Revisiting a Mix Tape I Made Freshman Year of High School

Every year since 2005, I’ve made my friend Kendall a mix tape.

I do not recall what prompted the tradition, other than we constantly shared Pure Volume and MySpace links with each other and making a tape felt like a decidedly “cool” endeavor to take on.

Brand New’s “Mix Tape” was probably another strong motivator.

Kendall, being the great friend that she is, has kept all of these tapes over the years. They have become a hub connecting the adolescent spokes of nocturnal suburban driving, discovering the intoxicating effects of music, and navigating the bends toward adulthood.

Or that’s what I tell myself. Let’s see what happens if I force myself to listen back to my first mix tape.

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My Five Personal Favorite Records

Inspired by some friends, I recently logged my record collection into Discogs. It was pretty fun and led me to dust off quite a few records I hadn’t listened to in a while and brought me back to when I had acquired the record. While I didn’t reorder my records autobiographically,  I did take a page from Rob Gordon’s book and make a top five list around my personal favorite slabs of wax.

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Kyle’s Annual Review – 2014 Edition

I used to write an annual review on my (now extinct) Xanga, but they sadly didn’t survive the Great Xanga Content Migration of 2013. It’s probably for the best, they were mostly about Brand New anyway.

So here it is! Using the all of the finest technologies afforded by WordPress and HTML: Kyle’s Annual Review – 2014 Edition.

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The Bug @ Good Life – Bassic Boston – 10.10.14

1:15 AM, GOOD LIFE, BOSTON – I walk into the men’s bathroom, pass up on the urinal filled with with vomit, and walk into the stall with the busted lock. I stare at the half-finished tallboy spread across the floor, catch snippets of early-aughts radio rap leaking in from upstairs, and suddenly the cold, apocalyptic drone of the air raid siren overflowing from the downstairs seems much more fitting. Sometimes our actions beg for an atomic wiping of the slate.

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For Jawbreaker Day: The Best Jawbreaker Songs

I remember when emo broke to the  high school kids in my town (thanks, Jimmy Eat World) and everyone quickly began drawing lines in the sand regarding which bands fell into this often maligned, frequently misunderstood category. I was one of them, diving deeper and deeper through All Music, trying to figure out where this sound came from and where it fit between hardcore, punk, post-hardcore, and everything else. Like everyone else, I wound up in Washington D.C. reading about Dischord Records and Revolution Summer, but it was San Francisco’s Jawbreaker that caught my eye. A badass name, a perfectly tortured album title (it doesn’t get much better than 24 Hour Revenge Therapy to a 15 year old male) , and, most importantly, an iffy cover by Brand New were all I needed to check out a band. Years later, it would seem my shithead 15 year old self didn’t mess everything up.

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