hi would u by chance have any scans of the five stories falling insert?
Hi! We don’t have high quality scans (working on that!) but in the meantime, here are some photos courtesy of @8thnotes.
As you may know, this EP was released as part of a contractual obligation with Victory Records after Thursday had already departed the label on bad terms. As such, it featured only live tracks and one new song, Jet Black New Year (featuring Gerard Way). New Year’s is pretty significant to Thursday, so each of the guys wrote a New Year’s-inspired piece for the jacket cover. The results...varied greatly.
Transcripts below the cut. Please heed the content warnings!
Geoff: “Closing All My Windows” (cw: graphic child death, gore, blood, brief suicidal ideation)
Geoff: “Closing All My Windows” (cw: graphic child death, gore, blood, brief suicidal ideation)
When the crowd parted for the paramedics, we already knew it wasn't necessary. The street was painted a purple-red with that boy's blood. On impact, his body had folded on itself; he looked like he was praying to the mailbox. The air was turning the blood on the sidewalk rust brown, but in his hair it stayed a dark red. It seemed to get redder with every flash of the newspaperman's camera. I took the train back to New Jersey where my girlfriend and I were going to a New Year's Eve party.
"I'm having the worst day, what a way to end the year," she shouted in my ear as the faces flashed by in the strobe light and the floorboards shook with music. "I lost my purse and someone spilled red wine all over me." The sight of the wine in the dark made my mouth water and every pulse of the strobe was the eye of the photographer's camera.
"At least I've got you," she winked.
I bit down on my lip and the afternoon flooded into my blood like an IV drip: the crowd's black faces; reporters searching for the parents the steam drifting from the young boy's broken mouth; the pair of sneakers tangled in the power lines hanging like a forgotten mistletoe.
"Hey, where are you?" She pleaded.
But I was right there. The blood was soaking into my untied shoelace as we watched the ambulance pull up. I was right there: The calm voices of the paramedics made the temperature drop twenty degrees. I was right there: They zipped up the black bag and I couldn't breathe.
"You better not be in another one of your moods. Not tonight."
I tried to listen, but I couldn't resist the pull of the breathing open window. I saw myself running to it and lunging straight through it. I felt like I was suffocating in a zipped-up black bag.
"I'm not going to do it. I'm not going to deal with you ignoring me this year. That's my resolution! Good-bye."
I had to lock myself in the backroom to stop myself from jumping out the window. In the mirror, my dirty blond hair was tinged red. I tried closing my eyes but when I looked in the mirror my hair was saturated, a thick crimson. The New Year cheers sounded like screams through the door and I swore that I'd never let myself care about anything else ever again. The next morning the paper said that a boy had fallen out of an unlocked window in his parent's apartment in New York. I dyed my hair the darkest black I could find. A black so dark it could cover the deepest blood red and suffocate the brightest halo. -Geoff.
The sky pants a fresh layer of snow on the bitter cold small town streets. A small party slides their way towards the local pub. Each person has a beer in their hand and they run for five paces, then lock up their legs and see if they can pound their beers as they slide down icy sidewalks towards the pub. Upon reaching the pub they polish off their beers, toss them on the ground before they ender. As the door opens, the roar from inside leaks out onto the street. "Alright! Who's buying?!" The door closes and leaves the street in its peace. In the window there is a side-scrolling LED display. "Come bring in the New Year at O'Casey's with a bang! No Cover. Good times with good friends. Dollar drafts and free champagne for the countdown. No one does New Years like O'Casey's.
Across the street from the pub stands a 6-story tenement. A young boy sits high above on a Christmas light lined fire escape trying to catch snowflakes on his tongue. In the background his parents are hosting a party. He grabs his sled and polishes it off. He stands on it and slides around on his makeshift porch. He fiddles with one of the lights, unplugging and plugging it, making the first escape go black and then bright again. He looks towards the steamy storefront window of the pub across the street as the cheers begin to seep through the glass. He notices a seemingly young figure approaching the pub, who appears to have an oblong shaped object hanging from his neck and he is carrying a shovel. The figure stops in front of the pub, rests his shovel against the front window of the pub and takes his gloves off. He presses the side of the oblong object bringing it to life and puts his gloves back on. It is an LED screen that reads: "Tired of being snowed-in? Hire me. Let me clear the walkway to your house. Start the New Year with a clean slate. I am Negotiable. Happy New Year." He looks down the streets for potential customers but the streets are barren. He then looks back towards the pub hoping that someone will come out soon.
A few minutes later a car pulls up and drops off a young couple. The guy opens the door for the pub expecting his girlfriend to enter. He turns to find her talking to the LED kid. "Jen c'mon…"
"Hold on. Look at how cute this kid is."
"Cute? He just looks like a bum with a light-bright necklace. Big deal. C'mon they're waiting for us inside."
"He's just trying to make an honest living."
"Fine. Here kid. Here's five bucks, now can I have my girlfriend back."
He slaps the money into the kid's hand and drags Jen into the pub. He has obviously had a few on the way. While being whisked away she winks at the kid and mouths him an "I'm sorry." The street once again grows quiet.
The LED kid takes the five-dollar bill and sticks it to the frost covered door of the pub. He takes his gloves off and punches some buttons on the back of his contraption. His LED now reads: "Tired of being snowed-in? Hire me. Let me clear the walkway to your house. Start the New Year with a clean slate. I am Negotiable. AND NO I DO NOT ACCEPT TIPS! Happy New Year."
Inside the bar, Jen is sitting with some friends. Her boyfriend approaches with a round of beers for the table. He leans in to give Jen a kiss as he gives her a beer. She turns away and sips the beer.
"What's with you?"
"You didn't have to be so rude."
"What are you talking about?"
"That boy outside."
He sighs, but quickly collects himself.
"Look this is our time and I wanted to spend it with you."
Jen looks around the pub.
"Right, ok. Let's just drop it."
"I'm sorry."
He leans in and gives her a gently kiss on the cheek. In the background the LED kid rubbed away part of the window and is watching this tender moment. He laughs.
Just as he turns around, he sees a middle aged man who is about to enter the pub. The kid stops the man and motions for him to wait one second. "Look kid, I'm not giving you any money."
Again he motions for the man to wait one second. He begins to punch some buttons on the back of his contraption. The LED reads: "Do me a favor? When you go in there will you buy someone a beer for me?"
"With what money?"
The kid peels the five dollar pull from the door and hands it to the man.
"Ok kid, who is it for?"
He clears off another part of the window and points towards Jen.
"Ok kid sure thing. By the way you should try talking sometime it would save us all some time."
He begins punching buttons again.
The LED reads "Thanks. Have a Happy New Year."
The man salutes the kid and enters the pub.
Inside the man delivers the beer to Jen, who is now sitting next to her boyfriend.
"Can't you see she's with someone. I don't have my arm around her for my health."
"It's from the kid outside, so Happy New Year to you too."
Jen happily accepts the beer. The man walks away. Jen's boyfriend snaps.
"Ok find. You want a nice quiet romantic New Year's. Let me make it up to you. I know the perfect thing."
He grabs her roughly by the elbow and forces her up from the table forcing her to drop her beer. The middle-aged man notices.
"Hey buddy. Why don't we just relax now. We're at O'Casey's, let's just try to enjoy what we have left of the year."
He offers a salute with his beer and takes a swig to try and soften the blow.
"Like I said before. Can't you see she's with someone. Just finish your beer and mind your business."
"Have it your way my friend. Just don't let the door hit you on the way out."
Jen has now been forced outside. The LED kid is startled.
"Hey pal, thanks for buying my girlfriend the beer. She really appreciated it."
He turns towards her.
"You appreciated it, didn't you?! Say Thank You."
He squeezes her elbow harder.
"Thank You."
The LED kid takes a step forward, unsure of what he should or rather could do.
"Look kid since you've been so nice to my girlfriend, I'm sure you wouldn't mind being a little nicer."
He rips the kid's hat and gloves off of him, and forcefully puts them on his girlfriend.
"See honey, now you won't be cold on our nice romantic walk home. Say thank you…. Say it!"
"Thank you."
Just as she looks to the kid for help, he begins to swing his LED display at her aggressor. As it clips him in the shoulder, what seems like a minor fireworks display takes place as his machine makes impact. Despite his efforts, he is unsuccessful in thwarting any further drama and before he even realizes it the kid finds himself lying on his back.
"Oh c'mon now. That was uncalled for. I'm not trying to fight anybody. It's New Year's Eve and I intend to bring in the year with my girlfriend."
Jen is now in tears but too scared to make a sound. She is escorted away.
The kid doesn't appear to be hurt but he is just lying there on his back, his LED display blinking erratically. He appears to be hypnotized by the falling snow. He notices the boy up on the first escape playing with the Christmas lights. The fire escape flickers at him. The excitement from the bar once again leaks out onto the streets. The countdown has begun. The kid watches the flickering glow of his LED display colorize the falling snow as it nears his body. He smacks the side of the LED and it goes black momentarily. The snow has suddenly stopped. The LED reads: "Tired of being snowed-in? Hire me. Let me clear the walkway to your house. Start the New Year with a clean slate. I am Negotiable. Happy New Year." - Steve
Tim: “We're Gonna Party Like it's 1999″
My body was trembling with the nervous anticipation of our first "real" show. I could barely keep my shaky fingers on the tuning pegs as I stared out at the foreign equipment. A friend's band was playing the Saves the Day New Year's Eve show in Geoff's basement and they were kind enough to donate their equipment and half of their already short set to us, the resident wannabe band. We had only decided on our name a few days prior to the show, and to top it off, our guitar player had called us an hour before we were supposed to play to inform us that he didn't feel up to playing that night. In order to compensate for the missing guitar, Geoff, having written some of the parts, become our second guitarist. People were already shouting at us to hurry up, but we had no idea what we were doing. Frantically trying to set up our equipment and avoiding the cold stares of the two hundred plus crowd seemed to be a death-defying feat.
The inescapable moment had finally arrived. With the click of Tucker's drum sticks, we began a journey that lived far beyond its ten minutes of actuality. I don't think the term 'train wreck' ever rang so true. The screeching of metal on metal and the thunderous roar of a head-on collision somehow managed to find its way out or our instruments. Harmonics turned into catcalls. When I looked at the crowd, I had a feeling that the wide-eyed looks of bewilderment were not based on our musical prowess. This thought was solidified by the amazing silence that followed the end of our second song.
I was alone and clutching a bottle of liquor. The sounds of a group countdown and the chorus to the Prince song "party like it's 1999" bled through the thin walls into the dimly lit stairwell. Thoughts of smashing my bass in the city street and leaving it for someone else to reap its misfortunes seemed a fitting end to the evening. It felt like an eternity before I heard the eruptive HAPPY NEW YEAR. I made my way to the living room and searched for the rest of my band. I found them doing the same thing that I had been doing, wishing that they could erase the horrible event from their minds.
Looking back on that New Year's Eve makes me realize how close I was to abandoning music for something easier, something I knew wouldn't be a challenge. Not allowing the obstacles of being in a band dissuade me from pursuing my dream has made all of the experiences I have had that much more rewarding.
Tom: “Jet Black Communication Breakdown”
When we initially set out to write what would become "Jet Black New Year" we thought the process would be covering familiar ground. Our writing process was pretty simple…five friends getting together to form a dialogue with music. What we couldn't have known at the time we first got together in the space in the warehouse was that this song would come to represent the worst in all of us. It would become the product of our anger and frustration towards one another…a condition stemming from a year and a half of touring and not communicating with one another. I can remember hating the fact that I had to drive an hour to practice knowing that we were just going to fight for 7 hours and not accomplish anything. I had resigned to the fact that we had become incapable of writing songs that "made sense" and that we had lost sight of what was enjoyable about being in a band together. I didn't realize at the time that Jew Black New Year would make perfect "sense" in the end or that it would become a replica of who we were as a group that winter.
What is strange about this song is that it sounds to me like a fight, each part colliding with full force into the next. There are times when sounds line up and agree simply to move in the same direction only to fall and break apart into separate directions, gaining velocity for the next collision. We were fighting each other. All of us were unwilling to ever cause physical harm to one another, but we were incapable of working things out verbally. Instead we were using sounds as weapons, and we were trying to beat the crap out of each other.
I remember hating the song, but needing it to exist as it was because it was our only forum for constructive communication. If the song didn't exist, all communication between the five of us would have stopped. I remember not knowing why we were so mad at each other and later figuring it out. In the year and a half that we toured straight through, we were all changing as people, very gradually but surely we were becoming different people. We were all individually dealing with losses, with illness and simply with the passage of a year. None of us really realized this until after the fact. Imagine the feeling of your best friend telling you that he no longer related to you in any way…now imagine the tension between 5 best friends all saying that at the same time to one another in a room with the door locked. The good news is that we found what we had in common. Eventually we would find that we all still had a lot in common, but at first it was simply the common desire to make music, and the fact that none of us could imagine making music with any other group of people. Using this as a stepping stone we gradually fought through Jet Black New Year.
What is ironic is that the song was almost scrapped because we didn't think it was "us" enough. Jet Black New Year was in fact, us. The sounds of the different instruments aren't just guitar parts or drum beats, they are the different voices of a heated argument, one that ends in all parties agreeing to disagree for the sake of "making a song" and for the sake of making it through the day even if not on speaking terms. The song was our collective "greater good" that existed at the end of this seemingly endless chain of fights. This recording is a document of not only a version of ourselves we are all uncomfortable facing but also of a time where we were our closest to giving up trying to make things work. Jet Black New Year is as detached from itself as we were from each other at the time, but it is a perfect mirror image of what we had become as people; angry, schizophrenic, dysfunctional, combative and stubborn.
Hopefully, the new year will bring us back to where we started with compassion, communication, sincerity, commitment and always love.
Thanks for listening.
- Tom
Tucker: “Another New Year”
New Year's was never a day I looked forward to. It was always that weird holiday after Christmas where you didn't get any presents. All my childhood New Year's experiences blur together, into one family dinnertime memory.
Now that I am a bit older, those family dinners don't seem that bad. I'm so tired of making those crucial perfect plans with those crucial perfect friends. I've come to a realization that it's just another day much like Valentine's Day. Not to say I won't partake in the date's said festivities…I'm just not going to expect the best out of either, but still enjoy good times.
Strangely enough, my most sound New Year's was spent with my friends in Unsound. I think that's going to be the route I will continue to take in the future. - Tucker
