Kevin Devine – No One's Waiting Up For Me Tonight | EP Review

For nearly two decades, Brooklyn’s Kevin Devine has carved out cross-genre niches in his musical pursuits, whether it’s with emo cult favorite Miracle of 86, folk rock supergroup Bad Books, or collaborations with the likes of Craig Finn and Meredith Graves on his Divinyls Splits Series. Devine’s latest solo project sees him going back to singer-songwriterly basics. No One’s Waiting Up For Me Tonight is wistful and introspective, allowing for Devine’s delicate melodies and thoughtful lyricism to take center stage. Though at times the moody-broody Elliott Smith worship goes a bit too far-- lines like “God transmissions through my higher mind” warrant an eye roll --Devine manages to build off of his indie folk influences in a striking way.

Take the standout track “I’ve Never Been Happier Than I Was In That Picture,” a rose-tinted waltz through memories of a past romance. As he paints vivid scenes of still life drawings in deserts and barefoot fountain dances during a Brooklyn heatwave, Devine gives thanks to a former lover for the moments of joy that have been preserved by memory. His bittersweet gratitude is backed by a shimmering, Sufjan-esque string arrangement-- the most elaborate on an otherwise instrumentally sparse EP. 

These songs float between appreciation and regret, with memory serving as the throughline that tethers them to one another. There are times where it would seem easy for Devine to overindulge in nostalgia, an impulse which he artfully resists. The EP’s most striking moments come when Devine undercuts his own tendency toward romanticism with the occasional blunt one-liner: “you weren’t peaceful, you weren’t in love,” he sings on closing track “All There Is Now.” His ability to embrace both the beauty and the ugliness in his reflections on the past strengthens each emotional blow. The regretful “Taking Shape” juxtaposes Devine “coughing bloody yolk, threading a minefield blind” with Simon And Garfunkel-style vocal harmonies. Meanwhile, “Lakes On The Moon” is a stripped-down acoustic statement of humility, forgiveness, and loss. 

Composed in quarantine, No One’s Waiting Up For Me Tonight is imbued with anxieties about an uncertain future as well as the promise of personal growth. It’s a testament to self-reflection, but more than that, it shows Devine questioning how he can use this period of solitude to head into the unknown. Even in its loneliest moments, there remains a quiet hope. 

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Grace Robins-Somerville is a writer from Brooklyn, New York. You can find her on Instagram @grace_roso and on Twitter @grace_roso.

The Treacherous Experience on the Outskirts of Ordinary Life

What is the everyday mundane? How does mundanity differ from person to person, and how do we cope with something that seems so simple? We’ve survived well beyond a year of the same monotonous process every single god-forsaken day. The difference is that this mundane has been coupled with a deadly everlasting pandemic for the past year and a half. Stuck in what feels like an eternity, the weight of being a cog in the capitalistic machine has never felt so close. We’re all chronically burnt out, questioning what we know, and breaking new ground despite everything weighed against our existence. For trans folks especially, this year has been one blow to healthcare and human rights after another. It is exhausting, but we have to push through all the heartbreak, the loneliness, the gender dysphoria, and the identity growth if we want to find a happy resting state. Through the chaos of our reality, self-reflection and acceptance nevertheless persevere. We must learn the hard way that running from ourselves only makes things worse. 

Trans people push through the mundane while consistently juggling the social encounters and internal processes that come with the experience of transitioning. It is conflicting thoughts and feelings that haze over the mind on a consistent basis. What do we do on days where this is especially prevalent, and all we can feel is how much we don’t fit the everyday process? How do we escape, and what are we escaping from? Coming out as a transgender woman, Reade Wolcott captures every emotion in her experience transitioning with an album jammed-packed with trans ska banger after banger. Showcasing the crushing weight of a cookie-cutter existence, We Are The Union finds happiness in coloring outside the gender binary lines and creating a reality that is far from ordinary. If you need that iced coffee and estrogen straight to the veins, then We Are The Union is here to provide all that, and a whole lot of serotonin with Ordinary Life. 

This album sends you full swing into a ska-filled summer with opening track, “Pasadena.” Right off the bat, the listener is hit with catchy lyrics of a failed relationship portrayed in a manner that everybody can relate to. With a mental state cracking and causing division and conflict at every turn, Wolcott sums up the feelings of being mentally ill in a long-term relationship. 

and it’s a shame
your secret smokes in the alleyway
to numb the pain
to escape the everyday mundane

What’s so fun about Ordinary Life is how successfully Wolcott writes about the transgender experience in ways that everyone can relate with. Through catchy ska-punk tunes, this album conveys how similar the existential dread feels from person to person. Despite the upbeat instrumental, this opening track foreshadows the depth Wolcott reaches in showcasing what makes that experience unique for her as a trans woman.

Wolcott’s ability to sing about the transgender experience through relatable anecdotes makes for a conceptual album that is handcrafted and delivered for queer fans while easily digestible for the cis fans. It is a widely accessible album that never falls short in poignant prose but doesn’t hide the transgender experience behind any curtains or veiled analogies. Each song is far from anything in the realm of the ordinary. Instead, they champion transparency and complete honesty to create an album that fully grasps the transgender experience for everyone to hear. Ordinary Life demands your attention and holds it for 35 minutes straight.

With the lead single, “Morbid Obsessions,” we are met with the album’s thesis. As showcased in the music video, this album is all about burying your old self, laying the relationships that don’t serve you to rest, and becoming brand new. The concept of transgender feelings as morbid obsessions is cunning, especially with the analogy of zombies used in the video. It brilliantly illustrates how an overwhelming majority of the public views transitioning as some fucked up fixation. The quite literal zombie-like feelings come from the alienation felt by trans people in a capitalistic society that wants to shut you out completely. The metaphor of the plague doctor as a bouncer symbolizes sexual control and police brutality towards LGBTQ people enacted by the state. It also shows the religious right-wing’s desire to eradicate the trans community entirely. This video depicts the intolerance that queer people face whether they’re coming out, actively transitioning, or expressing their gender.

When you’re trying to stuff gender-related feelings deep down inside, interacting with others is met with fear of accidentally confessing and outing yourself. The cleverness of this band is exhibited in the “No Zombies Allowed” sign at the bar where the video takes place. Feeling like a sore thumb, Wolcott turns to leave but is stopped by Jeremy “Jer” Hunter, best known for their slapping covers over on Skatune Network and carrying the We Are The Union brass section. Through storytelling, “Morbid Obsessions” gives us a glimpse into discovering and redefining your gender around the people you love. 

Jer’s role in this video is riddled with underlying experiences of living as a nonbinary person. As Wolcott made an entrance with every zombie trait on display, Jer’s features are more subtle and easily covered by a hood. The experience of living in the in-between is best captured with this role and conveys the similarities in gender non-conforming and trans identities. Although not privileged with the same abilities to pass, Wolcott forges camaraderie with Jer and fellow zombie Gracie Pryor. Together, they break the bar rules and defeat the plague doctor once and for all.

now in come the drugs
in come the drugs and the booze
razors, wrists, and self-abuse
trapped like a rat, got nothing left to lose
she wanted a dress
like all the other girls
a head full of curls
they said “son, you can’t always get what you want in this world”

Whereas bands like Home is Where weave feelings through intricate metaphors embroidered in extrospective observations, We Are The Union capture the trans experience from the inside out. It feels like the band is processing each new emotion as they unfold. 

This means every track possesses an introspectiveness sprinkled with a healthy amount of one-liners and humor. While Self Care sought to normalize mental health, Wolcott now takes on the task of normalizing the trans experience as a whole with Ordinary Life. The result is a record full of pop-punk melodies coupled with excellent 2-tone rhythms. It is honest, upfront, and genuine, with summer vibes bursting at every seam.

Best fitted for skanking your heart out in sweaty basements, Ordinary Life is a vibrant record that wears its heart on its checkered sleeve. The record’s sound is a far cry from the blacked-out, classic punk of Against Me!’s Transgender Dysphoria Blues, but is so rich with the trans experience and solidarity that it brought me right back to the first listen of that defining trans album. However, with each listen of Ordinary Life, it becomes clear that to compare We Are The Union to Against Me! would be an understatement. These are two bands for different moods and different parts of the process. Transgender Dysphoria Blues is the battle cry to transitioning with room to spare for letting out composed rage, while Ordinary Life is all about the messy in-betweens, fucking up, and dancing on the grave of your enemies and past self. 

We’ve arrived at a new era of trans-lead music that blends genres while showcasing brilliance in so many different types of writing and creative endeavors. 100 gecs took the past two years by storm, and Left at London released a fantastic new album on the same day as We Are The Union, to just name a few. The art that these bands craft follow varying lyrical, instrumental, and electronic techniques that are consistently inspired by the ever-changing world around them. Bands featuring trans musicians are captivating the world, with brilliant music that sticks in your head for months but also provides an umbrella for fans who identify as trans or nonbinary and have never had such an array of relatable music before. 

Being trans is never black and white, and every song off of Ordinary Life is a trans anthem that beautifully reflects that nonlinear journey. This path always circles back to the extraordinary. Still, the record is also mired in the mundane experience of transitioning within a society that wants to file you down and stuff you into made-up, categorical gender norms. As a nonbinary person, I cannot possibly understand the extent of transitioning. Still, I hope my ability to relate to the feelings of being controlled by the gender binary until you finally reject it speaks for itself. The overwhelming comfort I felt hearing these songs goes to show the universality in navigating the gender experience.

afraid to disappoint
so i fail everyone around me

Attempting to suppress conflicting gender thoughts is an all-consuming process. Short-circuiting occurs when these disconnected thoughts jump in the way every time you try to speak. As a result, you end up feeling jumbled, which leads us into the next track entitled “Broken Brain,” which reinforces the concept of absent-mindedness. Dulling the brain to get through the everyday is a consistent theme throughout this album. For example, the band drops lyrics about using vices to cope with mental health that contrast with survival tactics and medicine that help Wolcott achieve self-actualization. In what is perhaps the most iconic line of the record, “please inject me with iced coffee and estrogen / we’re panicking again,” self-medication and hormones are followed by the overwhelming sensation of failing to escape the ordinary.

lists inside of lists, a labyrinth
how do people do the things they plan to?
lost the day again laying in the grass
sweating every conversation i’ve ever had

What is ska if its brass section can’t transport you to another world? Jeremy Hunter delivers on this album with a killer trombone that carries as much emotion as the lyrics themselves. What perfectly pairs with a diagnosis of depression and dysphoria? A horn section that sinks deep into your soul. Flanked by Tenor Saxophone, Baritone Saxophone, and multiple other trumpets, the brass section led by Jer is accompanied by Kevin and David Miller, as well as contributions from Scott Klopfenstein. The dynamic and emotive instrumentation on this album is not to be missed for the way it keeps you on your feet and sticks like glue to your brain.

With Ordinary Life, we get eleven tracks of unbeatable trans anthems tied together with themes of breakups, heartache, depression, and ADHD. The best part? This album provides the full range of emotions in equal parts universal and unique to Wolcott. In a BrooklynVegan interview, Wolcott touches on the goal to bring normalization of every emotion in an easy-to-grasp way that extends far beyond transgender struggles. She notes, “what I really tried to do was to frame the trans experience and frame dysphoria alongside things that are maybe more relatable to the general public, like heartbreak, like ADHD, depression, all the more common themes that we've kind of touched on in the past." Through this, we have a record that is dynamic, widely relatable, and full of songs for every mood that specifically hone in on the trans experience.

Are you feeling beat down, bummed out? Shaken all the good vibes out with the last few tracks and need to switch it up? “Make It Easy” is the love song of every queer’s dream. We got the perfect and undeniably adorable music video, catchy guitar and basslines, an alluring trombone, and Brent Friedman’s incredible percussions that act as the backbone of the tune, with Jer carrying the motif throughout. The drums featured in “Make It Easy” pull you in, push you out, and throw you back on your feet without missing a beat. The builds of the snare and floor tom in this song are sharply highlighted to make it feel like being lifted off the ground. These drums pair brilliantly with the crescendo of the trombone to close out the front half of this record with hopeless romanticism. 

When the needle hits the backside of the album, we are instantly met with a sensational syncopated nod to the roots of ska on “Boys Will Be Girls.” Complete with aesthetic references to Backstreet Boys, this tune breaks every single gender norm, gives a shout-out to nonbinary people, and smashes the deeply held fear of the trans community commonly upheld by the right-wing of the political spectrum. This single laughs in the face of fear. It laughs at the absurd notions held by small-minded people that being transgender is a plague or that the COVID-19 vaccine will turn kids gay or trans. Instead, “Boys Will Be Girls” is a triumphant and multi-colored celebration of the trans experience.

throw a tantrum, hold a sign
as the infantry arrives
we’ll take back the city tonight
the kids will be alright
your old ways will die
in the darkest depths we’ll stand here in the light.

The people who created and enforced the rigid gender binary are scared. As gender is the backbone of patriarchy, the threat of that crumbling invokes hatred towards trans and gender non-conforming folks. Old notions are left to retire as the common consciousness of gender shifts, with inclusivity and reason guiding the way. Forging new paths in identities that match the way we feel is the only way forward. 

From there, Ordinary Life winds from substance abuse on “Wasted” to finding solace in accepting the imperfect parts of your reality on “Everything Alone.” As the record winds its way to a close, the band ends with a rebuttal of the ordinary. Finally, after dredging through all of these feelings, mundanity, and coping mechanisms, Wolcott leaves the listener with a poetic articulation of the trans experience. 

change your clothes in the shadows
let nothing pass through lonely doorways
your sandcastle crumbles, but you’ve never been better
is it real if we don’t swim in the shame?

like a swing set in the sea
we are anything but ordinary

With these lines, We Are The Union charge forth in the undertow, looking for anything but the ascribed ordinary. Wolcott is triumphantly rejecting her ordinary, burying her past self, while using a garden as an analogy for sowing the seeds of a life that's anything but ordinary. As Wolcott so poetically sings, “the only difference between a garden and a graveyard / is what you bury in it.” With this, she finally lays her dying parts to rest, becoming brand new in the extraordinary. 

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Ashley Bedore is a disabled, queer music lover living in Denver, CO. They can usually be found with a record spinning, head buried in theory, and cats on either side. As a sociology major and community organizer, Ashley enjoys discussing accessibility and collective care in the scene to foster spaces where every single body belongs. Follow them on Twitter at @emomarxist.

Parting – Unmake Me | Album Review

Today will be different
Today will be the same
The same can be different
In some weird kind of way

The ironic thing about Parting is that Unmake Me feels like coming home. The self-proclaimed “original emo revivalists” display the return of Keith Latinen (Empire! Empire! (I Was a Lonely Estate)), Ben Hendricks (Annabel), Gooey Fame (Dowsing), and John Guynn (Hawk & Son) asreturning flag-bearers of the genre. This isn’t fifth wave emo, but rather an evolution of your older sibling’s favorite bands from high school.

“Jesse Eisenbird” shows off a more refined version of Latinen’s voice while detailing the death of a family member between intricate, complementary guitar work. While the genre is known for making listeners feel things, this introduction to Parting breaks hearts and leaves one begging for catharsis.

While it feels cliché to call artists mature, “Ratt Michards” candidly recounts how the grueling life of nine-to-fives leads to depression. Despite this not being too crazy of a take, Latinen and Hendricks’s harmonies carry the notion over a driving bass line that teases the necessary catharsis needed after “Jesse Eisenbird”: “Knowing you need to change / is easier than / making changes.” You can almost hear the college crowd drunkenly belting this one back from the pit.

“Stapler’s Monster” slows the tempo for Parting just to show their strength as songwriters. After two solid, hook-laden songs, dueling vocal lines allow room for more vulnerability before our revivalists jump back into the hooks with “After the Fact” and “Maybe He’s Blinking When You’re Blinking.” The penultimate track, “He’s Obviously Beekeeping Age,” shows a more experimental, patient, electronic side of Parting. Think Jimmy Eat World’s “Pass the Baby” meets the trumpet fare of early Foxing.

Again, Unmake Me’s sequencing shines in this setup, laddering up to the catharsis of “Living Proof.” Like a feather floats to the ground, the gang vocals that kick off the denouement of the record are begging to be sung at the end of a late night. Yet it’s Latinen’s final words that bring us the closure so desperately needed after careening through the previous songs: “I’m living proof / of carrying through.” After what’s been a handful of rough years for myriad peoples, Latinen’s lines will hit home no matter what your background is.

Parting arrive just in time for the party, as though everyone was anxiously awaiting them. Then, immediately after the last note rings, they bow, leave, and make you wish they never left the stage. Unmake Me’s 18 minutes aren’t enough time with Parting, but you’ll want to flip this record right over and play it again after that final guitar chimes.

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Joe Wasserman is a high school English teacher in New York City. When he’s not listening to music, he’s writing short stories, playing bass for Save the Robots, or loving his pug, Franklin. You can find him on Twitter at @a_cuppajoe.

Returning to Completion - An Interview With Coaltar of the Deepers

When is a work of art finished? Rembrandt spoke to this question when he said, “A work of art is complete when in it the artist has realized his intention.” It’s a question that I keep coming back to as I listen to Revenge of the Visitors, the new(ish) album from Japanese shoegazers Coaltar of the Deepers. The album is a re-imagined spin on the band’s 1994 debut, The Visitors From Deepspace, featuring the original members. So, after twenty-seven years, why has Coaltar of the Deepers felt compelled to rework the album? 

The Visitors From Deepspace was, and still is, a triumph of shoegaze. It helped set the foundations of the heavy shoegaze popularized by bands such as Hum and Deftones by incorporating elements of death and thrash metal as well as the anthemic hooks of alternative rock with shoegaze’s ethereal textures. Traditionally, artists reissue an older album with a remastered mix and add some bonus cuts or commission other artists to remix the songs in their own image. Coaltar of the Deepers eschew this path in favor of tinkering with an old work in the hopes of making something new. Segments of songs have been altered through both addition and subtraction. Sometimes the edits are slight and require a keen ear to notice, but a select few are striking in difference from the 1994 versions. It’s a risk to attempt something like this. By altering the past, the band could easily take away from the infectious energy of The Visitors From Deepspace, but I am here to tell you that Revenge of the Visitors is a resounding success. 

Within seconds of hitting play on Revenge of the Visitors, the difference between the two albums is clear. As you would expect from twenty-seven years of technological advancements and artistic development, the most noticeable change is heard in the album’s sound. The drums benefit the most from this improvement as each hit rings, distinctly amplifying the frenetic pace that is kept throughout the album. The original vocals are often straightforward and struggle to stand out from the loud guitars, whereas the new renditions are elegantly layered, resulting in a fuller sound. Revenge of the Visitors finds the band leaning into their love of metal. 

In regards to production, the changes between the two albums range from subtle to sweeping. Their thunderous death metal cover of The Cure’s “Killing An Arab” is punchier, and the new distorted growls of lead singer NARASAKI bring to mind the gurgling bellow of Mortician’s Will Rahmer. “Earth Thing” and “Summer Days (Revenge)” each replace clean vocals for harsh shrieks giving the songs sick yet pleasurable twists that keep them fresh. The most prominent omission is the decision to remove the ska horns from “Blink (Revenge).” It’s a wise choice as the brass sound feels dated and out of place from the rest of the album. The closing track “The Visitors (Revenge)” is the furthest departure from its counterpart, ditching what was once an abrasive hardcore song for haunting psychedelic ambiance.

Revenge of the Visitors is an improvement on The Visitors From Deepspace in many different ways, but it’s also a new experience. The band understands that the energy and passion in the performances is what makes their debut great, and they have heightened these strengths through thoughtful and precise edits. It takes courage for an artist to trust their vision and alter a work that many believe to be complete and magnificent. Coaltar of the Deepers are teaching us a lesson in trust, and Revenge of the Visitors is a 27-year-old reminder that a work of art may never be as complete as its audience sees it.

I sat down with NARASAKI, lead singer and guitarist of Coaltar of the Deepers, to discuss recreating songs, getting the band back together, and diverging from artistic expectations. 

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More often than not, bands decide to just reissue an album with a new mix to the sound, but you have gone in a different direction. What led you to revisit and re-imagine your debut album, The Visitors From Deepspace, as Revenge of the Visitors? 
First of all, regarding this release, it is important to have early members do live gigs now, and since a new album was needed for the overseas tour, those members re-recorded the first album. We had a hard time because I thought it was impossible to make a retake that exceeds the original.

Following up on the previous question, some of the songs feature significant changes from their 1994 versions. For example, “The Visitors (Revenge)” is a haunting ambient track where the original is an intense hardcore song. How did you decide which parts of songs would be altered?
There is no doubt that this song was, and still is, an improvisation that everyone records as a jam. Both the 1994 version and the 2021 version are about 20 minutes in total, but it is an excerpt from that part. This time, the same theme as last time was included, but it was never used. This sound is used to signal that the VISITORS have already invaded.

One of the most exciting things about your music is how you incorporate different genres and sounds to create something truly unique. Regarding your songwriting process, are you making a conscious effort to blend genres, or is it something that just happens naturally?
I wasn't messing around naturally; I was trying to do something strange. Because at that time, I thought that uniqueness was the identity of the band. Music around the early ‘90s had a genre called crossover, and this album was influenced by it.

I sometimes feel that shoegaze bands can be overly somber and serious but, your music is very anthemic and whimsical. Do you feel that this is a fair assessment of your sound?
Yes, I do. I'm familiar with shoegaze as a genre, but I was originally a hardcore punk band, so it's better to do an aggressive live performance. Isn’t it funny doing that shoegaze sound with a deformed guitar with a sharp head in the first place?

It’s clear that your sound is inspired by alternative rock and shoegaze, but some of my favorite moments on Revenge of the Visitors are the flashes of death and thrash metal. Who are your influences when it comes to the harder metal side of your sound?
I like fast and heavy metal sounds. At that time, a grindcore band called Terrorizer was a favorite. On the contrary, I have hardly heard heavy metal that is light and has a melody in the song.

Heavy shoegaze has become very relevant the past few years, with newer bands like Greet Death and Narrow Head making strong albums as well as established veterans Hum making a fantastic comeback. Do you associate yourself alongside bands such as these? 
No, I don’t think so. But I like those bands, they all have great sound. I think we are not allowed to enter any frame. We are always trespassing LOL.

While Coaltar of the Deepers has been consistently active the past few years, this is the first full album since 2007. Do you have plans to release more music in the future?
I'm thinking of a new attempt, and I'm already recording it. I think it will be released once it is organized.

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Connor lives in San Francisco with his partner and their cat, Toni. Connor has an MFA in creative writing and is working toward becoming a community college professor. When he isn’t listening to music or writing about killer riffs, Connor is obsessing over coffee and sandwiches.

Follow him on Twitter or Instagram.

Someone Once Told Me 001 – Nicole Boychuk (I Hate Sex, Illustrator)

In the first few bitter cold months of the past, wretched year I found myself chatting with a friend about how much we mutually disliked Midsommer (2019). After sharing a couple laughs over the half-baked plotline, we started to steer in to more vested conversation (the kind where one walks away learning something they will always keep with them) where I was first told something I would think about each day after: "Your friends are your future".

The above-mentioned friend-in-conversation is Nicole Boychuk. You may know her from past project: I Hate Sex, or her series of illustrations on Instagram, or on a much more personal level lucky enough to call her friend.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by nicole boychuk (@nic666le)

Whatever the connection may be, and for whatever reason you may be here reading this; let me be the first to welcome you to Someone Once Told Me. Short-form conversations with artists and creatives about the best advice they've ever received. 

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Alex Couts: Let's start with some history. Who told you this advice and how do they fit in your life? Where were you when you received this advice?

Nicole Boychuk: The advice came from Nicolas Field, who I met through the community after seeing his band La Luna in 2013. La Luna was the first time I had ever seen someone who looked like me playing aggressive music and having that admiration and inspiration from Vanessa Fever (Vocals in La Luna) compelled me to do the same.

Over time, due to the remote nature of Alberta, IHS and La Luna formed a strong touring bond with one another, sharing each others' cities weekend after weekend and being perpetually inspired by the community they were experiencing and the art they were creating.

Eventually, La Luna moved their operation to Toronto and Nicolas and Vanessa became a part of the beloved New Friends Fest. In 2018, IHS was able to play their final show as NFF headliner. After flying in a couple days ahead of the rest of the band, Nicolas and I were on our way to the airport for them, discussing future endeavors and ambitions.

absorbing the luxury of the moment, Nicolas mentioned in passing "Your friends are your future" while talking about the insanity that we were even able to be there--doing music at such a complete level--entirely because of the steps we had taken in one another's lives.

That is what caused me to think more about what had happened entirely leading up to where I was in that moment. That there would never be any possibility of doing anything like this without the engagement of friends. Fully understanding the weight of the connections and people that you will meet, and how they will inform the steps you take to the different places in your life.

I need to mention this isn't networking or some business connection, this is about seeking the company you keep to be there to build you up and help you grow due to the love that they are there to show you. It's about finding the people in your life that will mean the most to you and working hard to keep them there.

A: Noting that IHS is much a past part of your life, how do you find yourself applying the advice forward in your life?

N: IHS is a closed chapter of my own life now, that has its own fondness and nostalgia, so the phrase takes on a new meaning for me than it did in that moment when I first heard it.

I think of it as a measure of mindfulness, returning to it most when watching the shallow performance of social media unfold in front of me most days. I see people engaging with others across platforms, with clear intentions of their statements and actions being only for personal gain.

There's a lot of concern coming from people to be strongly individualistic, and present that forward as much as they can through platforms. From my view, it would seem like we could all learn to be better to one another if there was effort to be less individualistic and focus on connecting with people in whole ways and be able to look back on things with sentiment.

This interview for example; I am not thinking about this as "Alex is going to write about me and my band and then so many people are going to read it and the art is going to be so much more popular," .. I am thinking about waking up tomorrow morning being happy that we got to spend this time together to talk about something meaningful and sentimental we share with one another and be that much closer because of it. There is a rather simplistic nature to it all, and the value of the moment in connection and what that adds to the foundation of our relationship is much more important to me than whatever may become of this piece.  

A: You drew the intentions of this series right out of me. The whole reason I started this was to create focused opportunities to have engaging and meaningful conversations with friends, strangers, and whoever else has something to share. I'm not here for personal gain, and the goal of putting better advice into the world is only secondary. Maybe it's selfish, but I mostly want to hear what my friends have to say about their life experiences. SOTM is just a catalyst to have that conversation.

A: Who needs to hear this advice? What kind of resolve do you imagine this bringing to someone hearing it for the first time?

N: I think people exploring new creative ventures, especially those with a method of exchange in some way, would benefit from hearing this the most. Especially after this past year, people will need this idea re-enforced after being so distant from one another, and not having as immediately apparent feelings of community and friends.

It hasn't been as easy to see the little red strings that connect us through everything this past year.

A: red strings?

N: Like a PI mapping out their investigation. Think about it this way: if one of us is at the top of the mountain, whatever accomplishment that is, everyone that was involved or we experienced in getting there are the stones that lead us up the path. I'm thinking a lot about Tim Richard right now, who was like IHS's secretary.

... the I Hate Sex-cretary..

A: nice.

N: We would spend eight or so hours a day together through classes in university, which is how we came to know one another and he came to be involved with the band. He was never an "official" member, but IHS would have never been what it was without his efforts. He put together promo materials, did merch, came to countless shows, helped us out with places to sleep. We would have never survived as a band if it weren't for the kindness and love that Tim showed us. If that relationship never existed, none of IHS would have been known for what it is.

A: Let's wrap everything here together with one last present, future outlook: how has this advice influenced how you live and interact with others?

N: I think the way the advice has impacted me is putting value in the connections and the little red strings that connect all of us, and create something bigger than any of our respective individuality.

Lately, I've been hard at work putting together a discography release and have learned that the process is leaning on those past relationships more now than ever. Feeling much as if there is no reason why anyone should be helping out with this, but finding that they are because of the cemented and personal natures of our relationships. There are so many people out there in the world, some I've never even met in person, that are willing to give parts of themselves to this effort.

It's been a gift to realize so fully that the people you surround yourself with, and have made it into your circle, are there for a reason. They are choosing to be there to share their kindness and love with you because of the love that you have shown them, and that beauty is so needing to be appreciated.
I made a tweet earlier this year (and then probably deleted it) during a rougher time that read something like: "there are people in your life who put up with your shitty existence for whatever reason, you need to thank them for that."

A: retweet.

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I Hate Sex was a screamo band from Edmonton, and Nicole Boychuk is the bleeding heart of meaningful connection that anchored the group's sound over the years. As written in the sacred scripture of skramz and needs to be remembered now more than ever: "skramz is for friends, but there is no happy here"

Someone Once Told Me is a collection of conversations with artists and creatives about the best life advice they have ever received. Our logo is by Nicole Boychuk and my name is Alex Couts and I'd love to hear what you have to say. Drop a line on Twitter @VirusesForFree or just shout profanities at me from a moving car. Both are equally effective.