iconAclass - For The Ones

Sometimes it's incredibly hard to write about a record, for numerous reasons. Just one example: what the fuck should I write about Black Flag or Fugazi or Rites of Spring that hasn't been said before? Or what could I write about your band's crappy demo without hurting your baby boy feelings? Writing about iconAclass has been just as hard. I have been a dälek fanboy for years and years, and Will Brooks is my brother from different mothers. But fuck being objective, especially when it comes to music and words.

iconAclass is the new solo effort from one of the dopest and illest contemporary MCs: dälek. So yes, you got it right: the group is called dälek, and the solo project is called iconAclass. I was confused, too. I think it's safe to say that dälek has changed my ways of listening to music - and not only HipHop, any genre basically. I always loved the fact how much they alienated your average HipHop listener. No, wait... I didn't love it. I just thought it was funny. It was just like Slayer being shrugged off by metal dudes for being "too extreme". Now that dälek (the group) is on hiatus, the Oktopus does MRC Riddims and dälek (the MC) does iconAclass.

Both For The Ones (the album) and I Got It (the EP) are masterpieces. And I could stop the review here, because you either get it or you don't. But let me delve in: the beats are simply incredible. No fancy gimmicks, no big ass production, no stolen samples - just solid kick ass beats as the groundwork for some of the most creative wordplay I have heard in HipHop for a long, long time. dälek is fucking angry ("I ain't mad, muthafuka / I'm rabid!") about the state of the world. And very obviously, things are going wrong: "95% of my crew go to stores to cash checks. 99% leave vexed." - but there are some things in life that make it all go good, things that help you through the struggle: "4 out 9 love the New York Mets. 2 my nigga get ill on them Technics decks."

It's a sad thing, but a proven fact: hard times help spawn great music: just remember Reagan era hardcore! "The wealthy done built their pearly gates. Out here evil takes so many shapes. We tend to meet early fates. Trust too many fakes. Idolize those who imitate. Bastardize all who create." For The Ones (and I Got It, too) are records that are on fire with passion and anger, not unlike the rage that Chuck D spat on vinyl with PE. dälek is a poet, no doubt about that. But the true poets have always yelled fire. (And, speaking of poetry and art in general: when was the last time you have heard an MC namedrop Geoffrey Chaucer, Lars von Trier, Pablo Picasso, and the Coen brothers?)

But what really counts at the end of the day is the music. There are crazy bangers on that album, slower jams like "Heat Down" on the EP, dirty Boom Bap jammers, you name it. DJ Motiv adds a few cuts and there, but they are never overdone and just add to the whole flavour. So well, I told you... this might be one the lamest reviews I have ever written. I just can't help it. These two records mean so much to me on a personal level that it's close to impossible to write something that makes sense to anyone who is not in my head. Thank you, Will Brooks! It means the world to me to be a part of this.

"Wack crews out flanked by the Massive. Last thing you say 'bout Deadverse is we passive."

www.deadverse.com
www.drugfrontrecords.com

Pygmy Lush - Old Friends / Des Ark - Don't Rock The Boat, Sink The Fucker

Cynical minds have been speaking about "trends" and "hypes" in punk rock, about an abundance of quieter and introspective music. I beg to differ. While it's certainly true, that a plaided shirt, a beard, and an acoustic guitar is quite the safe route to take for the past few years, there is an entirely alternate scene-within-a-scene out there, one that does not rely exclusively on songs about booze and heartbreak... at least not all the time.

Admittedly, it's easy and lazy to be throwing these two records in the same bin, just because they are quiet and came out on the same label at the same time, but fuck it. It makes for some good name dropping. Aimée Argote, the lady behind Des Ark had J Mascis produce one of her records, and members of Pygmy Lush used to be in bands such as Pg. 99, City of Caterpillar, and Majority Rule - all cornerstones in my record collection, and still: it doesn't mean anything at all at the end of the day. Just look at the ex-members tag from a different angle: J Mascis was in fucking Deep Wound of all bands. Shelby Cinca did the design for the Pygmy Lush album, and it's a far cry from Frodus. Dave Grohl was in Scream. Dave Mustaine was in Metallica. Told ya, fucking useless info!

The lowest common denominator for both records is the atmosphere: they both feel haunted. Haunted in the sense of an 8 track recorder on the floor boards of an old abandoned house in the middle of the night, with the sounds of the wind outside as an integral part of the music instead of a mistake. Haunted in the sense of carrying around the burden of sorrow and guilt, of love gone wrong and bad decisions, of lost lovers and lost friends. It's hard to put my finger on it, but beneath all the calm beauty in both records, there is something dark. I am no stranger to this.

Please let me make a statement: Des Ark sounds nothing like Pygmy Lush. These albums are not interchangeable, it's just that they have the same atmosphere - the same kind of atmosphere I can get out of Tom Waits' Closing Time or from The Jesus and Mary Chain's Darklands, to stretch the analogy even further. It's all a gloom of despair and alienation, but alive with pleasure and love and lust. This is the sound of the need to rest, to re-think, reminiscence and adjust, of the need for introspection and the screaming urge for expression at the same time.

99% of aging punks are nostalgic idiots full of shit. Pygmy Lush and Des Ark are the exception to the rule.

www.lovitt.com

Terrible Feelings - Impending Doom 7"

There are some bands with horrible names: Sex Pistols. Dayglo Abortions. Social Distortion. And the list goes on and on and on... but then again, for every single one of these verbal atrocities, there's a band name that just fucking nails it and gives you an idea about the sound: Nuclear Assault. Sick Of It All. Cro-Mags. Enter Terrible Feelings, a punk band from Sweden - the birthplace of melodramatic death metal and cheap ass furniture.

If you ask me (and even if you don't), they couldn't have picked a more apt name... their two songs on these seven inches of vinyl are spooky, angst ridden, sinister, melancholic - and, above all, PRETTY FUCKING CATCHY! There's hints of Agent Orange, Wire, and Redd Kross, and the vocals sound like a mix between Joan Jett (if she was doing power pop) and that woman from Life...But How To Live It? (is she was doing power pop).

I don't have a lot to say about these 6 minutes of power-pop-punk, except one thing: this is punk rock done right. Yes, it's possible. Even in 2011.

You can download the entire record for free (and many other kick ass releases from the boss punx at Sabotage and Taken By Surprise) here - but you should buy it.

BIG BANG BIG BOOM - the new wall-painted animation by BLU

BIG BANG BIG BOOM - the new wall-painted animation by BLU from blu on Vimeo.

Vrgns - Manimals / Deep Sleep - Turn Me Off

I had a conversation with somebody recently, and a question popped up: "So what exactly is hardcore?" - And me, Mister Bigmouth Punk Rock Knowitall, I was dumbfounded. "Well, you know... it's kinda hard to explain. It's a subgenre of punk rock. It's loud. I fucking love it." - "But what IS IT?"

How the fuck should I explain hardcore? How do you explain why you love a girl even though she takes all your money, has an ugly personality and goes out with other boys? This pretty much sums my relationship with this bitch called hardcore. I love her and I hate her. But every once in a while, she puts on those clothes that make me feel all horny and then she gives me a 13 minute quickie. She calls herself Deep Sleep then, and recites her badly written poetry that made me fall for her in the first place: "I want to fuck. I want to scream. I want to destroy everything. I want to kill. I want to burn. Won't cry now, cause I never learned. I want to do everything. I want to make my heart explode. I want to do everything. I want it now and again and again and again and again." - I love you, babe. Even though you steal your riffs from other babes.

Enter her prettier twin sister who isn't a Virgin anymore (she also went out with other hardcore boys), but a Vrgn. Miss Vrgn offers a nice threesome, and when when get you right down to it, she offers oozin' aah choruses. I'm all hers.

So, well... THIS is hardcore. This lady uses curse words and screams, she sweats and spits and hates everything, she smiles through broken teeth, but she always keeps her head up high. She's not like those plastic boobed girls in porn movies, she's REAL. And no, I can't explain why I'm still a sucker for hardcore. But I am. Thanks for reminding me once again...

www.myspace.com/virginsofflorida
www.myspace.com/deepsleepmusic
www.kissofdeathrecords.com
www.gravemistakerecords.com
www.takenbysurprise.net

Indoctrinate - Down-and-out (Demo 2010)

Shit, I can't even remember the last time when a band sent me their demo... I think it was around 1912 or something. On a shellac. But there's still punk bands, and to my surprise punk bands still make demos... anachronism rules. Big time. Well, at least in my punk world. (Fuck you.)

So let's see past the "packaging" (which is basically just a CD-R in an unprinted paper sleeve, which - to make things worse - looks like Papa Roach...) and let's see past the horrible band name as well... this could be anything. Skapunk maybe. Or metalcore. But let's pop the fucker in and... aha... interesting sample... holy shit! This is good! These kids thrash! Like fast and ugly! Speaking of ugly, the sound quality sucks, like 8 out of 10 on my personal suck-o-meter. But wait a minute... I stand corrected, because I actually like the sound. The sheer ugliness reminds me of one the few records from way back when that actually stood the test time. There's a little bit of D-beat here, some (how original!) Tragedy guitar wanking, death growls, you name it. The vocals are somewhere between Pushead and that Colohan dude you love to hate, the lyrics deal with all the things you'd expect and then some, but this is how it's supposed to be. Let someone else have the whiny bullshit. I am not going apeshit over this band (yet?), but I guess I will see them in a dirty stinking basement soon enough.

www.myspace.com/indoctrinateofficial

The Arrivals - Volatile Molotov

This band fucking rules. This album fucking rules. No, really. I am literally kicking my ass for sleeping on their first four (!) records. What the fuck has been wrong with me all these years?

A gentleman from Dillinger Four plays in this band. They are from Chicago and sound sometimes like that one band you have never heard of. No, the other band. But that's too obvious, isn't it? Phew. Fuck you. I knew it. All right, some more coffee, and then let me try to explain...

Any halfway decent rock and roll album needs an opener that kicks in with a bang (check). It needs melodies (check), punches (check), amazingly witty lyrics (check) that could be short stories (check) instead of classic rock blurbs about girls and cars. (Only one man can pull this shit of, and you all know that I am not talking about Mike Ness.) British pop influence (check) is always a plus, awesome vocals (check) can't hurt either.

So it's all there... a great fucking ass kicking rock and roll album with the potential to corrupt the morals of the youth in a fucking positive way, an album that's your best drinking companion, your co-pilot on night drives, awww... fuck it. Just rock and fucking roll, no bullshit. If you buy this record, you're probably going to hell. But you'll go to hell knowing that you made this world a better place and your life less miserable.

www.recessrecords.com

American Psychos

The most retarded band in the history of punk... and it even gets more retarded by the minute. They wrote some of the catchiest songs ever, but why the fuck do they still walk among us?

This is old school...

"Here, my dear" - Photos by Thomas Reitmayer

Yeah, that's right... this is my first real solo art show.



This is what (some of) my loved ones have to say:


"Thomas Reitmayer. A man with a plan. What plan is that? I have no fucking clue. I bet he doesn't either, but that's fine. The plan at hand and the ends to achieve are unimportant. The thing to pay attention to is the means. You see, I know for a fact that Thomas is a big fan of Ed Templeton, of the Dischord and SST labels and artists, and, (in an exercise of lazy journalistic comparison considering this is a brief blurb for a photo exhibit), of Glen E Friedman. Like them, his work ethic is one based on effort and love. Giving 1000% just because you love what you're doing. Rewards and end results are unimportant. You do your shit. And everything else is just filler. Gray area. Bubble wrap around a new shiny toy. This becomes much too evident looking at the images before you. In an age where easily accessible technology makes a 'photographer' out of anybody with too much time and money on their hands, Reitmayer's pictures show an obvious link and a veiled homage to those who made history locked up in a dark room inhaling toxic chemicals. They are alive, plain and simple. Vibrant in their black and white, inanimate objects and anonymous landscape shots seem to have a strange, creepy energy to them. They live. And in this day and age that's pretty much all you can ask of anything that gets pushed your way." - Elías Martínez


"I clearly remember the first time I met Thomas Reitmayer. It was a January sunday night in Vienna, actually my first time there, playing with Obstacles at one of the small venues in the Arena area. After being introduced to him, we quickly found out that we shared common ground with our views on punk rock and aesthetics.

Thomas has always been a loyal supporter of Obstacles, but also one of our most vicious and honest critics - instantly spewing out his opinions, pros & cons with no filter whatsoever. As a friend and an artist, this honesty really means a lot. He always shows a "middle-finger-attitude" towards the world we live in, but when you get to know the person showing this middle finger, you meet a very heartfelt and generous person. Every time we play in Vienna, we know that Thomas will be there, taking pictures of us, sharing what is going on in his life, letting us crash on his floor and giving us lessons on the importance of Bruce Springsteen while we're all, in our drunken state, giving eachother stick 'n poke tattoos until the sun shows its rather unwelcome face in the morning.

Thomas Reitmayer has been a prolific personality in a wide palette of activities concerning the realm of punk rock and skateboarding culture in Europe for longer than most of us can even remember: running a record and skateboard store, releasing records, doing graphic art and posters for bands, documenting all of this with words and pictures along with his companions in the highly regarded GLW/DRK Magazine, and now having his debut exhibition of his photographic works entitled "Here, My Dear".

Until now, I was only familiar with Thomas' live-music photography through his modest, but beautiful spiral-bound book "Listen to Your Heart" - a documentation of various punk rock shows and, even more important, the faces behind the music. While asking me to write a few words about him, Thomas introduced me to his other work for the first time. First of all, I must admit that I, despite my slight interest in art and aesthetics, don't know a lot about this. So, these are not the words from some sort of art critic, but rather words from a person who has no idea about what he's talking about besides what he feels... Folks, isn't that what's the most important thing when it comes to art after all?

What’s striking me when I look at Thomas' work is the subtleties of his imagery. All the photographs are black & white, analog, raw, yet clear, and to some extent very fragile. They seem to have a diary-ish value, as they document sporadic captures of moments that could seem to be very everyday-like, both in their warmth of smiling faces and motives of objects that are fond to the artist, but also in their exploration of random details in the streets that you probably wouldn't notice by the first glance. These explorations, these captures of "common people", tell a bleak yet beautiful story of solitude, but what makes them special is that they never lose a sense of hope! These "common people", static objects, living statues in busy surroundings that are always moving, always on the run, seem peaceful and well aware of their relation to what is going on around them. Maybe they, like the Thomas Reitmayer that I know, show a refusal to be part of this stressful hassle that our world is built upon. I can only guess and speculate about what he wants to tell us. What about you? What do you think? Listen to your heart..." - Jeppe Street Jarlstrøm, Obstacles


There will be a limited and handnumbered fanzine.


January 17th, 2011 through Feburary 19th, 2011
Hours: Mon through Fri 12 - 6 PM, Sat 12 - 5 PM


Yummy
Stumpergasse 31
1060 Wien
Austria

www.yummy.at

The Riot Before - Rebellion

Depending on which dictionary you use, growth is, among many other things "development from a simpler to a more complex stage", or "something that has grown or developed by or as if by a natural process".

Yes, people still use books to look up things. You know, those funny things with words on paper. Some people even still read books, even punks. And now get this: some punks even read books and put quotes from books in the liner notes of their albums. Ain't that weird? Duh!

Every once in a while, you come across a record that knocks off your feet, for whatever reason. Rebellion is one of these records for me, and yes, I will say it gladly: it's in my top ten of 2010. The title of this record is a fuck you in itself: you look at the cover artwork, you either catch yourself thinking "Ow, so these dudes have grown up, and they are angry about whatever", or, more likely: "Shit, they want to cash in on ths success of Anti-Flag". But my friend, you couldn't be further from the truth... let me explain:

Yes, in some ways this is about rebellion itself, because the music here is much harsher and angrier than on their previous record, but that's where the story ends. You are only scratching the surface here, which is cool, but you are missing out. Big time. So take the record title, and juxtapoze it against the Dostoyevsky quote in the insert:

"One can hardly live in rebellion, and I want to live."

The fists were buried in pockets, now they are clenched. Not swinging blindly, though - this is not a record about scene politics or punk rock gossip, this is a record about personal growth, and trying to find your place in a world you don't necessarily like - because "you need to leave from the edge of uncharted lands. / The dark spots on maps where no person has ever been before." This is a record about hope. Not sitting over beers, sighing, but getting the fuck up, doing what has to be done, getting out of whatever shithole you are in, literally or figuratively: a town, a relationship, a bad situation.

And the music? Oh wow. The first song on the record alone is a far cry from previous The Riot Before songs, more Jawbox than Ann Beretta, and probably not due to the fact that Mr J Robbins has been producing this. From a personal experience, I think it's safe to say that these gentlemen are men of taste (not always when it comes to footwear and belt buckles, though). And these gentlemen know how to write a good song. It is essentially pop punk, yes, but this is a not a four letter word. And fuck it, I just decided I'll not drop any reference points here.

Rebellion is a record that grows on you. It's a record that will love in six months, and a record that you will fully come to appreciate and understand in a year. (If you are me, at least.) Until then, it will be a good travel companion through the trials and tribulations of life. Oh, and the good times as well.

Up the book punx!

www.gunnerrecords.com
www.paperandplastick.com

Dirty Tactics - It Is What It Is

Don't you love it when you discover new bands and immediately come up with associations, whether you want it or not? Well, I know I do.

The title of this album reminds me of one of my all time favorite skateboard videos, and the band is from Philadelphia, so how could I not think of the Boss? (And no, I have never seen that movie, and I don't intend to. The idea of Tom Hanks as a gay lawyer sounds as appealing to me as a porn version of Forrest Gump. Thanks, but no thanks. No homophobia intended, but Tom Hanks?! I mean... come on!)

I don't know anything about Dirty Tactics' sexual orientations, but I can feel that they are no lawyers. They're punks. And they seem to be very fucking proud of it. Their music is fast, catchy, and melodic. Nothing that you haven't heard before, but that's the nature of punk rock. (And I am glad it is!) I am not particularly stoked about this record, it's not something I would recommend to everyone, but it makes me happy to know that it simply exists. It's a good record. It's fun to listen to. (LOUD!!!) I hear some One Man Army in a few of the songs, especially when it comes to the vocals, some Pinhead Gunpowder, some Crimpshrine. And even though it will never be an all time fave, it takes me back to a time and a place when things were simpler. It makes me dig out long forgotten seven inches. It makes me happy for the better part of an hour. So, once again in the words of the Boss: "Tell me, friend, can you ask for anything more?"

www.say-10.com

The best record of the year, hands down!

The story behind this album can be found everywhere, so I won't even bother. It's THE BOSS, so you know it's perfect from the get go. But check out this packaging. It gets 7 out of 5 stars according to my own private graphic nerd rating system.

(Oh, and here is a very interesting story about the cover photo. Nerd alert, again.)

"If younger heads quote this, then it ain't all hopeless..."

I know it has been said before, but I will gladly repeat myself... Dälek are the future of HipHop, if there is one. I am not saying this because they are my friends (they are), and not saying this because this video brings up the fondest of memories about Thee Oktopus discussing the glory of Badolato's pizza crust (as compared to New Jersey pizza crust) for about 15 minutes (and more), but because... well, it's the truth.

Let's talk in 10 years, when you're gonna finally catch up and when you start to look beyond the fence that goes around your HipHop mindset. (But then again, who am I to talk shit? When I first listened to London Calling 20 or so years ago, I thought it wasn't punk at all...)

Happy birthday, Bruce Frederick Joseph Springsteen!

Jeff Rowe - Barstool Conversations

Dear Jeff -

I'll have to admit that it took me some while to get into your record. I will be honest with you: I think the design is god awful, but maybe that's the design nerd in me talking. The cover art is really good, the drawing of the empty bottle is something I would frame and put on my wall, but the typesetting of the lyrics... ouch. So well, that was something that put me off initially - that, and my own thoughts about another punk with another acoustic guitar. You know what I'm talking about.

Personally, I would have picked another opener instead of "Passenger". Don't get me wrong, it's a good song, a great song even, but it just doesn't set the mood. "Chasing Ghosts" or "An Island's Point Of View", however, are songs that do. So yes, you had me after the fifth song, and I went from "Shit, I'm sure this dude has some ugly tattoos and a beard" to "Oh, this is a man I would love to drink with". I kept this CD in my player. I listened to it when I got up in the morning and had my first coffee. I listened to it when I was working. I listened to it to fall asleep to - which might sound lame, I know, but it isn't. Now let me explain...

I think a common misconception about records you can fall asleep to is that they are boring. That's bullshit. I can fall asleep to Cannibal Corpse or Pig Destroyer, because blast beat after blast beat is like a mantra, a brainless one, but a mantra that helps me switch off my thoughts. But this only one side of the coin. The other side are records like yours, and I will gladly put Vic Bondi's Ghost Dances on the list as well, or Bob Mould's Workbook, you name it. They're all intense records, they're all punk records essentially, but they speak a different language: they don't scream at you. They comfort you. They are, for lack of a better analogy, the arms that hug you when you're alone in your bed. Barstool Conversations is one of these records.

It's the kind of record you have to have to learn to appreciate, you have to literally get to know it, like you get to know a stranger in a bar sitting next to you, in these small hours when you're drunk and when the borders between good luck and bad luck, between happiness and sadness start to blur, when you fucking feel like telling your most intimate secrets to complete strangers. And in turn, these strangers sometimes speak words of wisdom, of pure poetry, and you want to write them down on a beer soaked napkin, but you don't. In the morning, it's all forgotten, and all that's left is a feeling. Your songs, however, are still there in the morning.

So well, Jeff, I would like to thank you for this record. I would like to thank you that it made me take a trip to the middle of fucking nowhere, just to see you play. Thanks for that. Thank you for drinking with me, thank you for talking about books and music and life and love and struggles and hardship, thank you for that Descendents cover, thank you for singing that Propagandhi song with me, thank you for the t-shirt, but above all... thank you for that record. And now I know that is supposed to be a review, something that should tell people about how it sounds like, how good or how bad it is, why they should or should not buy it, but I say fuck it. I just can't do that.

And you know what? You were right. It's fucking lame to compare it to let's say Tim Barry or Chuck Ragan. Just because they're punks, and just because they play a similar kind of music doesn't mean shit. They might be your peers, true, your music is at home at The Fest and the Revival Tour, but it also makes sense in the backroom of a bar in the middle of nowhere, it makes sense that you are playing and touring with the fucking Landmines, because at the end of the day, it's about two things that you have put to words a lot better than I ever could:

"I've got a love that makes me weak. I've got friends that are more than are more than blood."

Jeff, thank you for making a difference in at least one person's life. And that's the glory of punk, regardless of style or genre or scene, even in 2010...

Your friend,
Thomas

www.jeffrowemusic.com
www.gunnerrecords.com

"Where I was born and where I grew up, being an artist was like being totally insane." - An interview with Irmie Vesselsky

I usually don't like Austrian music. Because, let's face it: 99% SUCKS. OK, 99% of all music sucks, that's true, but there's something about Austria that makes the suckyness even suckier. I am not going to drop names - just turn on that Austrian "alternative" radio station and be prepared to empty your stomach. There are a few exceptions to the rule, of course. One of these exceptions is Irmie Vesselsky. A lady, her voice, her piano, and that's that. She is a master of a long forgotten craft called SONGWRITING. Her album Parentheses of Antitheses is a hidden treasure, and here's a few things she has to say...

What made you start playing music in the first place?

Music itself - and everybody who told me to never ever do it. Music was always there. But in fact, I really tried to ignore it... my parents and my surroundings, "friends" told me to do so. They all gave me the feeling that there was something wrong with me, spending all my pocket money on CDs or instruments and rather "talking to my piano" than to men. Where I was born and where I grew up, being an artist was like being totally insane. So I was a good daughter and functioned, and tried to be what they wanted me to be, and music was my way to escape. Finally a breakdown/burnout back in 2008 made me follow my inner voice, and made me go back to where I was and what I had. I remembered myself as a kid sitting at the piano for hours on end, trying to escape this world, and create my own. It was wonderful. When you're a total mess and have nothig left, anyone or anything to trust or to rely on, and nothing is left but a piano in the corner of your room - what else could you do but talk to her? She was always so almighty, so tempting.... so I couldn't do anything but follow her and let it all out.

What made you realize "I can be an artist, and I can perform live and it's good"?

Have I really realized that? Am I...? This reminds me of what Katherine Hepburn once said: "I think most of the people involved in any art always secretly wonder whether they are really there because they're good or there because they're lucky." I mean, when I started writing songs, I never intended to play them live, to perform them or have them recorded. No one but my cat was allowed to listen. (And she always preferred Bach to my own songs.) When I first played "Unheard" - my first song ever - to her, she ran out of the room, shrieking...

It's quite a long way from writing your own songs to performing them in front of an audience... how did this happen? Who encouraged you? What was your first time like?

It was a long process, and it all happened by sheer chance. Who encouraged me? Well, there was a small bar in the countryside where I used to live. The bartender once came up to me saying "You are going to be a star. I can see it in your eyes.... play for me!" I thought this man was totally crazy and avoided his bar for some time. He then showed up at my place wanting me to sing for him and persuaded me to do a showcase in his bar. It took me quite some time until I agreed. Then, my first time... I really can't remember. I mean, I remember being sick, being nervous days before the performance already. I was very insecure and shy, couldn't stand those people staring at me, and couldn't understand why they were here to hear me play at all. But when I started to play, I forgot everything around me. I was in my own universe, there was just the piano and me dancing together. The applause was like an alarm clock waking you from a sweet dream. That's all I remember. I didn't really know what I was doing back then. I think, I was a mess, but quite a good one, ha!

So, after that “good mess”, it seems like you are playing constantly now, at every chance that pops up. Does it ever get boring? Are you still nervous before a show?

First of all, I do not play everything - it has to feel right for me and for the promoter as well. Playing concerts never gets boring: there's always a different venue, a different audience. Also, the way I play shows might differ. So it's still exciting for me. Things that in fact do get boring are the time between soundcheck and stage time, and moving all the equipment, especially if there's no piano. That's a thing I wish I wouldn't have to do anymore. And yes, I still get nervous! But you know what? Sometimes if I don't, I really get squirrelly, because I think there's something wrong with me. And honestly, I never ever want to "get used" to stage fright or gigging at all.

For some reason I just can't get past the idea of taking your lyrics as something deeply personal. It might be fiction, it might be just words to a song, but... you know. Dare to elaborate?

I wish I could write about something I haven't felt, I haven't experienced in my life, but I really can’t. Sometimes I do start with a fictional thought, but end up somewhere I've been before, sometimes I start with an experience and end up somewhere else my mind is dragging me to. So maybe it's a bit of both, fiction and reality. I could tell you a thousand of stories to each song, and they would all be true somehow - but isn't it ultimately more interesting which stories the listeners themselves create in their heads? It would be less fun if I told them what they should see or hear in this or that song, wouldn't it? Feel it!

www.irmievesselsky.com

Austin Lucas

"BORN TO RUN" IS THE BEST SONG EVER IN THE HISTORY OF RECORDED MUSIC. PERIOD.

Take this job and shove it!