Big Bridge Diary: Part 4

by Chen Si

Translated by Spencer Woodman

Chen Si spends his weekends on Big Bridge which crosses China's Yangzte River, attempting to stop people from jumping. This translation of excerpts from his blog will appear on Low Log in four parts.

Read: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

10-20-2008

4:50 p.m. I am patrolling the South Fort section of the Big Bridge, when I notice a woman. She looks several times over the edge of the bridge. I cross the street and come up beside her and try to get her to tell me what was wrong. She just cries. I advise and persuade many women who come to the bridge and they say not one word.

At 6:00 p.m. her cell phone rings and she answers. On the other line is the voice of a man who tells her that he wants her to stay [on earth] and live on. He arrived 15 minutes later and drove her away in his car. He told me that this situation [the attempted suicide] was all the result of a little misunderstanding.


08-17-2008

Tuesday morning: a man darted through the bridge’s traffic and — despite the pleas of onlookers - jumped into the Yangzi. Thursday morning: at the South Castle section, a young man plunged off the Big Bridge and died on the spot as he hit the concrete below. Friday morning: a young woman at the South Castle section jumped into the Yangzi, hit just by the water’s edge. She died on the spot.


06-22-2008

A middle aged man, standing right by an armed guard jumped off the bridge. His body was found in a flowerbed.

Visit Chen Si at his blog.
Contact Spencer at jwoodman@gm.slc.edu.

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Interview with Sam Herring: Part 2

by Ida Griesemer

I met Sam Herring, the front man of Future Islands, on April 4th before his show at Glasslands. We strolled around a corner and sat on a little ledge and talked for a little while. This is the second and final part of the interview.

View: Part 1

LL: Who was writing the songs?
SH: Gerrit and William worked out the songs, and then I would come in and write to them. It was never successful with me writing words first and then coming to those guys, because I don't know how to speak in music language. And that kind of goes back to my hip-hop roots of freestyle, feeling a song, feeling how it makes me feel and translating that emotion into words. And also just riffing off something. Because usually when we play songs live they aren't completely written yet. It's kind of fractured. I'll have a chorus, or a first verse and a chorus, and we'll just play it and see what comes out of my mouth. If there's melodies that work I might hold on to them.
LL: So a lot of it is improvisation?
SH: Well, definitely in the beginning process of writing songs it's a lot of improv and I don't wanna say jamming, but definitely jamming and feeling things out. I mean, Gerrit's the principal songwriter now. Because now that we don't have a drummer - for the last year and a half we haven't had a drummer – so Gerrit's had to do double duty. He's doing drum programming and keyboards. That allows him to go in and take over the structure. And then William comes in. It used to be that Eric would kick something simple and those guys would work together and figure something out, but now Gerrit's taken that over. That's been interesting because Gerrit has his own mode. But it's good because we really just need things to write with. For me, I just need some music.
LL: How did the more pop feeling come about? You said that it was a little bit sloppy at first, but did it become something that you were all very comfortable with and excited about?
SH: Well, I don't know. It was always kind of shaky. I mean it was fun, no doubt. Our first band was three keyboards and a bass guitar. And then we immediately went from having the electronic drum beat to having a live drummer behind us. And for me personally, as a performer, that propelled me in a different way. I was already very charismatic and frenetic lead singer, but having the drums was dynamite under me. It became more of a punk band at first. It was much faster and much – William's bass playing style changed a lot in the very beginning. But we slowly started writing deeper songs, with Eric. But I really feel like it was after Eric left, when we got back to the three of us, that we started writing at the pace that we wanted with the songs. Future Islands really sped up. But we'd always been a pop band. Since the beginning we were making pop. Even if we weren't trying or didn't realize it, we were making pop music. It was like, catchy choruses and keyboards and dance-y drum beats – stuff like that. It was interesting for me because it allowed me more space to go as a performer, having the drums behind me. Because when that got taken away, when we were without a drummer after two years of having one, it felt really alien to not have that behind me anymore. And then I had to fight to get back to who I was before. And then I've finally found a medium between then. That power, and also that poise, as a performer. To move like I have a drum kit behind me. To know what that was like helps me to tap into that. So that's important, to me personally. I've never really thought about that before.
LL: What brought you to Baltimore?
SH: The Wham City scene. Those are really good friends of ours. Of course Dan Deacon, who is the most instrumental member of Wham City. I think the first time we played with Dan was either late 2003 or early 2004. So it was right in the beginning of Art Lord. And you know, when we got into town there were only a couple bands that were really doing anything. Valiant Thor who is now a huge warp tour band, they were like touring with Motorhead and they've done tours with the Misfits, just like, really crazy shit. They were the dudes who had been around town for a while and they were like the band. Then there was the Kick Ass, who I was a big fan of. Instrumental. At their best, they sounded like Tortoise. Really intricate metal. It's kind of like jazz-metal. And then we came along, and the scene was kind of dead and we started something up. Just started up a house party scene again. Because there had been one in the past, but nobody was really doing anything. So we started a band because we wanted to play a party, play for our friends and bring people together. So we started a small scene, a house party scene, and became pretty quickly – thanks to the Kick Ass, they put us on our first club bill, opening for them in Greeneville – and we started to get a following. So when Dan came around, his first time a guy in town booked him and asked if we would headline the show to bring this guy in. This weird noise guy. And that's when we met Dan. It was his first tour ever. We didn't really become friends that night. We met, and he enjoyed our set. It was kind of funny, because his set was so weird to me. It was different than anything I had heard or seen, and it was just kind of like – I didn't know what to make of it. And it wasn't until another six months after that when we played with him at this noise fest in Hampton, Virginia at this place called the Rat's Ward that I got to see him perform as a performer. That’s the thing – Dan's taken back the stage now, come to present time, but until we were on that tour with him this time last year, he hadn't performed on a stage in something like four or five years. He would be out in the crowd. And you don't really get to see Dan, but he was one of my favorite performers. Extremely - he just had so much energy and movement, and was a very strange, enigmatic character, like he is. But I was really drawn to that and we became friends doing that thing. And he started coming down to Greenville a lot because he was blown away by Greenville that first time, and then the subsequent times, because we had something really interesting going. We did tours with him and we would play to nobody, but in Greenville, you know, we were kings. And Dan would come and we'd just have these crazy parties and just have a good time. So we became really good friends. And then basically he moved to Baltimore in the beginning of '05 or late '04, and shortly after that we did our last tour as Art Lord and the Self Portraits with Dan. And then we broke up. Even back then he was pushing us to move to Baltimore. That was at the very beginning of Wham City and Baltimore. It was kind of an entity before it was in Baltimore, at SUNY Purchase. So we eventually just got to Baltimore. When I moved to Baltimore, I thought that Future Islands was just gonna break up, because I was living in Ashville, North Carolina, Gerrit was in Greenville, William was in Raleigh. We weren't making any music. Eric had quit the band. Partly because I was a dickhead. It was a bad thing. I kinda fucked up. And I just thought it wasn't gonna happen, because Gerrit didn't want to move. He didn't want to move to Baltimore. And I was like, "I'm gonna move to Baltimore and I'm gonna start a new band and I'm gonna do my thing. There's musicians there, I'm gonna go do that. This is what I want with my life." And then William's like, "Oh, I'm gonna do that too!" And we're like, "Awesome! We can start a band!" So William actually beat me up there, he got there in November '07 and I got that January '08 and then shortly after that Gerrit split up with his long time girlfriend and was like, lonely as fuck in Greenville, North Carolina. And we're like, "Move to Baltimore!" and against his will power he moved to Baltimore. And things have been great for us. It really changed – well of course we're all finally in the city for the first time in almost two years. I was cleaned up, doing really good, was happy about stuff, and had my friends again. And it was interesting because I had to re-learn that friendship. My oldest friends, but it was kind of weird at first because I had been away for so long. I mean you know, you change, you grow. It's weird to think, because I'm turning 26 next month, but that was only – I was 23 when I moved to Baltimore. Because I felt so much older. I felt like an old man. But I wasn't that old. So we got up there and things were cool. We had a lot of friends. It was mainly because of the friends, and just knowing that something was going on there. But it really helped us because we didn't really fit into North Carolina. We were always just seen as this weird dance band, because we were a dance band and there aren't really a lot of dance bands in North Carolina. Or bands that don't use a guitar. Everybody would write us up and write us off as weirdo, bizarre musicians. And then when we got to Baltimore is was like, "These guys are the new serious guys in Wham City." And we were like, "Whoaaa! We're serious, man!" We were so happy. And now we go back to North Carolina and they're like, "The prodigal sons have returned! They're coming back!" So we get a lot of respect now. But it was like, us going away was us trying to get out of a comfort zone. Trying to get out of that comfort zone of our college town, or our hometown, or anything that would suck us in. And Baltimore kind of put us on edge. We were a little afraid when we moved there. We were all afraid. Not only of the city but just of the circumstances and being outside a comfort zone, and that propelled us and pushed us to do something. But also it a little bit pushed us to get out of the city and go on tour! Hahaha. But also made us stronger friends, because we had each other. I do feel that that element of fear or that element of struggle does bring people together and creates strong bonds between people. You know, when you're all in it together. I mean, just getting by in general. Then again, in New York I can only imagine it's so much harder to get by because it's so fucking expensive. Baltimore is chill as far as that goes. Prices are still pretty low. I mean it is going up, because there's a lot of gentrification going on too. A ton of gentrification. So the city's being cleaned up. And that's good and bad.
It really did work. We were trying to be more serious. We went to Baltimore and we just went on tour. In the first year and half that we were there, we were gone for a year of that on the road. And that was what we wanted to be doing. We didn't have jobs, we were out of school, our girlfriends had left. It was like, "This is your life now." So it was kinda interesting.
LL: Has Baltimore remained a city that has a lot to offer for you as a creative community?
SH: Yeah. You've got the school feeding a lot of that. You've always got fresh, young kids, art students coming in, and they start their band or grab a warehouse spot and they're always making art or going to shows, and that's important. But then again, there's a huge transplant just from the outs, and I didn't really know where that started. I mean, I still feel new to Baltimore. We've only been there two years. I definitely can't speak for Baltimore, like what the city is or what it has been, because I am still one of the newbies. It's interesting. Like my friend Denny from Double Dagger, the drummer, he's one of the only musicians in Baltimore I know that is from Baltimore. And he tells me crazy stories about going to shows when he was 13, 14, 15. Just kinda wild.
It really is a hub. You have to pass through Baltimore going between the South and New York. It's always been a hub. But there's tons of musicians, a lot of artists, interesting people. People are doing things, and that's what's cool. There's always something going on. Sometimes you have to get out. I miss North Carolina a lot. We definitely won't get out of Baltimore for a little while. But we do all miss the South. That vibe. If we moved back home now it would be a bad move. We'd fall into old spells. But it's comforting. Like, "One day I shall return."

Ida is one of the founders and editors of this website. She tweets for Low Log and also has a tumblr. You can contact her at idajane[at]gmail.com.

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Big Bridge Diary: Part 3

by Chen Si

Translated by Spencer Woodman

Chen Si spends his weekends on Big Bridge which crosses China's Yangzte River, attempting to stop people from jumping. This translation of excerpts from his blog will appear on Low Log in four parts.

Read: Part 1, Part 2

02-25-2009

A middle aged man jumped to his death from the South Castle section of the Big Bridge. It was said that when he was discovered, he was still grasping a family portrait photograph.


02-25-2009

Those who choose to jump off the bridge to their deaths have a very high success rate. Oh, what we must deal with in life! Some people [who plunge off the bridge] leave almost no trace — in an instant they are buried beneath the waters of the Yangzi.


10-25-2008

10:40 a.m. I am patrolling the South Fort section of the Big Bridge when I see a middle aged man about 200 meters toward the South Castle on the eastern side of the bridge. Half of his body is hanging off over the bridge’s ledge. I sprinted vigorously toward him. I managed to take hold of his right leg only and managed to pull him back onto the bridge and restrained him on the ground. For a long time he did not communicate, not a word. He just [sat there and] nervously bit his lips, which began to bleed.

Visit Chen Si at his blog.
Contact Spencer at jwoodman@gm.slc.edu.

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Big Bridge Diary: Part 2

by Chen Si

Translated by Spencer Woodman

Chen Si spends his weekends on Big Bridge which crosses China's Yangzte River, attempting to stop people from jumping. This translation of excerpts from his blog will appear on Low Log in four parts.

Read: Part 1

02-07-10

8:10 a.m. I arrive at the Big Bridge.

9:10 a.m. I see a preschool boy standing on the bridge’s parapet. The
little guy is arguing with his stepmother. I plead with him, then pull
him down off the ledge. I give him a good talking to. His parents are
off in Hongtaiyang city doing business.

What will happen [on the bridge] this afternoon? I don’t know. My
heart is awfully heavy.

Let us gaze upon the passage of another year, the arrival of another
spring. For saving people from the Big Bridge, spring is the most
frightening part of each year.

I wish for this magnificent Big Bridge to see no more tragedies! I
wish that every inch of our world will brim with goodness and harmony!


09-19-2009

8:30 a.m. I am patrolling when I discover a middle age woman, her
face filled with tears, pacing about unevenly. It is my sixth
anniversary of saving people on the bridge, so I’m wearing my special
red shirt that reads: treat life well every day. I thought I better
not let this woman go misunderstood, so I walked beside her and began
to speak with her. She was highly anguished, and, in an instant,
climbed up on the bridges ledge. I pulled her off the parapet and had
to punch her several times [to subdue her]. This attracted many
onlookers.


05-17-2008

5:20 p.m. A young man jumped off the big bridge. He died immediately
on impact. One of his legs separated from his body completely. Another
meaningless life!


10-30-2008

Presently our [society’s] physiological crisis has reached a new
high. I have decided that I will buy a small moped to assist me in
addressing this urgent crisis.

Visit Chen Si at his blog.
Contact Spencer at jwoodman@gm.slc.edu.

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Interview with Sam Herring: Part 1

by Ida Griesemer

I met Sam Herring, the front man of Future Islands, on April 4th before his show at Glasslands. We strolled around a corner and sat on a little ledge and talked for a little while. I told him I grew up in New Hampshire and so he started out by telling me about his experience there seeing "one of the greatest musical performances" he's ever seen. The interview will appear in two parts. Sam and the band will be back in town this weekend to play a show at Silent Barn on Saturday, June 12th.

View: Part 2

LL: What was the crowd in Portsmith like?
SH: It was awesome. There was this band called the Texas Governor. It's a really interesting story. The guy who was the Texas Governor, his band, he had this band in the mid 90s in Boston called the Elevator Drops, and they were getting kinda big, they were touring with Blur, it was either Blur or Oasis. When they were big in the U.S. they were opening for them, and when they got into Texas - cause Dave grew up in New Hampshire – as Dave tells the story, he was blown away by all the space. And he decided right then and there that he was gonna move back to New Hampshire and marry his girlfriend. He wanted to be a father and a husband. So he quit the band in the middle of this tour, that probably would have made them take off, and then he later did the Texas Governor as a solo project. But so, the whole crazy thing was that William, our bassist, was a huge fan of the Texas Governor in high school, because he saw them open for some band, either a Frank Black show or a Smashing Pumpkins show, he saw them open and it blew him away. So William contacted him, and asked if he would play with us, so dude set up a show, and the whole thing was we got there and we thought we were gonna meet this guy, this big star, and he was just this older really sad looking guy. And he tells us this crazy story about how he just had to take his step son that day to the insane asylum, because he had a breakdown, and he's saying it in this deadpan. And we had just met him and we're like 18, 19 years old like, "Oh, man! I'm so sorry!" And then he's like, "Oh, I'm just joking," and we're like, "Haha…uhh," and he's like, "No, I really did have to do that, " and we're like, "OH FUCK!" And it was crazy, because we played in this upstairs bar. It was the first show he's playing in 2 years and he'd assembled a band just for this show, just because William was this huge fan. But it really cool though, because we became good friends with him, and because of that show he started doing more stuff and was really inspired by us, because we were making weird pop music, and he got more into writing pop songs again and having a good time with music. The show was in the Red Room in Portsmith, New Hampshire, and it was one of the greatest musical performances I've ever seen. It was really watching a man who was affected. Because we knew that he was hurting, and he still went on with the show. He was a true performer. I can only imagine seeing him in his prime. I got to see him later, but that night seeing him was like seeing a man break down. Fuckin'… It was really powerful. I mean, I try to channel that with my own performance, and I was very young at the time and impressionable, and that has always struck a chord with me, watching that show. It was amazing.
LL: Did you stay in touch with him or see him perform another time after that?
SH: Yeah, we played up in New Hampshire at least two or three more times with him, and those guys also put us on in Boston once and did a big show with us. And that was pretty cool because at that time hadn't really – and I'm trying to think – that was Future Islands. That was a Future Islands show.
LL: Where were you living at this point?
SH: This was when we were still in college in North Carolina. We were like, freshmen in college during this first tour.
LL: What was your school like in North Carolina?
SH: It was a public university. East Carolina University. Me and Gerrit, the keyboardist, we grew up together, we were best friends in high school, on the coast of North Carolina. All three of us in Future Islands are from North Carolina. Me and Gerrit grew up in a small town called Morehead City on the coast, and Willam's from a small town called Wendell. And so me and Gerrit went off to the same school. We never made music together in high school. Gerrit made music. I was into hip hop. I was an mc, and went off to college I was trying to find somebody to make beats for me, and me and William met because we have all the same art classes. ECU is a big school. It's now the 2nd biggest college in North Carolina, which is kinda crazy because it's in a small town. The town in maybe twice the size of what the university is, like the town in maybe 40 or 50 thousand, and the school is now like 30 thousand, it was like 25 when I got in. And so we went to school, and me and William met, and I found out that he made weird music, and he gave me a cd that he had made that summer called Computerness, it was one those 2 and half inch CDs, they're like the little discs. I don't even know if they make them anymore. It was a really cool thing when they came out. They had like 22 minutes of music. And William made this album that was 38 tracks, 22 minutes, called Computerness. It was a really weird album. It was kinda like Kraftwerk making music on the first Apple computer, or like, Kraftwerk's little brother making it. Like Ralf and Florian's cousins got together and made this music on their first apple, and it blew me away. Me and William started shooting off ideas, we were instant friends, very similar in what we wanted to do. So me and William had the idea and we started the first band and Gerrit came in really right after we started. We played one show and Gerrit was in, and that was as a five piece at that time. Kim was one of the musicians, and she's the girl who does our artwork, she lives in New York, she's a working artist, and an amazing artist, but she went off to graduate school and we kept going. And then our friend Beeby, who when he left Greenville after two and half years of hard work, we moved on and started Future Islands. The first band was Art Lord and the Self Portraits.
LL: So that Computerness album really struck a chord with you.
SH: Well you know, when you're 18 you're very impressionable and just into everything. And it was something different that I heard. We didn't really listen to the same things. He was really into 80s music and dance music, and I just listened to hip hop and jazz, and was just getting into post-rock like Tortoise. Lots of underground west coast hip-hop. Global Floatations, Freestyle Fellowship, CVE, a lot of weird things, and then jazz and stuff. But it was kind of that thing like, William turned me on to Kraftwerk, and I had heard of Kraftwerk but I'd never heard their music really, but I knew that Kraftwerk was the band that the first break came from. I knew the history of hip-hop. I was deep into hip-hop, and I knew that Afrika Bambaataa created the first break using that song to create Planet Rock. So I was like, "Kraftwerk! Yeah! Those dudes started hip-hop!" And William's like, "No…I didn't know that."
LL: Right. So you were making the connections. How did Future Islands, as it is now, come to be?
SH: When we started Future Islands that was the very beginning of 2006. And then actually the Texas Governor comes back into play. Art Lords started in February of '03 and we played a few shows, and when our keyboardist left - because it was the three of us and then our friend Adam Beeby – when he left town in September of '05, so we had been together for two and a half years, we just decided to quit doing Art Lord. It was a concept band and we were trying to get away from that and be more serious. Honestly, I wanted to keep going with Art Lord, but Gerrit wanted to get out of it. I think Gerrit felt like it was holding us back. And then William kind of sided with Gerrit. And then it was just the three of us, and we try to run as a democracy so I said, "Whatever. I just want to make music with you guys. I don't wanna fight over –"
LL: What did they want to do?
SH: Well, the whole thing with Art Lord was that I, you know, was a character on stage. I spoke in a German accent. I slicked back my hair. I played this character. It was a performance. And you know, my character wasn't – he was kind of a silly, asexual, narcissist figure. Just in love with himself, knowing that the world loved him. It was fun. It's a very fun thing to do.
LL: Was acting something you were interested in?
SH: I was interested in acting, but when I went to school I was trying to study performance art. I was wanting to get into conceptual art. I applied to a lot of – ECU is the only public school I applied to. I applied to San Francisco Art Institute, the Art Institute of Chicago, MICA in Baltimore, where we live now. I was accepted into those schools but couldn't afford it in the end, didn't get enough scholarships to make so my parents wouldn't die. So I went to ECU. I'm glad now, but at the time it was hard for me to settle, because I had really high hopes. And ECU didn't help me with that. They're much more of a technical school. A great fine arts school. I had some really good teachers. I only really had one teacher who pushed me in a conceptual way, and I had him later in school. I dropped out after three and a half years. Art Lord ended. I had some really bad drug problems. Future Islands started up shortly after that in February of '06. That was like four or five months after I dropped out.
LL: So you left school, and then you reunited at some point?
SH: Well, it's really funny. So, in August of '05, right before our keyboardist left town and we ended Art Lord, William was talking with the Texas Governor about them coming down, because they always put us up when we play in the Northeast, but they had never come down. So William told them in August that we were gonna set up this tour for them to come down South and play with us. Then the next month Beeby left town, we broke up Art Lord, and we forgot that these guys were still expecting to tour in January or February. So they called up William in January and were like, "We're wondering how the tour's coming. Have you booked some shows?" And William's like, "Fuuuuck! I forgot! I forgot! We broke up. We're not playing together anymore." And they're like, "What?!" And we're like, "We'll get something together." So Future Islands started - out of necessity. Exactly. So we had this friend Eric who was a bassist in this technical metal band called the Kick Ass, it was in Greenville, North Carolina. And we loved Eric because he was a metal head but loved our music. Him and his girlfriend would always be in the front row dancing their asses off at our shows. So we're like, "This metal dude!" And he's an insane bassist. Amazing. But he always wanted to play drums for us. So we call up Eric and we're like, "We have to get this band together. Do you still want to play?" And he's like, "Yeah!" And the funny thing is that he had never really played drums before. He had this old electronic Simmons drum kit from like '84 or '85, which is like if you see those old videos, that's what the guys rock. They're the hexagonal pads. So it's the perfect look. Still electronic, but live. So I was working at the time as a dishwasher, and those guys got together, Gerrit, William, and Eric, and started writing songs. Then I came in one day and heard what they were doing. We basically wrote six songs in a week and a half. And did a tour a week and a half later. Just did it. And that's how Future Islands started. It was kind of this forced thing. It started off a little weird. Because Art Lord had started off as a joke, and then it became serious. It was supposed to be a conceptual art piece where I was playing this character. It was supposed to be social commentary on how we treat our pop icons and our rock stars and our art stars. And it actually works. Because the whole thing was that I was supposed to be this huge dickhead who's in love with himself and just talked down to people. And people loved it. They were just like, "This is great. This is hilarious. This is awesome." And then my character became a much sweeter, kinder, ridiculous egotist. It was hard for me to be a dickhead to my friends. The first couple shows I was trying to be rude, but it was funny, so I would just laugh. But then it got really serious because once we got past the concept and we wrote all the songs without the concept like "Little Line Drawing" and "Art School Dropout" and "Too Many Artists" and many other songs. We got into our personal feelings. And the musicians got better. Gerrit had never played keyboards before Art Lord, and now he's a fucking wizard. William had never played bass before; he'd just played guitar. Beeby had never played any instrument. I'd never played any instruments. I'd never sung in a band before. So we were just kind of feeling it out and learning things. But then Future Islands started, and it just started really fast, kind of sloppy. Really basic pop music. Synth pop.

View: Part 2

Contact Ida at idajane@gmail.com.

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Big Bridge Diary: Part 1

by Chen Si

Translated by Spencer Woodman

Chen Si spends his weekends on Big Bridge which crosses China's Yangzte River, attempting to stop people from jumping. This translation of excerpts from his blog will appear on Low Log in four parts.

07-11-09

Today at 2:50, just as I was patrolling from the North Castle to the South Castle bridge section, I saw a person by the Peasants Workers and Soldiers Statue. He suddenly bounded over the bridge’s parapet and jumped. I stopped my car, jumped out and looked over the parapet after him. He had hit the concrete and lay completely motionless on the ground below, in South Castle Park, by the water’s edge. The police came to discover his head completely broken, its blood and brains flowing out. The police used newspapers to cover the corpse. He was a very young man.


01-30-10

3:10: I am patrolling the South Castle section of the Big Bridge when I see a middle aged man, lying horizontal, his body already mostly off the bridges ledge. His still grasps his luggage. I sneak up behind him, pull him off the parapet, and hold him. Unfortunately, his luggage plummets off the bridge. He smells strongly of alcohol.

This week alone, six people have jumped off this bridge to their deaths.


03-21-10

Yesterday at 3:05 as I was patrolling the bridge I saved a young man. I discovered he had had quite a lot to drink. He wanted to jump over the bridge’s ledge. I sat and talked with him, and found that his story is quite funny. He promised his wife 200 Yuan out of his 1,400 Yuan salary for spending money. He and his wife had argued much throughout the past few days. He thought suicide would show her for sure, and ensure he would never have to pay her another cent. I sent him home.

Visit Chen Si at his blog.
Contact Spencer at jwoodman@gm.slc.edu.

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National Bison Range Wildlife Refuge and Missoula, MT

by Gay Nichols

click images to enlarge

2010
digital print
640 x 426 pixels

Contact Gay at gaynichols@gmail.com.

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Franks

by Ida Griesemer

She could be grumpy, Mrs. Franks.
Her hair was a gray helmut that she wore
inside, but I don't forget the sparkle
in her eye. The year they filled

Her lab with colored globes.
Those artifacts of the first person.

Something must have happened
to the computer-makers.
Some giddy delight in their own
clairvoyance. That made them want

To turn every typing tank into a toy
store. We can do this, they said, know-how
spilling over. We'll make these machines
from inflatable air chairs. We'll put our lips

To the power cord and exhale. They're gonna
blow up. Franks will go nuts. We'll have every
gray hair standing when she reclines
on this furniture. We've been to the future

And we're bringing back lava lamps.
Maybe it was the transparency
that did it for her. Was that it?

She could see right to the guts
of those cheerful medicine balls.

Mario claimed he could teach us typing
but she had ideas about why he couldn't.
The boats were better, she said.
She made us row for our words.

Oh, Mrs. Franks. Some days she was tired.
Some days all she could do was list
everything we didn't know
on the whiteboard. Some days we were rats

And she was a lone scientist.
She was a mechanic.

She taught us about engines, she led the
search. What did we know about spelunking?
Rowing was one thing, but…

I want to tell her,
thanks. I met Google through her.
After class - an accidental facial
expression, a look of interest -

I stumbled into a private lesson.
There are many, she said, But this
is the one I like. A plain page. A baby
name. Another psychic nerd

Playing a joke on the world. Goo
googaga from the mouth of a grown
woman. Eyes really lit this time, drool
clinging to the strap of her helmut.

Thank you, thank you, Mrs. Franks. It was
an important thing for me to know
it turns out.

Ida is one of the founders and editors of this website. She tweets for Low Log and also has a tumblr. You can contact her at idajane[at]gmail.com.

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Untitled 17

by Brian Castriota

click to enlarge

2009
chromogenic print
16 x 20 inches

Visit Brian at briancastriota.com.

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howler

by Ariella Ruth

howler dear
it could be wilt
metal that hangs
in center beats

that aren’t purple but harm
small hairs on insides
of your ears never

can be bent up straight
again the flowers

turn south to face
browning water open
their small mouths
to cherry wood i bought

you because no one
would

not buy
you i mean but give
to me it snows

on you the hills
on dullness beat
drums
howler beat
my ear
drums

Contact Ariella at ariellaruth@gmail.com.

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Hell

by Nate Blanco

Interview by Michael Pollock

Download - Hell

"Death," another song by Nate, was posted last week along with part 1 of the interview.

Listen: Death

LL: Are there real instruments on “Hell?”
NB: There’s a drum in the background, and everything else is just my voice. I recorded the drum part first - it’s a big floor tom - then I layered vocal parts on top of it
LL: How many layers are there? Because it gets intense at parts.
NB: At one point I think there’s 5 layers. At most points there’s 2-3 going at a time
LL: Do you do that on your computer as well or do you do layer it on a recorder?
NB: It’s all done on my computer. I use garage band, which is surprisingly good for the kind of stuff that I do.
LL: Can you tell me about your website, Digital Cassette Records?
NB: Yeah, this is a website that we just started, maybe about a month ago. For a while, in this very room, a lot of us have been playing music, completely improv, just jamming out mostly. My friend Nick and I, we invite people over all the time. We record jams - a lot of them are pretty good and we want to be able to release them and get people to hear them. We used to release CDs. We were making good stuff that wasn’t realistic to release as CDs. It’s a lot of work for me and I’m not that good at promoting or giving people CDs or trying to sell them.
LL: Not good on the street?
NB: No, not at all. So I thought having a place where people could come hear the tracks, where I could post stuff on a regular basis would be a really great thing to have.
LL: The people that you mostly play with are close friends? Do they live here?
NB: Mostly close friends. My friend Nick who is the person I play with the most often, he did live here until 2 weeks ago. Sometimes it’s just him and me. The other people who are regulars are close friends and a few solid people who come kind of often but other times it’s just random people. One day Nick met this girl in the street. He was working at this canvassing job and met this girl and invited her to come over. She brought her friend and instruments. That was actually one of the best jams we ever had. Pretty magical. That jam was the inspiration for the song “Hell.” At one part during this jam we were all so on and on the same page. Three different people are playing guitars and other people are playing hand drums and everyone is singing at the same time. I just started improvising the lyrics that became the song “Hell.” I was singing them in the same way, I think that was one of the best parts of the night. I wish that would have been recorded. That jam session was actually not recorded. The recording of the song “Hell” was me trying to recreate it. I really like it because I was impressed with my own lyrics and ideas and wanted to remember them.
LL: When I heard “Hell,” I wasn’t sure if it was you or not.
NB: Which happens a lot with me. Even with songs where I think I’m singing in my normal voice I’ve had people who listened to it many times and knew that I made the song but they ask, ‘Who is that singing on there?’ or ‘Did you write the lyrics or did he write them?’ I’m like, ‘That’s me, you’ve know me for years you don’t recognize my voice?’
LL: Like, ‘Thanks, Mom!’ Does your mom listen to your music?
NB: I don’t know. I’ve given her CDs. Whether she listens to them or not, I don’t know.
LL: So she hasn’t given you feedback?
NB: Not really, except for the standard mom things like, ‘That’s great.’
LL: ‘That’s so professional’ is my mom’s favorite.
NB: Right. I don’t know if you’re saying that, Mom, or if you’re just saying it because that’s what you do as a mom or if you actually listen to it. But I also feel like, how could she possibly not like it because she is such a mom she’s going to love anything I do even though I don’t think it’s music that she would normally ever listen to.

Contact Nate at nathanblanco@gmail.com.

Contact Michael at michaeljpollock@gmail.com.

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Baby2

by Tisch Abelow

click to enlarge

2008
Oil on Canvas

27 x 19 inches

Visit Tisch at www.tischabelow.com.

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Death

by Nate Blanco

Interview by Michael Pollock

Download - Death

I talked to Nate about his music in his Brooklyn apartment while his roommate hammered at a guitar pedal, trying to fix it. "Hell" will be posted next week along with part 2 of the interview.

LL: When did you record these songs?
NB: They were made at a similar point. They are actually recorder a few days a part. So “Death” was recorded a couple days before Christmas, then “Hell” was recorded a couple days after Christmas while I was in Pennsylvania at my mom’s house.
LL: Are they Christmas songs?
NB: I wouldn’t say so. I wouldn’t say that Christmas feels like death or hell to me. I kind of enjoy it, but some people might get a kick out of that.
LL: Are they home songs? Do you think you wrote them because you were at home or were they something you were thinking about before and that is just when you happened to have time?
NB: “Death” was definitely just on the spot. I was actually having a pretty crappy day. It was the first full day I had been home. I had gotten there the day before and no one else was there yet and I was really bored all day. I couldn’t leave the house because I didn’t have a car to use so all I was doing was watching T.V. and using the Internet. I started to feel a little crazy by the nighttime and couldn’t sleep. I was almost going out of my mind and needed a way to channel it I guess. Something to do to distract me from the way I was going crazy and it all went into the song.
LL: How did you make the song?
NB: The song is done in two parts - both parts were completely improvised. The part that I did first is the noise that you hear.
LL: The static?
NB: Yeah that’s done on the spot with my computer. It’s actually a recording of a bunch of different videos and I was switching back and forth between them really quickly. I was trying to make something out of it, kind of in that death mind frame that I was in, kind of going crazy on it. And then I improvised the piano on my computer.
LL: So it was all done on the computer?
NB: It was all done on my computer, yeah. None of those sounds are real instruments.

Contact Nate at nathanblanco@gmail.com.

Contact Michael at michaeljpollock@gmail.com.

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Fabric

by Jack Rohman

click to enlarge

2009
ink on paper
8 1/2 x 11 inches

Visit Jack at tahturc.blogspot.com.

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The Nighttime Stomach

by Molly Goldman

When he falls asleep I know it’s because he’s lying
   on the boring side of my face.

I don’t sleep. I crouch inside of myself
   and talk gently to the dog that looks like Lassie

who lives in the nighttime stomach.
   Her head is tilted sideways like it’s missing

a stitch. What is it, Girl? I follow her
   through the wet newspaper tunnel of my intestines.

Someone could be trapped in there.
  Is it trouble at the well?

My impulses move like iridescent fruit flies
   against a stain glass backdrop. It’s like I’m trespassing

through some hollow church and flinching
   at the echo of my footsteps. The stomach

is a jar glowing with swarms of red
   candles. Lassie leads me

to a familiar chalkboard in there. Last night,
   I stayed late and wrote believe me,

believe me, two hundred times. When the words
   are erased I can use the dust to dry everything up.

On the outside, a toothbrush lies
   down in the medicine cabinet. A drawer hangs

open like a child peering over a bridge.
   The stairs stack themselves in darkness.

Contact Molly at mollyrosegoldman@gmail.com.

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Granny Smith

by Brian Goldstein

Download - Granny Smith

click to enlarge

2008
collage on cardboard
4 x 6 inches

Visit Brian at brianadamant.bandcamp.com.

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Interview with Luka Usmiani: Part 2

by Ida Griesemer

I talked to Luka (of Fluffy Lumbers and No Demons Here) on Saturday, April 3rd. This is the second half of a 2 part interview.

View: Part 1

LL: Does Liam [the Younger] play in a band, or is he always solo?
LU: He has a band. We're actually playing at Swarthmore. I play bass with him, I think at this point.
LL: What is it called?
LU: It's just, Liam the Younger. I think he comes up with a new name every time, so I don't want to say anything in case it's wrong. My friend Ian Dykstra usually plays drums, but he's in Italy right now so Sam's playing drums for Liam for the time being.
We were all going to go down to South by Southwest, a bunch of us, but it ended up just being Fluffy Lumbers and Big Troubles.
At this point, with this generation who is four years younger than Real Estate and Titus, it's just like, everyone has their own band, and we all play in each other's bands.
LL: That's similar to what they're doing too.
LU: Yeah, that’s true. Fluffy Lumbers and Big Troubles, and then the few times that I've played with a full band, it's the same people. It's Fluffy Lumbers and Big Troubles, with us switched around. Now this new lineup that Liam has, it's two guys from Fluffy Lumbers, and his other guitarist has played in Fluffy Lumbers numerous times, so it's a just a rearranging.
LL: Who are the other similar members between Fluffy Lumbers and Big Troubles, besides you?
LU: Alex Craig plays guitar.
LL: Is he coming tonight?
LU: I don't know. Because there's a Big Troubles show tonight. Hopefully he will come up. My friend Ian Drennan is also in Big Troubles, he's the other half. He usually plays guitar with us, but he lives in Boston, so it's hard for him to come down for shows a lot, so we have my friend Sebastian to fill in for him. And then my friend Ian Dykstra who plays with Liam, used to play drums for us, but he lives in Pennsylvania when he's in school, and now he's in Italy, so we're currently without a drummer. But our friend Andrew came down from Massachusetts to drum for us tonight.
LL: So there's a lot of shuffling happening because everyone's in different places.
LU: Yeah. They're not really bands. They're just projects that we all help out with. It's fun that way. To have a shuffle. To hear Fluffy Lumbers tonight might be different than hearing Fluffy Lumbers ever again.
LL: What was the dynamic like at South by Southwest with the two bands? Was it hard to coordinate?
LU: It wasn't hard to coordinate, because we only had 3 or 4 shows each. It was weird because we were supposed to have a drummer for South by Southwest for Fluffy Lumbers, but he got too high and got caught by the cops and had a lot of court dates, and just said, "I can't do it." So me and Sam tried to do a dual thing with a buttload of pedals. And according to Sam it worked, twice, in New York. And then for some reason it didn't work in Austin, and the shows were mediocre, to say the least. It was very last minute. We tried to organize what we would do, but I feel like it's very hit or miss for how long we practiced, which was not very long. I think we just lucked out the first two times, and the last few times were pretty bad.
LL: Do you think it was the setting too? Do you think there's more support in this area?
LU: Definitely not. I mean, there were a lot of people at the first show at South by Southwest, so I guess the “support” was there. I don't know, I don't find a lot of support in Brooklyn, or anything like that. They just look at you. So you just look back. It's fine.
LL: Was it a different feeling in Texas?
LU: No, not at all. If anything I liked the second show better because I think we played to three people. It was more interesting to watch three people watch us, like actually watch us, than to look at a dark room.
I liked playing shows when we were on tour. I liked playing in Memphis. As Big Troubles we were playing in Memphis, and the kids really like it when a band comes by. In Charleston - this is Fluffy Lumbers now - we played in a t.v. museum. A media museum. We played among old projectors and t.v.'s that they had from the 40s or earlier. We played to like, twenty kids, but all these Charleston kids always hang out. They were really nice. Those were some of the best crowds. They really come out for it.
LL: They're more attentive?
LU: Well, you just feel like you're actually playing for people, as opposed to like, playing a show. I went to that show thinking, "I'm playing for these kids in Charleston," rather than, "I'm going to Brooklyn to play a show, and then I'm going home."
LL: So you feel more connected to the audience?
LU: Yeah. Especially when you're trying to get a place to stay that night. It works that way too.
LL: What do you think the show will be like tonight?
LU: I don't know. Last time I booked a show here, I had Fluffy Lumbers and Pants Yell! play, and no one came. It was a Wednesday though. I don't know. I don't have much faith in kids coming out here. I'm trying to get more shows here. I think I only see two shows a year here, tops. It's hard to get anything done here. People don't answer your emails.
LL: So your No Demons Here project, was that what you started recording on your own, and then you got involved in these other projects as people heard that music?
LU: I just started it on my own, planning it to be just on my own. I wrote a bunch of songs, and I was told that they were good, and I kept doing it.
LL: Who gave you that feedback?
LU: My friends. Liam and Sam. The Ians. I had a lot of support from them, so I kept doing it, and playing in Big Troubles and playing in Fluffy Lumbers has really- it changes the way you write a song, or the way you hear a song, being in a band. Sam writes really good pop songs. I wouldn't normally say my songs are pop, but I’ve tried to go into a mindset like that when I'm writing new songs. I try to think, Let me try to write a pop song, because this is what I hear a lot, playing his songs over and over again. And Big Troubles has a specific element to it, so I try to think, Let me try to do this. Let me see what they do, and let me try to do it too. Because playing those songs over and over again, it almost becomes second nature. Like, I'll play the song, but let me play it this way. Because I hear it so much. It turns into this weird, hybrid. From the pool that they're grabbing from, I start to grab from. None of this has been recorded yet, though. None of my new songs. We'll see how it translates on tape.
LL: When are you planning to record them?
LU: Over the summer. I'm too busy now.
LL: It's interesting that you said that they're not really bands, and more projects. What direction do you see them taking? Do see one group becoming more solidly like, "This is a band"?
LU: We're all friends, so I think we'll stick to each other. But if someone can't do it I don't think there are any hard feelings. I feel like I am comfortable to say, "I can't do this." I don't have to consider the band as a priority in my life. It's fun. I don't want it to become a job. I just think it's fun. As long I do it with friends. I mean, it's fun to play big shows, but I'd rather just have fun doing it, than stress out about it, or worry about making money off of it. So that's why I like it being a project and not a band. Even though I think some people like seeing a band. Looking at a group of people and knowing that it's a solid thing, a packaged thing almost.
I think it's nice to keep the same members sometimes, if anyone's paying attention.
There's a certain easiness to look at a band and say, "It's this." I feel like there's a weird mystery when you have one person doing it and everyone shuffles in the back. There are great bands that do that, and I find those bands interesting. I find the person interesting then. Like that band the Lilys just has the main guy and his backing band always changes. And I find that cool. It's his project and every record sounds really different, but it's still the Lilys. And Cass McCombs, every time I saw him he was playing with a different backing band. So that was cool to see.
The stasis is cool, though. You could go either way, now that I think about it. I like seeing the same people all the time.
LL: What about for your own project?
LU: I record songs and then if someone makes a suggestion and I usually go back and rerecord it and see what happens. I'm open to that. But I've never had the experience to actually sit down with a band like, "Let's write this song," or something like that. My songs definitely translate differently as a live band, which has only happened three times. I played with Sam and Alex and Ian from Big Troubles. I've never actually reached any content-ness with what I wanted the live band to sound like. But I'm in no rush. Everyone's busy with their stuff, and I'm content with just recording and not having to worry about it.
I've been trying to work out a solo set, which I'm trying out tonight. I'm opening.
LL: So it's you and then Fluffy Lumbers?
LU: Maybe.
LL: What do you mean, "Maybe?"
LU: Well, depending on when Alex gets here.

Ida is one of the founders and editors of this website. She tweets for Low Log and also has a tumblr. You can contact her at idajane[at]gmail.com.

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Untitled 1-3 Tokyo, Japan

by Cat Nelson

click any image to enlarge

2010
digital image
6 x 6 inches

Contact Cat at catherine.elizabeth@gmail.com.

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Safari Party

by Tait Foster

I am currently studying in London for a Master’s and while here I’ve been taking account of the true differences that exist between the English and Americans, the most jarring of which took place the other night. A good friend invited me to a dinner party, which she herself had been invited to by a classmate. Only after accepting this invitation were we informed that it was a ‘Safari Party’ with no explanation beyond that. Now, one has to worry about something like this because the British are fucking nuts for their themed parties. It’s not a costume party where you show up wearing a t-shirt that has been cleverly drawn on, or a sharpie-ed on mustache. No, these motherfuckers spend ungodly amounts of money renting and making costumes. A bachelor party in this country is not a night out meeting every stripper in Reno; rather it is about getting dressed up in funny costumes (so far I’ve seen men in Edwardian Dresses, fox-hunting outfits, and inquisition robes with fake plastic tits over them). This in mind I was unsure of what I had actually gotten myself into. Was I going to walk into some weird British version of a furry party? Or was I going to walk in and suddenly be facing somebody who looked like the dude from Jumanji? Unsure of where my night was going to go, I decided to just dress as English as possible (i.e. Argyll socks, checkered collared shirt, blue button up cardigan, and my cigar-size mustache).

I arrived at the pre-determined house, which it should be said was in the middle of what equates to the Upper East Side but in London. Pause and think about that. The pretension of the Upper East Side but in England. Hail Britannia and so on and so forth. I walked upstairs to see a fairly simple layout. In this swanky bachelorette pad were 4 women and 4 men (myself included) all casually dressed, at least for the English. It seemed like a fairly simple affair. Wine bottles were opened, dinner was served. Everyone settled into their seats and into conversation. Everything was great. My fears momentarily subsided. I may have even laughed at myself. ‘What were you thinking?’ I thought, ‘People dressed up as the guy from Jumanji?! Jesus Tait, that’s paranoid even for you. It’s just a dinner party, nice intelligent people, and hey that Brit talking about Sarah Palin is kinda cute.’

These were my thoughts when, after about an hour and a half or so, the phone rang and our hostess answered saying something along the lines of “Sorry sorry, we’ll hurry up.” About 5 minutes later the doorbell rang and in walked four of the biggest douche bag looking motherfuckers I have ever seen. Pinstripe suits, gelled hair - this was Jersey Shore come to merry old England. It was at this point where I was informed of what was going on. These 4 had been at a nearby house with another 4 women who were awaiting the arrival of myself and the 3 other guys to join them for dessert. Suddenly it dawned on me. This was English speed dating! This is the type of shit single people in their late thirties and early forties did before Internet dating. Now I realized what had been going on. I was being sent into another proverbial lion’s den, but this time fully aware of the mindset of all around me (ignorance had truly been bliss). To make matters worse one of the ‘new’ gentlemen introduced himself with the biggest shit eating grin I have ever seen, which wordlessly held all of the competition of this night that I had been wholly unaware of. This smile said, “I’m playing for keeps” and I didn’t even know there was (as Holmes would put it) a game afoot.

Upon arriving at the next house, I suddenly became aware of a further reason for the aforementioned gentlemen’s unsightly grin. The inhabitants of the next house were the textbook definition of the Seven Duffs. The 4 before us (a lawyer, estate agent, and two investment bankers, I shit you not) must have been doing some truly fucked up things to get 4 women so drunk in an hour and a half. It looked like a double power hour of wine had just finished. The drunken nature of the second house led to a more volatile conversation topics. Twice I was harangued over American politics and once again for tricking the British into fighting in Afghanistan. Yes I, Tait Foster, personally tricked the British into allying themselves with the United States in the War in Afghanistan. The mystery has been solved, according to the drunken Linguistics major from the University of Manchester.

After what seemed like a hellish eternity of this, the final act of this social farce reared its head. The other group joined us and then we went out to a bar. Again let me pause and allow that to wash over you. After being shuttled between two groups of girls and everyone (aside from myself) getting sloppy we all met up and went to a bar in the London equivalent of the Upper East Side…

HOLY HOLDEN CAUFIELD BATMAN! I watched as my fellow male compatriots jockeyed for prime positions, a shakedown the likes of which I hadn’t seen since the last song at a Middle School dance; a cruel synthesis of the Siena Palio and Ladies Night at Happy Ending in New York City. There was no room for famous English manners, nor was there room for small talk. These investment bankers knew the score and it was time to seal the deal. Gordon Gekko eat your heart out because these suave and perfumed gentlemen, these heirs of William the Conqueror, Churchill, Oscar Wilde, Keats, and Shakespeare were going to bring these ‘birds’ home if they had to pour the Sambuca shots themselves. I couldn’t believe my eyes, couldn’t believe the sheer sport I was witnessing. I had to get out. A swift and subtle escape is all I could hope for, all I could do to maintain a degree of dignity and sanity knowing I had to survive in this country for a few more months. I quietly backtracked out, bumping into the massive eastern European bouncer and mumbling something about forgetting my umbrella in the lift. Full sprinting to the bus I came out of that night like the ending of so many after-school specials - at home crying softly to myself in the fetal position as Born in the USA played on repeat.

Contact Tait at tait.foster@gmail.com.

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Interview with Luka Usmiani: Part 1

by Ida Griesemer

On Saturday, April 3rd, I went up to my (and a lot of LL's) alma mater, Sarah Lawrence, for a Fluffy Lumbers show. The plan was also to interview Luka Usmiani, bassist in the band and guy behind No Demons Here. It was a warm evening, we sat on the steps behind Marshall Fields, talked about fireworks and bad album names. We also talked about the following. The interview will appear in 2 parts.

View: Part 2

LL: How long has Fluffy Lumbers been playing together?
LU: I guess since last summer. At the beginning of the summer Sam asked me to play, because we were going to Miami. So those were our first shows. He didn't want to go alone, so he wanted to get a band together.
LL: So Sam was already calling himself Fluffy Lumbers, and he had something booked in Miami?
LU: Well, he had been doing Fluffy Lumbers for maybe a year and a half at that point, and it'd just been solo stuff that he did on keyboards. Then he released a 7” on Weird Hug Records, which is based in Miami and Chicago. They had a festival in Miami and they invited him to play.
LL: What made him decide to bring a band?
LU: I think he didn't want to drive alone. And I guess he wanted to try out the whole band sound. I guess that's the ideal set up for him.
LL: How did you meet each other?
LU: The summer prior to being in the band, we just had a lot of mutual friends, so we just started hanging out. And then we became internet friends through the year - he went to school in Boston, now he transferred here - but we would just talk all the time. We had a lot of interests in common, so he asked me to play bass.
LL: So this was just last year?
LU: Yeah, I finished my freshman year, and then I met him over the summer. Well, I knew who he was, I saw him maybe once or twice, but people always said that we were very similar, so it was weird to finally start hanging out with him. Because I still don't see it.
LL: You'd seen him play before?
LU: No, I mean I have seen him play in other bands he was in, like some pop/punk band he was in, and this band Frat Dad, I saw that. I knew who he was. And he liked a lot of the bands that were happening in Glen Rock.
LL: Can you talk about what Glen Rock is like?
LU: Yeah. It's a suburb in New Jersey near New York. I guess it's an average suburb. It's mostly upper middle class to upper class it's cool, I mean, when I moved there when I was in fourth grade it felt like a t.v. show, almost. I almost felt like I was in "Happy Days." The architecture of the schools was still in the 1940's. So it was very weird to come from - I had lived in another town over the George Washington bridge called Fort Lee. The school there was very 70's and 80's looking, so it was weird to go back in time like that. And just the general demographics of my home town changed, so I felt like I was going into this weird, fabled, New England American dream type thing. I hadn't really come into contact with that, other than t.v.
LL: When did you start playing music?
LU: I had taken piano since I was five till I was fourteen or fifteen. And then in between that I learned how to play guitar. But I didn't really start writing music till my sophomore year.
LL: Did you play in bands in high school at all?
LU: No. I played in one band briefly when I was in eighth grade. But I hurt my hand and they said they didn't want me to play anymore. I hurt my hand in volleyball in gym, and I said "I can't play today," and they said, "Well, if you can't play today, you can't play at all." They were trying to be serious about it.
LL: So you mainly just played on your own, took lessons…
LU: Yeah, I took lessons on my own in the beginning high school. Then I just faded out of doing music really until my freshman year of college. I was bored in my room so I just started playing again.
LL: What made you get back into it?
LU: I guess talking with Sam really helped. My friend Liam was doing four track recordings through high school and that was inspiring to me.
LL: Liam went to Glen Rock High?
LU: Yeah. And having the band Titus Andronicus loom over us in our town was like, "I wanna do this, I wish I could do this." And then by sophomore year, I would talk to Sam, and I guess he egged me on to try recording, and I recorded, and got better at it, and bought more equipment, and kept doing it.
LL: Did you go to shows locally when you were in high school?
LU: Yeah, I went to a couple local shows towards the end. I didn't really come into my group of friends until senior year of high school, so they know more about it. I hear stories about them. Pat from Titus Andronicus would have these concerts called Pat Stock, which was a response to Glen Stock, which our high school had to support yearbooks or whatever. So his band Seizing Elian would play, which was his band prior to the band that was prior to Titus Andronicus. The whole Glen Rock / Ridgewood music scene, quote unquote, like the guys from Real Estate and Titus Andronicus– I guess that all happened and went. So when they graduated high school they were doing their own things. So it almost segregated again. Cause there was a lot of shi- I don't know. Whatever the Ridgewood kids my age were doing at this point, was really not happening in conjunction with the Glen Rock kids. It was just that we weren't really hanging out with the guys in Ridgewood, in terms of music. And at that point in Glen Rock it was some punk bands that had their own scene that was kind of aside from us, and then my friend Liam was in a band called VCR with this guy Sarim who is in Liquor Store now. There was a metal band too, Cranial Damage. Not that it fell apart, but the towns were more separate communities then.
LL: So there was a period of time when the towns were more connected?
LU: I guess. I don't know, I was too young. I was a freshman in high school and I didn't really hang out with those kids. It was happening more when they were in high school, really in high school, and I was in eighth grade. And then freshman year they were all seniors, so they were finishing that up.
LL: But it felt like there was a crossover? People from Glen Rock would go to those shows?
LU: Definitely. There were house shows that people would put on, and it would be before kids had drivers' licenses. They would walk to the next town, which is kind of a hike, to get to the houses. That was a scene that I spectated, cause I wasn't really part of that group of friends yet. And it - I guess not fell apart, everyone just went to college and did their own thing.

View: Part 2

Ida is one of the founders and editors of this website. She tweets for Low Log and also has a tumblr. You can contact her at idajane[at]gmail.com.

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Off the Menu

by Kayla Morse

In the car on the way to the restaurant, Rachel asked me what exactly we were--"were-were" she said, or rather "are-are"--and I said, "If you-you haven't decided that-that for yourself already, then I-I can't help you." What I'd wanted to say was, I know you've never coupled with this kind of genitalia before, but there are some things you're going to have to fucking figure out on your own, but I did not. I did not because there are some things she's going to have to fucking figure out on her own.

Rachel said, "Did you hear about Etienne?" Yes, yes, I told her, I had.

Rachel casually mentioned that her husband probably knew about us. "I sure hope he doesn't kill me before this is over," I said, and she laughed, picked up the phone I hadn't noticed was vibrating and said into it, "We're on our way."

Lance and Sylvianne were already at the restaurant and rose when we arrived. Lance kissed my hand and told me it'd been much too long. Sylvianne dropped her lids and gave me and Rachel a blank stare. "Oh, loves. Who has the drugs?"

The restaurant was one where the famous people are seated strategically and the maître d' can smell the hundreds of thousands you pull a year or the millions you were born with. I'm trying to say it was nice, rich people only.

Sylvianne dropped her lids and gave me a blank stare. "Oh, kid. Your dick hasn't changed as much as your hair, has it?"
I'd cut my hair because Rachel liked it better that way, shorter, so that she could see my ears.
"Have you heard about Elizabeth and Wiley?" Lance asked, sitting back down and placing his napkin in his lap like a poor person.
"No, we haven't," Rachel said.
She loved to answer for both of us. One of her "things." Perhaps she did it with her husband as well: We do.

I had heard about Elizabeth and Wiley. They were a mess. They'd gone to Dubai and holed up with some president-grade hookers and smoked something off and hadn't left their hotel room in a week and a half. The hookers were gone, but they were still there, taking lots of baths, I'd heard. Crying and ordering room service and throwing the food when they didn't recognize it.

"They're buying another apartment in the city. Apparently that merger served Wiley better than anticipated."
"What merger?" Rachel asked. Sylvianne laughed.
"Oh, silent one. Private contract. Happened last year."
Sylvianne put her head down on the table.
"Get the girl some drugs!" Lance cheersed Rachel.
I pushed a bag of assorted pills between Sylvianne's mouth and the tablecloth. Rachel didn't realize it, but her expression adjusted minimally as I did so. The muscles around her lips always tightened a few degrees when I touched other girls' mouths.
"Is this your rucksack?" Sylvi asked.
Lance was about to take a sip of wine when he pulled away his glass half a second from his lips and looked at me and Rachel. "Have you heard about Berlin and Nichols?"
Rachel said, "Yes, yes we have." She shrugged her shoulders and her mouth went with.
I hadn't heard, but now it was too late to ask.

Sylvianne loosed the contents of the rucksack onto her plate and began separating the pills out of the larger pile one by one, a pill of each color. She lined the colored ones up on her tongue into as much of a rainbow as she could muster and let the wine knock them to the back of her throat. I'd always thought she was sexy. Sometimes when she did more drugs than necessary all at once it made my dick hard.
James and Renee arrived. Renee was braless, wearing a sheer top and a black skirt. What Renee lacked in style she made up for in ribs shown. Renee sat down and took one of the yellow pills Sylvi had left on her plate.
"What to drink, what to drink," she said, opening the menu.
"Rachel, you look excellent," James said. I dropped my lids and gave James a blank stare.
"Have you heard about Sasha and Miro?" Renee asked, looking up. I had. Had Rachel? Rachel had not.
"Do tell," Rachel said.
Sylvianne slid one finger over the arc of my thigh, and gave Renee an expectant look. "Good news?"
"Depends who you talk to," Renee said, eyebrows arched, and she and James laughed.
"I wouldn't go that far," Renee said, eyebrow arched, and she and James shared a worn-down exhale. "Sasha had another abortion and Miro said she's done with her even though Sasha had the abortion for Miro because, god, you know how Miro feels about children and how Sasha feels about Miro."
Sylvianne sang, "Que mi-ro, mi-ro," and poured herself another glass.
Lance pressed his knife down against the center of his lip so that puffed bubbles of skin crowded the metal. He used the knife to point at James. "James. James James James. Whatever happened to that girl from the summer home?"
"Oh god, her." James leaned back in his chair. He looked at Renee, who cocked her head and smiled. Renee seemed to enjoy the short histories of summer homes, girls who turned with the leaves. "I'm sure someone at this table has a more interesting story to tell than the one I have about her," James said.
"Go on," Sylvianne said, tapping her fork against her cheek.
"I killed her," he said, and she laughed.
"I drugged her," he said, and she laughed.
"She took up painting," he said, and she laughed.
"What a marvelous girl," Sylvianne said. "Did you hear about Mitch and Trudy?" she asked. Renee, Lance, and I had. James and Rachel had not. "They don't exist! They simply don't. Not even a tiny little bit.," she said. This was true.
"I've begun seeing my ex-girlfriend's therapist," Lance said.
"Shauna?"
"Nikki."
"Emily?"
"Starla."
"Renee?"
"Dr. Gauld." He sighed and looked at a neighboring table. "It's strange, you know. He must know I'm withholding."
"They always know," said Sylvianne.
"Then what's the point?"
"Well, did you hear about Starla?" she asked.
"And Dr. Gauld?"
"And Dr. Laumans."

Sylvianne's eyes lost focus and her lids began their struggle. We could hear her brain behind them, cha-kunking upward like a noisy elevator in an old building, fueled by that window display of pills plop-plopping into her stomach acid, firing off baby alka-seltzer bubblettes. The fizz manifested itself in a burp and she was slow to laugh.
"I once had an analyst who could read my mind," Rachel said.
"Well that's no fun," James said.
"The sex was great, though."
The sex was great, though, I mouthed into the rim of my glass before swallowing. Sylvianne burped again.
"Oh god, don't look now. Behind you," Lance averted his eyes from Renee, "At one o'clock, no, midnight--"
"Noon," James said, hiding his face in his menu.
"Noon o'clock. It's Nichols."
"You weren't even in the Cold War," Sylvianne said, taking another sip of wine, spilling a little onto her plate.
"What's she wearing?" Rachel ducked low to the table, catlike with elbows bent and spine sloped.
"She wouldn't come over here," I said, hopeful.
"She is--Fuck! She's coming over. Oh, goddamnit." Renee pressed her nose to the wine list.
"Why would--"
"Well look who it is," Nichols said, tapping the stitches on the left corner of her mouth with a couple of red fingernails, the five on her other hand wrapped around the back of Sylvianne's seat. "Hey, lover." She kissed James on the mouth.
"Hello," James said--an attempt to be both sensual and indifferent. I saw cool desperation. "Who are you with?"
"Who am I with? That's always the question." She laughed. "Who are you with?"
"Friends."
"And this?" She tapped a red nail against Sylvianne's back.
"A tranny I picked up on the West side."
Sylvianne tried to lower her lids but her eyeballs up and disappeared.
"I'm with Etienne," Nichols said. She smiled at me, closed-mouth. I felt a stitch burst somewhere on my insides. "That is who I'm with."
I looked past her to their table, which was empty.
Sylvianne's head dropped back against the space between Nichols' ribs. She fit, for a moment, perfectly, until she lolled to one side and lost the groove.
Nichols pulled Sylvi's head up by the bangs so that it hung slack in the middle and taut at the ends like a hammock. "I'm not sure this one is breathing anymore."
Sylvianne's eyelids twitched in an unsuccessful attempt to reopen.
"Sometimes I ride the subway without makeup for fun."
Nichols pulled Sylvi's head back by the bangs--
"I'm fine. FINE."
Nichols pulled Sylvi's head back by the bangs--
Her forehead was full of sweat, eyelids straining against grip and gravity. Nichols set Sylvi's head down on the appetizer plate.
"She's fine. FINE," Renee said. Nichols looked at me again and smiled. Once, after we'd had sex, I sat on the toilet for 10 minutes discovering each slivery clump of flesh tucked under my fingernails, marveling.
"Have you heard about Sophie and Ellis?" Nichols asked.
"Isn't Sophie sober now?" I asked.
"What does that mean?" Renee asked.
"Only over the counter."
"What about Ellis?" James asked.
Nichols looked around the restaurant. "You never know who's in these places. Ellis is out of the country. His father got him out. He killed a boy, some teenage party promoter. Very messy."
"How'd he kill him?" Lance looked skeptical.
"A number of blunt objects. A bust of Benjamin Franklin among them."
Lance stared at her for a moment after she finished speaking. "Nichols, you look different."
"I got my eyelashes extended," she said. "Makes a world of difference. And you'd think telling people about it would diminish it, but no. Eyes listen so much more closely than ears."
"I want red wine, right?" Renee asked James.
"Stop by, come say hi to Etienne." Nichols hip-swiveled her way back to her table in an effort to avoid the swarm of chairs and purses, seat backs and handbags.
Sylvianne stayed on the appetizer plate.

"I'm surprised she's out in public," Lance said, gesturing towards Nichols' table. We turned our heads to get another look at her ass but she had disappeared and the table remained empty.
"Did she look good?" James asked, depressingly earnest.
Renee cocked her head at him. I inhaled to bury the comment I'd been on the verge of making. Of course she looked good, but the restorative surgery must've drawn lines we couldn't see.
"It is what it is," Lance said into his menu.
Big purple ones that ran ragged beneath her red dress.
"Guess who I saw at 99 last night?" Rachel said. Rachel, who had told me she would be with her husband all evening.
"Who?" James asked.
"Courtney." She dropped the word and let it sit on the table. Renee gasped.
"Courtney?" Lance repeated.
"Courtney," she said, again dropping it and letting it sit.
"How'd she look?" James asked.
Rachel was enjoying this. Perhaps she had gone to 99 without me just so that she might have this dinner moment of spotlight gossip. She waited a moment. She raised her eyebrows. She looked at Renee, then at James. A bit of yellowy foam slid out of Sylvianne's mouth and pooled onto her plate.
"Great. She looked great."
"No kidding."
"Yup."
With her information released, gobbled, Rachel's power deflated. She had a sip of wine, adjusted her hemline. Courtney--she was old news. Oh yeah, Courtney? Rachel saw her at 99 last night, last week. Rachel, at 99, all alone. The sex was great, though. What's next? What are we ordering? How was the sex? Has anyone else considered the thick, knotted scar tissue beneath Nichols' Herve Leger?
I realized I'd been talking out loud. For a moment, the table quiet like a storm surge. Renee smiled. --Did you hear about Rachel and Sidney? Abrupt. Ball of flames. Everyone stopped and stared. And there was a dead girl on the plate next to them the whole time! Etienne saw it all. I know.--

Contact Kayla at kmorse@gm.slc.edu.

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