2001-07-21 - 4:14 p.m. - notes to the underground.

does anybody here remember rock and roll radio?

you know, when music was important and brought the blood in your veins to a boil than eased it down to the temperature of water that sits in your room for three days warming and cooling with the click of an air conditioner.

i remember rock and roll.

last night i was listening to the big smashing pumpkins cd with like a hundred songs on it and its two discs. and i was thinking about how the music is too young to be classic but too old to be cool. and really there are some incredible things on the record that you just don't hear in popular music anymore. like raw electric guitar parts dancing slightly out of time against the whine/scream vocals of an egomaniac.

and where is rock and roll radio?

i know only a handful of bands that make the music that burns our blood and soothes our skin. why doesn't anyone care about them anymore.

you're all too busy swooning over the cute and "oh so emotional" boys who sing songs about girls, like dashboard confessional and saves the day, and really they are nothing more than glorified makeout bands. something a little edgier than the teen beat pop that is conquering the hearts of the oppressed youth of today but not nearly as intelligent or subversive as they would lead you to believe. or wait. a big yes to subversive. subverting the underground into main stream core values. if you want a one man show that shakes the ground beneath yer feet check out ted leo or dead wood divine(does he even make music anymore?) and if you want punk rock that makes you think and feel check out lovesick, fugazi, the explosion or even old lifetime records.

i find myself increasingly frustrated by my surroundings. every thing i value and respect i can only find in handfuls which i then thrust into my pockets to keep them as close to me as possible.

tomorrow we will run faster.

drive faster.

don't walk.

fucking run.

when you write: show don't tell.

accept constructive criticism. it is the only way you will improve.

think critically about everything around you. that is how we remain alive.

make every breath count.

"you hair is everywhere" thats what motherfucking scissors are for.

im not bitter im just angry.

philosophy is religion for the weaker.

to the boys at bills after the show:

someday your tattoos will keep you from being happy. you will have to wear turtle necks for the rest of yer life if you ever want to work and they will only remind you that you used to be young. what does that chinese symbol mean anyway?

and someday all sound will miss your ears and move slightly through the three inch hole in your ear lobe.

image is nothing.

stop identifying.

wear the clothes in yer closet.

stop pretending.

don't talk to me about objectification look what yer doing to yourself.

you have made yourself an object to be interpreted and judged and advertised to.

you are just like everyone else with an extra added teaspoon of self-mutilation thrown in for shock value.

im not that angry. just frustrated. i find myself wondering why people can't just be. why they need to identify. i used to do it. excessively. now i desire nothing more than to be.

sometimes i hate myself when i write vitriolic entries in here. i feel guilty at all my rage.

then i realize that this is the reason i have this page. to get it all out.

xoxo.

listen to: soophie nun squad, lovesick, aloha, The Smashing Pumpkins "Disc 2: twighlight to stralight", the white stripes, the owls.

next time: humidity, things we swore we'd never do, and that house across the street from my parents.

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