What’s new, my dudes? Coming to you live from the hot Ohio outdoors, sparrows chirping and AC units whirring. My mind beheld the recollection of iced Americanos this morning, and so I indulged and am currently drinking of its bright, subtly tangy juices.
A song for you
Today my band Strobobean released a digital split with our friends Scrunchies from Minneapolis. Brianna, our multi-talented bass queen, made some beautiful art for the occasion. We’re giving away limited edition prints of the artwork with the first 50 purchases, and donating all that we make today (July 3) to The Loveland Foundation. They are an organization that helps fund therapy for people of color, with a particular focus on Black women and girls.
I like that The Loveland Foundation breaks down its donation amounts so you know exactly how much they need for a single therapy session. They have a handful of ways to contribute, including one that prompts you to find six friends to donate $20 for one session. That option is cool because it’s financially accessible for most people, and it could prompt you to start conversations within your circle about why mental health care is important.
#tbt
Strobobean and Scrunchies were supposed to do some dates together this past May (RIP all 2020 tours). We wanted to do something in lieu of our live collaboration, which is how the Boo/Sway digital split was born.
At our stage — that is to say, completely independent — you have to rely on the DIY touring community to book a tour. One goes to shows, enjoys music, and meets the music makers. Sometimes when you befriend a touring band you get a connection in a new city, which makes it easier to book there. If I don’t know anyone, I scout the internet for local music that I like, reach out, and see how it goes.
When you play a new city you’re often entering a situation with little information. Such was the case when we played Minneapolis last November with Scrunchies. I had never been to MPLS, much less played there. It was our fourth night of tour, and we were coming from Sioux Falls, SD, pleasantly tired from attending a late Halloween part after our set the night before.
I try not to anticipate how the night will go upon arrival, but I fail constantly, even though I’m just as consistently wrong in my judgements. What seems like the ideal first-impression is a bar with a built-in crowd and a regular music calendar. It’s more likely, then, that people will already be there and end up engaged with your set.
Here, the setting was humble and had a DIY spirit. A restaurant by day that occasionally opened its space for shows. People would actually have to plan to come out on this cold night to watch the music.
I was a little concerned we’d have a disappointing turn out because of this being our first time in Minneapolis and having no contacts, no friends, and no fans. However, the marketing efforts of Scrunchies, Butter Boys, and ourselves brought together a small, attentive group and the energy was high. Everything clicked, everything was magic. The local bands were hospitable, and we connected with the members of Scrunchies in particular. They took us out to eat at a late night vegan diner before letting us crash in one of their basements. The next morning, we hung out in our new friend’s home, talking about Buffy the Vampire Slayer and shows and parents and music. It was beautiful.
Writing about a live show now feels fake and weird because it feels like lifetimes ago that we did that tour. Music has always been a source of fire and feeling within me, and there’s nothing that can take the place of creating that experience in a room with even just one receptive person. I have no idea how long it will be before it’s safe to play a show again, but at the rate our country is going I’m fixing to mourn the absence of live music quite a while longer. Gradually I work to put my energy into a relationship with songwriting, recording, and production at the forefront.
Celebratory plum
I completed several early summer projects this week and I am left with fatigue and anticipation. There are still a few ducks to be nudged into their row (?) before I take a week off, but mostly I am basking in the satisfaction of completion. I am taking breaks between tasks to watch episodes of Insecure. I am eating the most delicious plums (a surprisingly good batch of produce from Trader Joe’s) so wide-eyed and delighted by their sweet and floral flavor that I give no concern to the magenta juice splashing about my face and giving an impromptu dye job to my top.
To a Poor Old Woman
By William Carlos Williams
munching a plum on
the street a paper bag
of them in her handThey taste good to her
They taste good
to her. They taste
good to herYou can see it by
the way she gives herself
to the one half
sucked out in her handComforted
a solace of ripe plums
seeming to fill the air
They taste good to her
B-sides
Women’s Flat Track Derby Association (WFTDA) called upon its community’s public health professionals to design a detailed plan for safely returning to the track. It prioritizes safety in the athletes and the community, while other sports struggle to try and force regular programming, even while they have players and staff testing positive.
Check out regular monthly prompts from this revamped Man Repeller Writers Club — getchyer pen and paper out!
I am officially beyond the halfway point of writing a haiku a day for one year. Who’s up for a one week challenge?
Fortune cookie
Instead of skipping stones, try skipping dessert.
Thanks so much for reading Disco Diaries #9, my friend. C u soon,
Katya