Though I have plenty of reasons to feel “blessed,” being a music fan that lived in Seattle around the turn of the 21st century is right up there at the top.

I will be the first to admit that the music from Seattle in the early ’00s wasn’t earth-shattering — I can count the number of really great bands to come from that time on one hand. But those bands were the first steps to expanding my musical taste and teaching me that your favorite bands are typically not the flavor of the day.

Looking back, I bet I wasn’t alone. I swear within two years, the Seattle scene went from pretty much ALL New Bomb Turks and Heartbreakers rip-offs to every other type of band. Phrases like “Killed By Death” and “No Wave” seemed to have become common vernacular within a year.

Though bands like the Spits, Blow Up and the Cripples helped bridge this gap by playing shows with generic rock ‘n roll bands, people like me had to specifically find an A-Frames show to attend. After hearing constant buzz from friends, I finally caught a set of theirs at the Sunset in Ballard. Couldn’t tell you who the other bands were, but I remember their set like it was yesterday.

I couldn’t fully appreciate their sound at the time, which my friend Cody would always imitate by going *BRap BRap BRap,* but in the middle of the set, singer/guitarist Erin asked the audience, “Do you want to hear a slow one?”

To this day, “Surveillance” is one of my favorite songs, and from that moment on I was a dedicated A-Frames fan. (And I’m not alone in my conversion by “Surveillance.”)

Seeing them at the Hemlock brought me back to those days when every song they played was a hit, especially the ones that appeared on a cassette they released back then: “Crutches,” “Complications” and “Membrane.” It was so good, I made sure to go to the Stork show 2 weeks later, where they not only played those songs again, they busted out “Surveillance” too. (Sadly, I didn’t record it, but the band probably got a recording of the set from the Stork’s board…)

All those early recordings, including a bunch of demo tracks, have been compiled on 3-Lp set called “3″ released on SS Records. Do yourself a favor and pick it up.

So this post is a little late and a little rushed because I leave for the Dry-Shitties tomorrow. Still, I finally finished these goddamn demos and everybody should download them, distribute them, do whatever. They’re just demos, right?

But before I get to the songs, I have to show off/brag about my newly obtained Mark Mothersbaugh autograph. My wife’s aunt came over from Philadelphia to visit my in-laws for a few weeks and brought me a present — no, not the autograph, but a Men Without Hats “Safety Dance” 45.

Obviously it was a present she found while cleaning out her closet. (It had a note inside from her sister talking about how great a some record by the Police was.) Still, it was super nice of her, especially since I had probably only saw her 3-4 times before then.

My father-in-law has a record player hooked up in his dining room, so we put the record on. I think only my wife and I knew the Safety Dance before that moment, so of course I had to demonstrate it for them. By doing so I confirmed the fact that it was a stupid dance.

We flipped over the record to listen to the B-side, an upbeat synth rocker that could have only been written in the ’80s called “Living In China,” (which is also, by the way, is kinda racist.)

“This sounds like Devo.”

“Oh, you’ve actually heard of Devo?” asked Joan.

“Yeah. I’m such a big fan I actually bought a DVD of theirs.”

“You want a Devo autograph?”

Whadda ya mean do I want an autograph? Hell yeah, I want a Devo anything, especially an autograph. Watching “the Untold Story of Devo” turned into a two-week long Devo-listening jag where I craved listening to Devo records, especially songs like “The Day My Baby Gave Me a Surprise” and “Snowball.” Her offer came during the middle of those two weeks.

So there it is up above, a piece of cardboard signed “We’re All Devo, Mark” by Mark Mothersbaugh back around 1980 (“Freedom of Choice”(Hell yeah!)), in all its glory.

Now to the tracks:

A few quick notes:

1. I used a PreSonus Firepod with Logic on my 15″ Macbook to record this. I also miked the living hell out of the drums and recorded the guitars direct.

2. Pilot’s Handbook — I’m gonna change the lyrics some time soon. For this recording I half-assed sang some scribblings I made on an early BART train about a guy crashing his car. (I don’t know why I said “Joe” in the first bridge but I really regret not re-recording it during the 2-hour frame of time I had to record the vocals at my practice space.

3. Under A Mountain — This is the first song I wrote for the band and no, I wasn’t listening to Queens of the Stone Age at the time; I was listening to KARP (Self-titled of course.) I had those first two lines for a long time, but usually just made noises throughout the rest of the song. The rest of the song is now filled with obnoxious comments about a guy I hate. Really not going for a Pulitzer here. (Also notice the stupidest/most hilarious/most awesome Pussy Galore lyric squeezed in at the second verse.)

4. Criminals (look like this) — Gavin Toler’s post-Pud band name that I loved. Thinking about the title made me think about Bernie Madoff and Kenneth Lay, so I wrote a bunch of phrases that those guys might have said.

UPDATE: We’re now called Steeples and we have a new singer, a guy named Dustin who sang for the band Suicide Bomb.

After their original drummer Joe left, I auditioned for the band Battleship. I hadn’t played drums for a band since the Popular Shapes, which I left in 2003; this was three years later. By that point I had been dying to play in a band and Battleship were one of the only bands in the Bay Area I actually liked.

It had been months since I spent any time behind a kit. Though I still brimmed over with natural talent (ha!), when it came to playing the parts Joe wrote for their songs, I stumbled and apologized more than I played proficiently.

Suffice to say, I didn’t get the job — it went to a much faster, talented drummer named Drew. Instead, Battleship’s singer/battery (that guy is “go, go go!” all the time) Aleks offered to start a side project with me.

It was after that conversation that led to the birth of Red Nurse, a band that shamelessly exploited its members’ previous bands’ fame. We couldn’t help it; really, each of our bands had minimal success in the underground (our singer’s old band, Tractor Sex Fatality, was probably the best of the bunch) and we didn’t think twice about advertising that fact when played our first show. (We headlined, so it was necessary.)

The funniest part about this band was the fact that the most talented member, Mike the bass player, was the only one who hadn’t been in a band before this. I helped him buy a bass and amp just for this band. He would become the main songwriter for the band, though many of our songs were compiled from spontaneous jams during practice.

We played a few shows, were offered a few record deals and yet we let it peter our when Alecks left for New York in 2007.

Here is the COMPLETE recording of a show we played at the Stork club in 2007 — we opened for the Wooden Shjips (who I also recorded) and Pink Reason. Enjoy.

I can honestly say that the last two years of my life were the hardest I have ever experienced. I finished my master’s degree, got married, lived through a fatal car accident where my passenger died, spent months in court fighting a nine-month jail sentence… Usually I would end such a long, intense run down with a “Good times!” but I really can’t joke about experiences like that.

Now my life has calmed down and I can finally concentrate on doing what makes me happy — obsessing over music. So, for my first blog post since my hiatus, I am going to share some unreleased live tracks of my old band the Popular Shapes.

The shapes started in 2000, when the guitarist/singer Phi (real name Nick,) bassist/singer Lee and I started hanging out at shows. I used to love Phi and Lee’s old band The River Rats; they gave Screeching Weasel and the Angry Samoans a run for their money. But back then, whenever we talked about music, it was typically about our mutual love for the Pixies, Devo and the Hot Snakes. It just made sense to start a band with those influences in mind.

Originally I played second guitar and my friend Tim played drums, but Lee and Phi thought Tim was “too good” and once it was suggested that I play drums, I no longer had a choice in the matter. I didn’t own a drum set, having sold my old one for a bass, but I was so excited about the band that I did some shady freelance writing just to buy new drums.

After we started writing songs, we brought in Trent, former bass player for the Ninja Boners, to play lead guitar. He was playing in bands like Weird Science, who we really didn’t want to sound like. But then again I don’t think Trent wanted to spend much time in that band either. At the first practice, it clicked — if we had recorded that practice, we it would be worth releasing.

The next thing I knew all I wanted to do with my time was play our songs. (Of course I was getting my bachelor’s at the time and the band probably didn’t help my grades much.)

1. Here Come the Pancakes/Speedboats: These were written by Phi and were two of our first songs. “Pancakes” became our set opener for the majority of shows. It was kind of a hit it amongst our fans but for some reason we could never record it in the studio with that same energy. Our demo version of it, which is OKAY, ended up on the “Dirtnap Across The Northwest” compilation. We later tried to record it for the album, but failed miserably. This version of “Speedboats” was recorded before Phi wrote a dissonant lead for the chorus. To be honest, the album version sounded better without that lead, but Phi and Lee really liked it. Que Sera Sera.

This recording was done by Jim the Bootlegger at the Breakroom (now Chop Suey) with a mini disc recorder and a SM 57. We opened for the Catheters that night and I heard that the band was nervous about playing after us when they saw our set. In the end, they still kicked our asses, but then again, they were pro.

2. A Symmetrical Girl: Trent penned this over-the-top pop song, which is pretty typical of what he wrote back then. It also gives a glimpse into what he would be doing later under the name TV Coahran — heavily Sparks-influenced pop with toy pianos, acoustic guitars and seriously goofy lyrics (Township of Cecil? What the fuck.) He would write other songs like this, including “Sack of Noise” which we played out a few times, but after awhile we started getting really sick of this kind of poppy-ness and pretty much rejected many of the songs Trent brought in. It wasn’t until he started writing more abrasive riffs like “Fluorescent Bikes Depressing” that convinced us to give him another chance.

This was recorded at the Crocodile (RIP) at the “Video Madness” showcase. During the Seattle International Film Festival, the promoter at the Croc decided to put on a showcase where local bands would cover songs that had videos directed by famous directors in town, namely Spike Jonze, Chris Cunningham and Michel Gondry. We wanted Aphex Twin’s “Come to Daddy,” but somebody already nabbed it, so we took the next best thing — Chemical Brothers “Let Forever Be.” The showcases were a flop; maybe ten people showed up to each one. I think the directors had come out to the press saying they were boycotting the shows.

3. Xmas Yeah! This is the second song I wrote for the band, but one of the first songs that we were stoked to play. It was one of those moments in the set that I looked for to and only once I did get sick of playing it. We played it every show.

Andrew Pardo, the sound guy for Graceland (now El Corazon), recorded this from the board and even took it home to mix to mini disc. He did a nice job, but too bad we weren’t in top form that night. That was in 2003, when everybody in the band really hated me and I was getting ready to move to California. We were at the height of our popularity but since there was this tension in the band, we really didn’t make it any farther (that is until after I left and the album came out.)

4. Ads On Police Cars: We had the jam in the middle of this song first and I basically wrote this as a vehicle for that jam. I used to love playing that part and I think everyone else did too. In videos of us playing, we typically try to play it cool except for me, since I’m playing as fast and loud as I possibly can, sweating buckets the entire time. But when it came to that part, we all lost our shit. I would lose myself in that riff. The only problem was that Phi could NEVER remember his part. He had three or four different riffs that he would play because he could never remember what he played the first time we wrote it. Kind of ironic since right after we wrote it, Phi stopped everyone playing and said “Everyone remember EXACTLY what they were playing.”

This was recorded again at the Crocodile through the board. That night we opened for Guitar Wolf, which would’ve been a dream come true if I was a bigger Wolf fan. They even helped us unload our van. What really surprised me was the low turnout. I had seen them a few years earlier and they packed the venue with fans howling during the entire two-hour set. At this show, the Croc was maybe half full.

Before we played, Zack Static, who was apparently chaperoning the band, took me aside and told me that we couldn’t hang out in the backstage after our set. He wanted us to just grab our shit and get out of there, which is kind of inconvenient because it meant we had no time to rest after our set. His reason? “The Wolf” needed time to prepare for the show. According to Zack, before every show “The Wolf” sits alone in a room and puts himself in some trance state or something. How much preparation do you need to scream “Lock and Loll!” a bunch of times and kiss your Joan Jett pin?*

So, that’s just a few tracks from the hours of live recordings I got piled away in my closet. If your interested in that stuff, maybe you want to hear what I’m doing now with my band the Owners. Well, it’s your lucky day!

Excellent Virus

I recorded this all by myself, playing all the instruments and programming the drums.

*No offense to Zack or Guitar Wolf. Zack is an amazing guy and I still love those Guitar Wolf records. Also, the Wolf’s behavior isn’t as bad as it could be: when we played with Electric Eel Eye, I caught the drummer in the backstage with his pants around his ankles talking to his dick. Now that’s a pre-show ritual!