When do I write in this blog? When Kurt Vonnegut Jr., dies, that's when. I suppose my experience with Vonnegut has been similar to many other curious, searching types' experiences with him. For one, the man more or less taught me how to Read. He made me feel more certain of my own ideas and reassured me that it was okay to question and investigate any and all things, even (perhaps especially) "common sense." Etc. etc. In short, he made me care. It's good that he's finally at rest.

Elsewhere in my life: Todd P recently began booking shows at a venue not three stops from me, a hole-in-the-wall artists' loft off of the Halsey L known as the Silent Barn. It's a really cool place - it's supremely painty and dressed up and makes me feel like there's something small and good happening in Brooklyn still. What's more, I met a cool couple of girls from NYU last time I was there, and I even discovered an okay band, this sampler-perc-vox duo called High Places. Live, these two come off a bit like a placid suburban antidote to Gang Gang Dance - lots of thrum and hitting contact mic-ed things with drum sticks, but with lazy no-frills vox and not much attitude to speak of. On record, they're more just simple kitchen-sink electro pop. The fact that they regularly open for YACHT makes a lot of sense to me.

Speaking of music, I finished a pretty good track today. The track, you'll probably notice, is shot through with the sounds of trains passing by. This is because I live on the M line - I could reach out my window and touch the M train as it passed if I wanted to, it's that close - so I'm including it, even if I don't much like it. It's like writing a short story on candy bar wrappers or toilet paper, I guess. You get to experience the author's terrible prison, where niceties such as clean paper and unpolluted silence are few and far between.

On that note, adieu for now! Feel free to comment on the track. I doubt that anyone reads this journal 'sides my brother, but hey, it's possible.

Ryan
xoxo