When I was eighteen years old, I played in a band with Chris Hembrough. I smashed the windows of his house one night in a drug and alcohol-fueled rage. By 2008 (about four years later) we were friends again, but the kind of friends who rarely – if ever – hung out. He called me and asked if I’d come see his band play. They asked me if I could help them out with a few things and one thing led to the next. I convinced them to change their name (originally Portman). I helped them put together a demo. I booked an East Coast/Midwest summer tour. I started Traffic Street Records to make their next release appear more legitimate.
We drew some boundaries after a bit of tumult. I continued to put out their records, but I didn’t want to have to do any other chores for them and they didn’t want to put up with my mental illness. Part of me thought that without my incredibly skilled hand on the wheel, the band would crumble to shit. Part of me was wrong. Rational Anthem has grown to become one of my absolute favorite bands. And thanks to some serious, long-term inpatient treatment, I’m no longer a mixed blessing or a liability for them. I’m just a friend and a fan.
We sat down for two hours the night before they left town for their sixth annual U.S. tour to talk about their (often our) misadventures along with the kind of personal stuff that wouldn’t normally come up if we were just hanging out as buddies.
That’s the introduction I wrote for my interview with Rational Anthem in the new issue of Razorcake. If you’re not a subscriber, you can get a copy right here. The interview’s really lengthy and came out really well. Thanks a ton to Todd Taylor for being an excellent editor, to Bambi Guthrie and Marc Gärtner for their photographs, and to Keith Rosson for doing a killer layout.
It’s Tuesday – my one day of routine. I got home from my session and my meeting and found a package waiting for me.
Rumspringer’s “Staying Afloat” LP and split 7-inch with Sister Kisser. Low Culture’s “Screens” cassette.
I’m pretty sure that the colored vinyl has been sold out for a good while now, which would mean that Chris (of Dirt Cult Records) sent me one of the copies he had set aside – unprompted… because he’s a sweet, wonderful human being and probably figured that it’d make me smile.
Also, I know this is silly but (even though I’m sure it has nothing to do with me) it makes me happy that Rumspringer still use my handwriting on their records, inserts, and other stuff.
Low Culture is the new(ish) band from Chris and Joe of Shang-a-Lang. “Screens” is their debut full-length (CD/LP on Dirtnap; cassette on Dead Broke) and it was produced by Mark Ryan of The Marked Men, which is a really excellent pairing for them.
Here’s a stream of the Sister Kisser / Rumspringer split as well.
And here’s the only other piece to slip through the cracks early on (like “Dear Diary.”) It’s the fourth painting in “The Weak End” series and the text says, “WHAT YOU DO IS.”
“Valuable Feedback.” 2/16/13. Acrylics, resin sand, and fabric dye on cardboard. 16½x18”.
When I threw this online before, I just noted the title and the text in relation to lyrics from “48 Doublestack” by Rivethead (We’ve rejected what you’ve got to show for the trade-off: a life spent just waiting for orders and taking the shit from the parents, the bullies, and bosses. The fault’s no one’s but your own ’cause you couldn’t stand up and say no). Which makes me feel a little… um… redundant, in light of “Stand Up and Say No,” “Mowgli,” “Whatevermind,” and (probably) a few others that escape me at the moment.
Anyway, this was an expressive process. I played with colors and shapes, then looked to them to lead me forward. I saw this slug-type character, reclined, which brought to mind someone who (so far as I could tell) did little but recline. And criticize. And had been offering a lot of advice lately. Which has always struck me as funny: the way that thoroughly unhappy people tend to give advice.
I won’t say whom I had in mind when I made this. Only because I think the negativity that’d come with the disclosure outweighs the value of the honesty and release that I’d get from it. And I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. This is, after all, a mean painting. And I was feeling mean when I made it. Because my feelings were hurt.
That’s the way it goes. Someone’s hurt. They respond with anger, to hurt the other person. Who then responds in the exact same way. It’s a sad, ridiculous cycle.
I can honestly say that I could make the disclosure (without ill will) at this point, but I can’t control whether this person would recognize that. And I’d rather not fan a flame / keep the cycle going.
In 2011, I was still turning up to shows and fests but, each time, it would be more obvious that I was deteriorating into heroin shit. At that year’s Fest in Gainesville, I remember standing with a big crowd of friends outside Durty Nelly’s. I forget the context, but I declared myself to be “the coolest kid in the world.” Servo corrected me: “No. You used to be.”
While in rehab for the first time, he sent me an email and reminded me of that moment. “What I forgot to add,” he wrote, “is that you will be again.”
A few months back, I was asked to help out with some stuff for Rational Anthem’s new record. One of my tasks was to get the high-res logos for each record label and forward them to Bill Pinkel, who was doing the album art. One of the labels was Servo’s. When I asked for his logo, he asked me if I’d draw him a new one.
Here’s one of many great songs (“So Happy For You” by Lipstick Homicide) off of one of Bloated Kat’s many great releases (LH’s new full-length, “Out Utero.”)
“Moving Boxes (and Little Else).” 5/24/13. Tempera and pen on paper. 12×16″.
She might be scared, but that has nothing to do with me, my choices, my attitude, or my … how I’ve been.
I’m ambitious and I have confidence but moving out starts the ticking of the clock. It sets the deadline for my success or the date of my failure. Not moving out is what I’m comfortable with. But how long is it okay for me to stall intimate relationships so that I can enjoy myself (and do the things I want to without worry)?
Is it okay for me to be okay? Complacency. Fear. Priorities. GROWING UP. I understand far less than I let on. Strange that someone with all the answers in interactions has nothing but questions when alone.
That’s the text within this piece – painted in my Friday expressive art therapy group at Tranquil Shores. It was getting closer to the time Heather and I had talked about picking up and moving to Jacksonville. We were bickering a lot. I had asked her what was really going on. When she failed to come up with anything, I suggested that maybe she was scared about moving to a new city. After all, it wasn’t me. I’m itinerant! I’m punk! All we do is move. We have no roots. “I don’t live anywhere!” She, on the other hand, had never moved to a new city before so she was scared and that was making her irritable. Obviously.
But this was expressive art therapy and (in therapy) we don’t look at what’s wrong with other people, we look at ourselves. So that’s what I tried to do as I painted and – when I started writing – all of this suddenly came out of me.
God dammit. It was totally me. I was terrified. If I moved to Jacksonville with Heather, I’d suddenly be responsible for rent and utilities and who knows what else. I had been out of (inpatient) treatment for three months and thus far was doing great. I was supporting myself without having to give in to reality and get a real job. (Which – in hindsight – I realize may not have been all that impressive a feat considering that I had absolutely no bills to pay). But if I moved to Jacksonville and came up short on money for bills one month, all of a sudden, I’d have to admit that I was wrong. I’d have to get a job and acknowledge that I couldn’t support myself creatively…
Maybe I should just break it off and stay in Bradenton and live with Taylor’s family forever…? I don’t need a girlfriend or to be an adult or…
God dammit.
“Moving boxes and little else” is an acknowledgment that I had moved more times than I could count but was terrified to move forward.
But I did! And – so far – so good.
This piece is important to me because the process of creating it really was revelatory. I had spend a lot time thinking about this stuff and had gotten nowhere. After I made this piece, the bickering between Heather and I stopped completely. It’s pretty remarkable how much garbage sometimes lurks just below the surface (and how badly it can fuck me up). This piece is proof that art is essential to the maintenance of my mental health.
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Here’s the song I quoted in this entry. It’s from the new Dead Mechanical album out soon on Toxic Pop (who split released the last DM full-length with Traffic Street (that’s my label, you guys!)) When I lived in DC, I spent a lot of time in Baltimore. When I wasn’t copping or shooting heroin, I was usually at a Dead Mechanical show. (Sometimes both!) But getting to see them play all the time was definitely one of the best things about living up there.
Here’s another song from the same record. Just ’cause.
Hit the Toxic Pop website to check out the album art (by Julie Benoit!) and pre-order the LP, which starts shipping next week. (I know the site says that it starts shipping in early August, but Mike (Toxic Pop) sent out an update changing the shipping date due to delays at the pressing plant).
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This painting is currently for sale. Or – if you’re not a big spender – you can pick up a signed and framed (behind glass) print/poster that’s the same size as the original.
“My Favorite Cartoon.” 1/15/13. Pen on scrap. 3×4″.
I was sitting in an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting and I was pretty bummed out over (surprise!) a girl. (I’ve astutely noticed that this seems to be a pattern). You see… When we saw each other just before we went into the meeting, she hadn’t paid me quite as much attention as I felt that I needed (ALL OF THE ATTENTION).
So, as I had become prone to doing, I tried to work through my anxiety and hurt feelings with a pen and a piece of paper. I drew a little cartoon, but I wasn’t happy with it. Which made me even more upset. So I tried again. Annnnnnnd… same result. I put my pen and paper on the floor and decided to just sit in my misery and sulk. Because I so enjoy feeling that way. (Who doesn’t?!)
But that was what the old Sam would do. So I begrudgingly picked my pen and paper back up and started again, not even knowing what I was drawing. And this is what came out.
And then I wasn’t upset anymore.
So while I really like this cartoon, what makes it my favorite isn’t necessarily the cartoon itself as much as it’s evidence that I can use art to heal all my stupid, petty wounds. It helps me step back and realize that every little thing that happens around me is not (and is not meant to be interpreted as) proof that I’m a worthless, unlovable piece of shit.
Here are some related images…
This is the original as I’ve framed it. Underneath the glass, the cartoon is “laminated” in packing tape because… [see next picture for more]When I had *my very own apartment* at Tranquil Shores, I took it upon myself to “decorate” (to the extent permitted). Of course, I put my favorite cartoon on my front door. To protect it from rain though, I had to “laminate” it first. After a couple days, I was told that I couldn’t have it visible outside like that, so I hung it from a piece of scotch tape, just inside my front door, to greet any/all visitors.At Dave Strait Fest in Minneapolis last weekend, I picked up a copy of New Noise magazine. There was a feature on Rumspringer, in which Wes describes meeting me. I was selling records outside of Common Grounds and handing out fliers with a list of bands with upcoming releases on Traffic Street. In the feature, Wes says something to the effect of “Sam swears they weren’t business cards, but they totally were!” I thought it was funny that I found that article while attending another fest, at which I was (arguably) distributing “business cards.” But *this* time, I wasn’t giving them to people, I was…Using my homemade keychain to tape them up to walls, signs, bike racks, and all other vertical surfaces. “Business cards? Yeah, right! These are stickers! I just don’t have a major label budget like all these millionaires with pre-stickified stickers. There’s this thing, maybe you’ve heard of it. It’s called punk.”
I just saw the shirts that I drew up for Lipstick Homicide and… I’m a little bummed out that they’re inverted and kind of want to know who’s responsible for fucking that one up. Those b/w-art-in-a-white-box designs that I do are about as easy to *not* fuck up as it gets.
And I know it doesn’t matter where along the line it got fucked up and that I shouldn’t care anyway, but… I don’t know. It’s a bummer when you spend some time on something, turn it in, and this happens.
Or maybe – if this is an issue to me – I should take that as an indication that my life must be pretty wonderfully worry-free lately if things like this so much as register a blip of concern.
Also, how did the A in “POMONA” get lost?
Anyway, this is only partially mine. I mean, I drew it, but it’s one of the only things (or maybe the only thing) where I was told pretty much exactly what to draw.
On the road with my favorite band for the next 8 days. Come watch awesome bands and smoke cigarettes with me! (Maybe we’ll even have some generic sports drink!) I get pretty wild, you guys.
I’m posting from my phone so… apologies if my “presentation” is a little sloppier than usual.
Tomorrow, 8/14: St Louis
https://www.facebook.com/events/560132427378218/
Sun, 8/18: Des Moines
https://www.facebook.com/events/177409535770042/
Mon, 8/19: Carbondale
I don’t have the link… It’s with Future Virgins… more info TBA. (Noelle has the info, I think, but she’s not actually with us ’cause she’s a rock star who doesn’t ride in the van with Chris, Pete, and I).
Tue, 8/20: Valdosta
Same story. It’s at Red Room Records with Johnathan Coody (Ninja Gun) though. More info TBA.
Wed, 8/21: Tallahassee, Gainesville, or Orlando
This hasn’t been booked yet so more info TBD (and then A).
![This is the original as I've framed it. Underneath the glass, the cartoon is "laminated" in packing tape because... [see next picture for more]](https://sammythrashlife.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/08/myfavoriteframed.jpg)
![At Dave Strait Fest in Minneapolis last weekend, I picked up a copy of New Noise magazine. There was a feature on Rumspringer, in which Wes describes meeting me. I was selling records outside of Common Grounds and handing out fliers with a list of bands with upcoming releases on Traffic Street. In the feature, Wes says something to the effect of "Sam swears they weren't business cards, but they totally were!" I thought it was funny that I came across that while at another fest at which I was (arguably) distributing "business cards." But *this* time, I wasn't giving them to people, I was... [see next image for more]](https://sammythrashlife.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/08/myfavoritesticker.jpg)
