considered items, bag flotsam and van occupants accumulated from damn tour… accruing junk (and not junk) to remember individual days and where, who and why, then how certain creases appear or maybe even when and where some things get lost too… remains meaningful / important to me thx for all the stuff and kai i’m sorry i spend so long in the record stores

Watership Down Immigrant Sun 1997 “The wind is blowing, blowing over the grass. It shakes the willow catkins; the leaves shine silver. Where are you going, wind? Far, far away Over the hills, over the edge of the world. Take me with you, wind, high over the sky. I will go with you, I will be rabbit-of-the-wind, Into the sky, the feathery sky and the rabbit. The stream is running, running over the gravel, Through the brooklime, the kingcups, the blue and gold of spring. Where are you going stream? Far, far away Beyond the heather, sliding away all night. Take me with you stream, away in the starlight. I will go with you, I will be rabbit-of-the-stream, Down through the water, the green water and the rabbit.” 🐇 thanks @xtightdickiesx for the 7” and @_507e_ for the book

Bollyn Thompson “Build Your Foundation” Royal Production 1984

Elaine Brown “Seize The Time” Vault Records 1969

Featuring the talents of Carissa’s Weird violinist Sarah Standard as well as their original drummer Robin Peringer, who plays here alongside ex-Kill Sybil bandmate Tammy Watson, the short-lived Small Stars released two seven inches in 1998. First, the above, on Up Records, home of bands like Modest Mouse, Duster and 764-Hero (with whom Peringer would later find himself playing bass) and the second, “One Verse / Waste My Time,” released that November through Kill Rock Stars’ “Mailorder Freaks” singles club. Both elegantly integrate Standard’s string playing with the well-established hospitality of Pacific Northwestern twee, and are similarly and lovingly decorated with moths—lepidopterological layouts whose silent fluttering aptly evokes deceased loved ones, infested cabinetry, biblical forewarnings and asexual reproduction.

in one week’s time, i’ll be embarking alongside @thenumerogroup to ~pop up~ in certain cities and sell wares along the west coast… including many of these records in nice and awesome reissue format! if you will be in las vegas for BFF festival, san francisco, or portland at all in the coming weeks, come find me! ps one of these records is actually a reissue can you guess which one 😈

Every summer I visit my family out east, who live nestled just east of the of the stretch of the Blue Ridge that cuts through Virginia. My grandpa owned a radio station in rural West Virginia in the 1980s, and because of this, he has thousands of bizarre country LPs piled up on each other in an outbuilding behind his house. Because most of the time there is very little else to do, I tend to spend my days there picking through whatever I can dredge up from that shed, and since pop country and white folks’ private press gospel from the 1980s is just about the most undesirable and unfortunate type of music to get stuck with thousands of LPs of, I do my best to find whatever might be worth something and sell it online or back home for my grandpa. Next to nothing in there is remotely interesting, and even less is something I could make my grandpa some money off of. However, by virtue of being a radio station in Appalachia, there are of course some fantastic album covers of varying degrees professionalism and/or artistic pedigrees that deserve at least some recognition.

worms of the senses in summer bulk… surface of the sun’s sidewalk… tapered dark… clasping hands and a shared fearful temperament. clouds in the corner of the room, can things ever be this good again?

Kashmere Stage Band - Zero Point (1972) The only way out is through! Happy Friday and a great getting up morning to those who celebrate. Here is a recent heavy and somewhat unexpected slammer that landed at my feet, urging to slide on and slide down the fire escape, zapped by the sun, who being itself again, has chosen to affirm a whole lot of post-ecliptic clarity with its buzz.

herlovebeheadsdaisies - carving initials (2023) Wreaths of spores release and helplessly drift over the sidewalks, people are laughing. Nicotine effigy paid for in envelope cash, thank you dubnation. The great unbecomer looms. Going to start preparation by flossing my teeth with magnetic tape.

Cloud One - Atmosphere Strut (1976) One hundred and twenty beats per minute. 🪩 Underneath the charcoal grey denim jacket, the words “DEATH BEFORE DISCO” peeked out in bold red type as the wearer did his rounds of the classroom, hopping from t-shirt to t-shirt in search of one that he could comment on. The computer speaker’s Aerosmith were locking my senses into a selective dissociation when my memory fell upon the “Disco Purgatory” skip-a-turn, do-not-collect-$200 punishment within the music trivia board game my girlfriend’s dad had us play. A nation driven mad. Stadiums of bonfire and audience militias. A&R’s turning up their nose at the first beat of a four on the floor after using it up and sucking it dry for the last half-decade like some perverted courter dissatisfied with his aging bride. Do you hate the disco or do you hate the dance? Careers come screeching to a halt because some coked up white guy in a booth said “can we bring the string section up a little bit” too many times? It’s okay, just move to Europe, you’ll be fine, they love you there! “What you got against disco?” snapped out of my trance to say to the former WWE lawyer. “Nothing really,” he shrugged. “It’s just a conversation starter.”

a smattering of seven inches~ recent and friendly repeaters- once you step behind the curtain you’ll never come out the same! …. …. #lync #carsgetcrushed #gravityrecords #krecords #everyoneaskedaboutyou #midwestemo #posthardcore #emocore