and within your faculties. Its important that as an individual, what you do is sacred.

Zach: Part of remaining active is staying malleable to whatever facets of your life are hitting you the hardest. Those are the things you have to deal with the fastest.

Wyatt: I think malleable is a good word, because we all like to have fun when we’re writing, and kind of mess with each other. I’m pointing to Jake because I mess with him a lot! I get in his face a lot and climb all over his drums. I don’t really see that as a rock n roll kind of thing anymore. I see myself as a mountain goat, just propping myself up and feeling good. I don’t know why! About two years ago, almost to the day, we played a Halloween show. We were a custoomed band, as the nihilists from the Big Lubowski, all in black, and I had a fake ferret. When I jumped on Jake’s drums, I jumped on him because my shoes were too slippery and while I was jumping I got scared and just jumped on him. Then I kicked out the drum set, and realized it wasn’t our drum set! I had to get on the mic and apologize, which is the most un- rock n roll thing ever! It was fun for other people though. I hate the idea that you have to listen back to this, I just keep rambling!

No its fine! When I called Alex from the Modern Vices the first thing he asked was whether the interview would be published as a podcast because he was nervous about how he’d sound! I was like you’re a singer but okay!

Paul: We had a really painful Chirp interview that I can’t listen back to…

Zach: We were so stressed out.

Wyatt: I started talking about Bob Dylan and i had no idea what I was saying.

SUB/VERSE: Well I hate listening back to these because I sound like a pre pubescent boy on recordings!

Wyatt: You gotta own that! I sound like Peter Pan’s dog, like the character no one wants to hear from.

Jake: I don’t hate my voice.

SUB/VERSE: So I read that some guys in the band went to Saic? When do you think music is art, what makes it not art…?

Wyatt: Thats a good question...its all in tandem, its all the same exact thing. Same process, although they have different limitations with the way society sees it. You can do really socially unacceptable things on stage, and you can do different socially unacceptable things on a page. I didn’t mean for that to rhyme, or sound like a quote or anything! (in gruff Keith Richards type voice) Whether its on a stage or a page, I rock the show! Make sure you include the stogie puff. Anyway I don’t think its dogmatic to say they have to be in the same place, because sometimes you’re in a really sweaty room and you’re coming up with something and coming up with ideas. I mean, the activities are different but their from the same well.

Paul: I think all music is art, whether its a perfectly constructed pop song or an experimental 20 minute track. It can all affect someone.

Wyatt: Thats not to say the trajectories aren’t different. Its really beautiful how music has its own place, like, I’m going to go to a record store and put it on this device and experience it. As a listener, the experiences aren’t the same, but the authorship comes from the same primal place. I think the way we as society antiqaute these things is beautiful. I think its cool that music in some ways is off limits because theres a pull to it. I think art and music have their own worlds and angular relationships, and there are crossovers. But the clarity of those crossovers isnt necessarily for enjoying them. What do you think?

SUB/VERSE: Well I definitely think music is art. I really like thinking about people who don’t write their own music but have an interesting way of performing.

Wyatt: Yeah… there are some Andy Warhol works that he never saw or touched, and I think that was a part of his art.

Zach: I think people like that can be the vehicle for the music, and I think thats an important part of the performance part of music. Music can contextualize a moment and explain how it felt, or the time period it was written. For each person you were doing very specific things when you heard certain songs. I think thats a big part of music as an art form, its community based, and a theatrical thing.   

Paul: Its crazy how some of these songs you wrote two years ago still feel weird or uncomfortable when we’re playing, or  feel new. Its great when you can get a crowd going, like that Walters show was awesome, because they got everyone going crazy. Being able to strike that emotion in people is the ultimate goal of performing.

SUB/VERSE: I think its crazy when you’re at a show and the performer is directing everything, like someone jumps off a stage at specific moments or whatever.

Wyatt: But the weird part is that the performer is also being provoked by the audience! You see performances fall apart because the crowd is dead. Its bigger than all of us. And i like that. For any performer, no one is a master of it. Its a sort of intangible, unstable…

Paul: Just reacting to everything around you, taking things as they come.

Wyatt: Yeah, I like looking at music all in that same sphere. Sometimes it strikes at the right moment, and thats really cool, but its like any chemical reaction. Like oh there’s a cloud, a group of molecules, and its in the shape of a rabbit, and thats really cool! Thats phenomenal I’m going to take a picture of it!

Paul: We just stand in the formation of a rabbit onstage.

Wyatt: Its basically just us looking like a rabbit for people on nights that it works. I like to look at it like its that surrendipitous. Like Pool Holograph is a mistaken name. Turns out a holograph is a body of text, which is a weird coincidence. But its like the top of the pool, basically, and its this sort of amorphous thing, and its this one thing to look at. And its never the same for everyone, and there’s a lot of depth underneath it that no one sees. Its striking, and its going away. Its about fleeting things and I want to keep in that zone. I never want to be like, nailed it, write it down, put it in the history books! We live in a really great time to play with other great live bands and be a part of this community, and thats all you can really ask for.

INTERVIEW AND PHOTOS BY CHLOE GRAHAM

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Faux Furrs at Dimos Pizza!

ALL PHOTOS BY CHLOE GRAHAM

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Together Pangea, Tall Juan, Daddy Issues, and La La Lala at the Bottom Lounge

What is Tall Juan?

:) Tall Juan is Iggy Pop Richard Hell Ramones Beat Happening. Tall Juan is licking a stage, a mic stand, making out with his mic. Tall Juan is a gorgeously sloppy elvis routine, with riot grrrl songs in Spanish. Tall Juan filters out the posers from the punks. Tall Juan makes the audience he wants.

What is Daddy Issues?

<3 Daddy Issues is a threatening force of nature. Daddy Issues is a creepy taboo name with a cute streak. Daddy Issues is standing in stilettoes and being sturdy and strong. Daddy Issues is dancing freely with your guitar/bass.

What is Lala Lala?

Lala Lala is a beautiful sounding drone. Lala Lala is catching every feeling. Lala Lala is best friends and scary stories and sticky faces and menacing laughs.

What is Together Pangea?

Together Pangea is buddies and beer splashes, dorks having fun. Together Pangea is one big party. Together Pangea is looking tough yet being achingly sensitive.

ALL IMAGES AND TEXT BY CHLOE GRAHAM

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Cayetana @ the Subterranean Part 2

ALL IMAGES BY CHLOE GRAHAM

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Cayetana @ Subterranean Photo Story (Part 1)

ALL IMAGES BY CHLOE GRAHAM

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What Else Could I Write?

          Writing about my favorite thing, music, is really hard right now. I know why, but at the same time I don’t. My whole life, when something’s nagging at me and I don’t know what it is, I’ve sensed it as a blank space in my head, literally. And right now, whenever I sit down to write about all of the boring ideas I’ve tried to hash out (the Replacements and feminism! Significant concerts in my life! And several reviews of concerts that are way too long ago to review), I feel like I’m pushing against that space.

           Maybe I’m depressed, maybe its college maybe its my complete lack of organization in any facet of my life. The only thing I know for sure is that nothing besides my family or a sense of God in this hopeless feeling world makes me happier than music. I tend to feel very out of body at times, especially in big social events. Music is the one place where I feel real. People are in front of me (the people in front are always the band because I’m the girl thats there 3 hours early hiding in her phone), they look at me, they smile, they throw me guitar picks because from that glowing sweaty desperate look as I get slammed into the stage and reach reach reach my arms as far as my shoulder sockets will allow, they know its something I’ll put in a torn leather pouch with “Teenage Lovers” painted on it on my bedside table.

            Music is the only thing I enjoy getting bruised splashed with middle schoolers spiked mountain dew in my hair and crashed into for. I’m at my realest at a show. In public you’ll never hear a word about my period, my friend troubles, or who in the band I’m sweet on. But in my favorite place on earth, The Front Row, sitting on amp cords and wiry carpet and jagged nails, I just might toss a sanitary napkin at you  and tell someone I just met that I really miss my friends and would you be my friend?

              When you really think about it, what even is music, or more specifically, a concert? An occasion where 5-50,000 people gather to watch someone sit in front of a piano, or scream into a mic, or jump into a crowd and wrap people in electrical cords? It mystifies me how some people are just born with the ability to make people buy $50 tickets to watch them sing. Penny Lane and Pamela Barres and the GTOs had it right; they didn’t question this siren like phenomenon of touring bands, and people who can silence an entire room of people just by walking five steps to their mic stand guitar drum set or bass. Like a giggly blonde in a rom com, they ran after love, and followed their heart.

            So basically, I still have no idea what I’m writing. But I don’t want to be a reviewer, a serious journalist, or a social climber. Which are things that are highly easy to get caught up in! I want to be a writer who conveys how music feels, not why its “important”, “seminal” or a “must listen.” Because none of that matters. The band that I listen to when meaningful writing feels hopeless, who held every fleeting truly magical moment in their live shows in the palm of their hand, broke up this week. Despite their immense talent and charisma, they had no record deal, and no official managers but themselves. Even without long think pieces and writers to tell you how “culturally important” Hunk Beach was, their popularity grew beyond what many indie bands dream of.

              I had heard rumors around the internet, and was bracing myself a bit. Despite being someone who loves some good gossip, I couldn’t care less about why it happened; I just didn’t want it to be true. Ever since last last September, I wanted The Walters to always be available, to scream to their old songs and be thrilled by new ones. For a band that built much of its online presence on self made memes and irony, my love for them and their presence on stage was genuine in the purest form. I don’t think anyone really got why I took them so seriously, even if they liked them too. They’re goofy! Its all a joke! But feeling present and real is how I felt at every Walters show. Unlike a band where you dream of being them, with The Walters, you feel like you can. At one of my favorite shows, at the Steppenwolf, everyone was seated. They got through maybe two songs, and then told everyone to come up front. Finally, the show felt real. Within five seconds bass cords were getting knotted around ankles and girlfriends were on boyfriends shoulders. All of this in a miniature side theater with electronic candles. Every Walters show felt like a performance piece of, how wild can we behave before this whole thing gets shut down?

                    Anyway, I guess I’m trying badly to bring the point home that I don’t know what to write because I don’t see music the way music rags want you to see music. I see it as something visceral and primal, something that you know when you hear it, not when you read a review or decide to join a trend. How do you write about a feeling? If you couldn’t tell yet, I have no idea. But for right now, I’ll keep writing my questions, and searching for the answers in a really good song.

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Taking Note: An Interview w/ Charlie Pfaff of Tall Friend

Everyone can feel out of place sometimes. At school, in friendships, and even in their own bodies. This is what Tall Friend’s Charlie Pfaff is inspired by. The title of Tall Friend’s latest album, Safely Nobody, hints at feelings of not belonging, or at least not belonging in society’s rigid boxes. They also sing about tricky topics, like grief and difficult family relationships. In an increasingly online culture, with words like “trauma” being tossed about to describe trivial difficulties like picking a frappucino flavor, a singer songwriter who is willing to tackle these subjects, accompanied by beautiful sounding music, is to say the least refreshing. 

SUB/V: A lot of your music, especially on this last record, is very personal but also contains experiences many people have gone through. Do you get a lot of feedback from fans about its relatablity? Do you ever feel responsible for "representing" serious issues others have faced, even though you're just writing from your own life? 

Charlie Pfaff: I do get a lot of feedback, and sometimes it's a lot. However, I also understand the overwhelming feeling of being understood by someone. It's heartwarming to think that someone can listen to the music I make and feel compelled to share their experiences with me. While I don't know if I ever feel responsible for representing a certain issue, I do know that the subjects I write about are very weighted. I'm definitely an empathetic person, but when I write lyrics it's never directly for anyone besides myself. 

SUB/V: In the video for "Small Spaces", you and your band mates don't show your faces. Is their a reason for that?

CP: My bandmates are not in the video with me, actually! Those are my friends Colin and Quinn. My friend Allyssa, who shot and directed the video, had a vision in which I don't show my face at all. We both thought the song was pretty physical, if that makes sense-- very bodily and biological. I experience a lot of dysphoria and problems with my physical self, so it was cool to just focus on moving/existing in the video.

SUB/V: What's behind the name of your band?

CP: The band name is from 2014, so honestly I don't know if I would have chosen it now, but I suppose it comes from the fact that all my life people have said things to me that are along the lines of "you're pretty tall for a girl!", etcetera. I think most people, especially those who experience dysphoria, are constantly and violently aware of their bodies. I wanted to take note of that.

SUB/V: Was there any music, or a particular moment in your life, that inspired you to pursue music? 

CP: Oh, definitely. It sounds pretty cliche, but music was something I turned to in middle and high school to help me survive. I often felt like the musicians I listened to were the only people who truly understood me, and it was very inspiring to listen to people that were older because it assured me that I would live to be a grown up. 

SUB/V:  There's two songs on tawl friend called "termites" and "cockroach." Why/how did you choose to use bugs to tell these stories? 

CP:  Bugs are invasive and small enough to creep into things! It's easy to liken stuff like anxiety and grief to insects, because they start small but then there's this infestation that suddenly makes everything huge and frightening. 

SUB/V: I really love your song "guts", especially the lyrics about a friend and telling them "you'll always be nothing but magic to me." Are your friendships big inspirations for your songs? Why do you think there aren't more songs about friendship, as opposed to dating or partying?

CP:  Awww thank you! That song is about a friend that helped me get through my early teens, and growing up in our hometown. I wrote those songs at a time when everything felt really unbearable and I didn't want to exist. Friendships are so incredibly sacred in a way that romance might not be, because there are rarely any ulterior motives. I think there are a lot of songs that I love about friendship and family, even now! 

DRAWING AND INTERVIEW BY CHLOE GRAHAM

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Senses of Wonder: An Interview w/Amy Oelsner

As a female person and a musician on Bandcamp, many close minded music nerds might write off Amy Oelsner (or her stage name, Amy O) as just another twee musician coming out of the “Bandcamp girl” trend. What separates Oelsner from the constant proliferation of twee songs about breakfast is the depth of her subject matter, and an appetite for experimentation and variety. Her songs are both personal and relatable, loud and quiet, fast and slow. Some of them are delightfully homemade sounding, while others sound like professional studio recordings. She also makes zines, her latest including Sub/v favorites like Frankie Cosmos. Last week I interviewed Oelsner over email about high school, Indiana, and how she makes her great music. 

SUB/V: Indiana, at least in the popular imagination, isn't always considered a big music town, but I think everywhere is somewhere. What is it like being a musician there? Does the local scene influence your work?

Definitely!  In my experience, it’s a vibrant and generous scene here in Bloomington.  People give each other space to change and experiment- which is really important in a small town.  I’m influenced by going to see some of my favorite local musicians play and by generally observing the constant stream of new albums, songs, bands and projects that are coming out of this area.  I’m also influenced by living so close to a number of state parks and trying to spend as much time as possible in the woods.  

SUB/V: Your song "Sunday Meal" seems to be a lot about finding solace in small moments, and trying to preserve those moments. Are these small moments important to how you make music?

I think honing my observation skills in small moments is important to how I make music.  Recently I’ve been thinking that one of the jobs of an artist is to maintain a sense of wonder within themselves and then to figure out a way to translate that to others through their medium.  Being able to find something special in a small moment is a good way of doing that- especially when you’re faced with loss or other emotional challenges.

Sub/v: Comparing your earlier releases to the new album, some of the older ones (like "Honeysuckle") are very charmingly lo fi sounding, while the new recordings sound more "professional studio." Is their a reason for this? How do you think the differences in recording help these songs?

The main reason I decided to go with a less lo-fi sound with ‘Elastic’ is because I always want to be growing and trying out new things.  I had only ever done lo-fi or home recording, and felt like it was time to experiment with a new way.  Also my friend Mike Bridavsky (who runs Russian Recording) expressed interest in working together- so it made it an even easier decision to go for it.  I think the relative formality of recording in a more professional studio pushed me to be more prepared and to take each session very seriously- not wanting to waste time or money.  That probably had an impact on the overall cohesiveness of the album.

SUB/V:  I think your zine with interviews with women musicians is a really cool idea. Did any of the feedback from these musicians change the way you think about music?

Thanks!  I don’t think it changed the way I think about music- rather it reinforced some things I already knew.  That there is no right or wrong way to approach music, that jealousy and comparing yourself to others doesn’t get you anywhere, that everyone has a different path/different timing, and that the way the media tries to lump women musicians together into one genre is completely ridiculous.

SUB/V: What kinds of experiences do you think you write about the most, or inspire you most?

I often start the songwriting process from an emotional place.  Most of the time I’ll have a feeling/idea building up in me that needs an outlet.  Usually it’s related to some past or current relationship in my life, but not always.  Once I start working on the song, it becomes a lot more intellectual and critical.  I get inspired by listening to other people’s music that I admire, watching movies, dreams, reading, overhearing conversations, jotting down notes from my day and probably a bunch of other things that I’m not even aware of.

SUB/V: Your song "Lavender Night" is about something pretty serious and scary. Is music a good way for you to process fear, or to understand it later? Does it give you closure after something frightening?

Music gives me a vehicle to share my experiences with people, which does help with processing fear and giving closure.  Writing songs (or making art in general) is a way of taking a big, scary or upsetting situation and making it a little easier to understand, both for myself and others.  It also helps me to acknowledge when something is hard on me- I have a tendency to sweep difficult circumstances under the rug as I’m living them and I’ll often not understand why I’m having such a challenging time until it passes and I get some perspective on the matter.

SUB/V: Sub/Verse was started back when I was in high school, so I always like to ask people about high school! What music did you listen to then? Were there non-music things that inspired you? Maybe some quilty pleasure music?

In high school I loved listening to Mirah, Elliott Smith, Belle and Sebastian, The Postal Service, Modest Mouse, The Flaming Lips, Built to Spill, The Smiths, The Kinks, Tom Petty, The Beatles, Joni Mitchell, Sleater Kinney, Bikini Kill… so many others!  My friends and I had a funny obsession with The Shaggs.  I had pretty similar taste to what I like nowadays.  I was also really serious about acting in high school.  I was in a young actor’s company and basically spent all my free time out of school working on plays.  Guilty pleasure music in high school would probably be Bright Eyes.

THANKS AMY! PICTURES BY ANNA POWELL TEETER/p>

AMY O BANDCAMP: https://amyo.bandcamp.com