Thursday, February 5, 2009

A bit on Second Nature Recordings and another poem

i've been in love with Second Nature Recordings for a while now. their artists always seem to slip into my stereo at the appropriate times. on my way into work, i was spinning The Casket Lottery's Moving Mountains; check out "Keep Searching", from that record. these guys feature Nathan Ellis and Nathan Richardson, both of whom were in the kickass Coalesce with Sean Ingram. they were one of my favorite bands during the latter years of college and i tried to see them on their farewell tour with Small Brown Bike in Chicago at the Fireside Bowl, but the weather was so bad that I had to bail. it's one of the few shows i will always regret not seeing.

anyway, SNR also has/had Rocky Votolato, who made it big enough to sign with Barsuk a few years back (home to Nada Surf's indie records as well as early Death Cab for Cutie releases), but he cut his eyeteeth on the the smaller, Kansas City label. i had the chance to preform an embarrassing, drunken interview with Rocky in Chicago at the Metro back in 2006, the transcript of which can be found here. so Rocky has put out some amazing records, including my personal favorite, Makers, which is another release that is constantly popping up at interesting times in my life. check out the tune "Portland is Leaving." So, while Rocky is great on his own, he was also TREMENDOUS in the spacey, post-hardcore band Waxwing. Their album One for the Ride is reminiscent of Sunny Day Real Estate mixed with a bit of southern influence; simply amazing and unique stuff. My personal favorite, and quite possibly one of my favorite songs of all time, would have to be "All My Prophets."

i guess, when you get down to it, i just miss how consistent some labels used to be. labels like Vagrant, Sub Pop and Equal Vision were always putting out quality releases, so much so, that you wanted to check out the entire roster. i feel like so few labels do that these days. ohh, well.

so, to round off this post, here's another poem. i think it's time resurrect these works and finally put together my long overdue chapbook...i've i actually sit down and edit the things i've done over the last few years, i should have enough. until then, there's this...about my mother:


I stood slightly left of
the bed, her distressed body,
turning on itself, lightly
creased in the middle, allowing
a view of the television.
My brother, sitting
silent at its foot, her feet,
suspending himself
in the moments on screen,
a tremor in his fingers
as he hurried them through his hair.

Every few minutes,
after a funny line
from one of the
characters, she tried to
laugh; forcing the air
from her lungs,
coughing, with a smile,
as it tumbled from behind
tired, tight lips – a leaden sound,
full of nothing but exhaustion.
Her burdened hand woke
slowly from the position
at her side, making its way
across the wool blanket
that kept in the warmth,
finding the relief it sought in the
metal button controlling the drip.

Eyes closed completely, she settled
her brown, matted hair against a
pillow, breath slowing and winding
its way down. Her free hand, searching
for mine, slid across the blanket –
a request, tattered and full of
static, whispering its way into
the air: “Take your brother home,
he’s seen enough. Sleep well angel.”
I lowered my own hand upon hers,
chattering of sitcoms filled the silence,
the feeling of not knowing, of being
helpless, finally rose,
like water,
above my head.

No comments:

Post a Comment