Monday, April 13, 2026

the sound rockers prayer in 2026: an addendum

“And what do your rainbows do?

What do your pride flags do?

What do your rainbows do, 

here on the ground?”


Ezra Furman



the sound rockers prayer in 2026: an addendum

when I wrote the original sound rocker’s prayer two and a half or so years ago shift as a night time security guard at the museum of fine arts in boston, I intended it not as any sort of moral or ethical guide, more of a way of encouraging people to look at their work differently, look at their work in their own terms rather than anybody else's terms. I didn't feel comfortable telling anybody what to do, it was merely the crystallization of a couple of years of listening to music, making music, observing patterns, things that worked, things that didn't, what was effective, what was not effective, what made me feel deeply and what didn't, and trying to investigate what those mean and compacting it in a concise statement in the style of nietzsche’s “the gay science” and harmony korine’s “mistakist declaration,” a way for people to escape the artificial boundaries that separate them from their own work.

but,

the landscape has changed in the last couple years. a lot of what I said has come to fruition, a lot of people (not by my doing necessarily) have sort of followed down this route, but there have also been new forms of stasis and stagnation in rock music. as an american, I have realized that there is a certain duty that a musician, an artist has in this day. 


in short:

this is not a time for beautiful things,

this is not a time for detachment ,

for distance, 

for dreaminess.


this is a time for direction,

anger,

love,

the deeply felt,

and highly motivated.


if things happen to be beautiful then that's okay, but it seems very superfluous to try and create beautiful things now, when there's so many more pressing things at hand, so many evil forces at play. 

we live in a world that wants to destroy us, wants to destroy love and communion between people. pop music is the way that we are able to see each other, and we need to embrace that, and to make work that ignores this current moment is a fool's errand. 

my conditions for the original sound rocker’s prayer was sort of a reaction against what I saw as a very large meaningless shoegaze movement, but this has become a now very widespread meaninglessness in “indie rock,” 

irony detached,

irony poisoned,

“nonchalant, mysterious”

songs about nothing. 

there are many people making these songs about nothing that say nothing, feel nothing. 

what good is your formalist feelingless rock music if you know people are getting pulled into unmarked vans and getting shot on the street by fascist thugs? you know, i'm not so foolish to think that JUST art can change anything, but to ignore what's happening is stupid and careless. more than anything, the sound rocker’s duty is to PEOPLE, to other people, the people of the world, the downtrodden, the marginalized, the forgotten brothers and sisters, a duty to uphold core beliefs of egalitarianism and equality and equity, that we are all god’s children made in his image, that we all have love and beauty to give. i dont care that it isn't "cool" to believe in things and stand behind them, it's "cringe" to state the obvious until it isn't, and the clock is ticking. are you gonna let Nazi Hipsters guide the human race? cuz i sure won't! (not that most of them won't be naturally deselected by leaving this mortal coil on a pile of whipits and fent laced bags on the floor of some anti woke basement in the arms of some disinterested racist vassar girl 20 years their younger, but regardless)

my work used to be in the past mostly dealing in very personal matters, interpersonal matters, but as said before the truest statements for the sound rocker are the ones that are deeply and unequivocally felt at the time of creation, and now I feel coursing through me into my current work a duty to this sort of righteous anger, unbridled rage. 

we must escape despair, we must escape hopelessness and detachment.

we must meet our moment with the language and the sound that it deserves.

we can't half-ass anything.

we can't mince words.

we need to be blunt and direct and say the things that need to be said so that others who need to hear them can hear them.

anger without resentment. 

righteous vengeance,

justice.

and we'll all be sisters all,

the sound rocker takes the wonderful and horrible things of the past and present to envision a more beautiful future for Everybody, the sound rocker’s duty is to the moment. go now, and join in heavenly communion, sing songs of love and hate, the songs are the thing they can never ever take away from you.

Lex Walton, 4/13/26


“They came in by the dozens,

walking or crawling.

Some were bright-eyed,

some were dead on their feet,

and they came from Zimbabwe,

           or from Soviet Georgia

                   East Saint Louis,

                     or from Paris,

or they

lived across the street,

but they came,

and when they finally made it here,

it was the least that we could do

to make our welcome clear:

‘Come on in, we haven't slept for weeks,

drink some of this, this'll put color in your cheeks.’”


John Darnielle


introductory sound rocker reading list (in no particular order):

todd rundgren, nina simone, blue gene tyranny, sly stone, alex chilton, B L A C K I E ALL CAPS WITH SPACES, yoko ono, jacques brel, dear nora, alice low, tom lehrer, little richard, kevin Ayers, hasil adkins, trevor horn, shuggie otis, david peel, pat flegel, damo suzuki, art and language, r stevie moore, arthur russell, robert rental, yaz, the ink spots, kurt weill, john paul young, sun city girls, the toms, gang of four, graham smith, chad matheny, travis miller, the zombies, leland (the self taught decathalon hard rock musician), martin hannett, brian wilson, robert fripp, palm, king tubby, phil lynott, liz phair, jimi hendrix, marc bolan, joe meek, tori kudo, the mops, brian eno, bradley noel, blaketheman1000, brainiac, the raincoats, six finger satellite, leonard cohen, kurt cobain, darcy clay, outkast, the calendars, tall dwarfs, the seeds, the sonics, the troggs, the golden cups, yung lean, tony iommi, siouxsie sioux, michio kurihara, silver apples, sonny sharrock, ten in the swear jar, gary numan, malcolm mclaren, pylon, the b-52s, yoni wolf, bobby conn, the shaggs, the waterboys, robert pollard, charlie lomonaco, wreckless eric, ric ocasek, guerilla toss, ludus, the castaways, the barbarians, lee hazelwood, sean nicholas savage, psychic tv, the red krayola, ann steel, laurie anderson, tonetta, my little airport, gza, helen love, linda mccartney, trent reznor, kayde hazel, wolf parade, bill callahan, robert lester folsom, john fahey, kevin dunn(!), ultimate spinach, early porches, tommy wright iii, early mac demarco, country teasers, the dan emery mystery band, bruce springsteen, mark e smith, kate bush, emerson borakove, tmbg, tokyo ghetto pussy, bubblegum octopus, gwen stefani, scott walker, nick lowe, robert smith, ryuichi sakamoto, wild man fischer, zach hill, vini reilly, SOPHIE, zach phillips, doronco gumo, the knife, vashti bunyan, cameron picton, haruomi hosono, soulja boy, jules, pharoah sanders, the monks, magnetic fields, jonathan richman, wire, the descendants, ezra furman, almendra, slint, ? and the mysterians, minimal man, solid space, washington phillips, neil young, the millennium, the unicorns, the the les paul, the space lady, wesley willis, glenn campbell, lee scratch perry, timbaland, wilson pickett, shin jung-hyeon, christopher owens, barry and the remains, connie francis, the book of love, molly nilsson, the stooges, jobriath, roy orbison, grill-tones, edwyn collins, the units (sf), television personalities, tommy james, sparks, the kinks, phil spector, slapp happy, the endd (russ sanders), royal trux, greg oblivian, k porcelain, pete shelley, tonstartssbandht, pussy galore, rivers cuomo home demos, emitt rhodes, prince, ronnie spector, the ramones, hank williams, van dyke parks, matt fishbeck, townes van zandt, the replacements, atlas sound, steve monite, the bee gees, coma cinema, jerry paper, matthew danger lippman, the voidz, john lennon, ricky nelson, arthur lee, rocketship, thinking fellers union, bobb trimble, strawberry switchblade, buffy sainte-marie, pisces, eddie harris, the clean, the bats, the pains of being pure at heart, nick gilder, kasenetz & katz, russ ballard, william orbit, the bonzo dog doo dah band, buddy holly, depeche mode, horse crazy, martin rev and alan vega, gene pitney, zager & evans, halisca and sheetrock discover america, xiu xiu, miles davis, sam ray, the mighty sparrow, harmony cuddle, et mensah, kwaa mensah, stevie wonder, charlie megira, glenn danzig, das racist, john s hall, jad fair, julius eastman, john prine, new order, bob marley, bill bruford, madonna, katie dey, asher white, matt farley, ed askew, masato minami, william onyeabor, akon, pauline oliveros, rae sremmurd, flo & eddie, amps for christ, robert schneider, ween, adrian borland, the pretty things, track star, the mountain goats, eddie van halen, michael hurley, pmfd, ecco2k, the frogs, stephen malkmus, labi siffre, jorge ben jor, glad i didnt get my stupid wish, friends&, emily green, ladyfinger, gavin caine, erik satie, orchestral manoeuvres in the dark, adrian belew, archie bell & the drells, kanye west, of montreal, polyrock, will toledo, syd barrett, don lennon, pharrell, ricky bascom, cody chesnutt, gilberto gil, volcano!, devo, blood brothers, miharu koshi, lady gaga, best friends forever, the tammies, hunx and his punx, jay reatard, the femcels, avey tare, joni mitchell, lil wayne, caetano veloso, little wings, takashi mizutani, peter ivers, bradford barker, devi mccallion, ariel pink, earth opera, godz (nyc), clipse, the lampreys, van morrison, rxknephew, john frusciante, cooper b handy, jarsch, the streets, scotty malcolm, shadow morton, abner jay, glenn branca, steve harley, mayo thompson, mayo thompson, mayo thompson, and interpol (just kidding)


dedicated to all shoplifters of the world and everyone who lives to erase distinctions



Tuesday, October 22, 2024

death in october

wading through trash to set up my speakers and interface so i can play tyrannosaurus rex - unicorn on foobar2000 while the nihilist neofolk femboy surveys my room hungry for more things to make fun of (foucault books i havent read, lack of a closet, empty cans, disposable enemas, etc). he asks me "do you not feel embarrassed by your tiny, filthy room? you get laid in here?" i say "yes" to both because it is only a lie in regards to the former, and lies like that are a great way to defend against making people feel bad for having realized that they are making you feel exceptionally bad. he lays on my bed scrolling through the everything app while i sit in my chair alternating between eyes closed tight and throwing them against my marx brothers poster as a plea for help up to the end of cat black (the wizard's hat). the only words i can choke out are "doesn't this sound just like sung tongs?"

i pay eight hundred fifty dollars a month i only have from ebegging on a pale green closet with no closet that i try to avoid being in as much as possible. he showed me a bunch of neofolk and i only liked some it but i think he thought i didnt like it because of the nazi aesthetics (which im not gonna lie and say im a big fan of but i think i understand the subversive intentions of gay british occult guys) but it was mostly because its really boring largely and sounds like if stephen merrit was on nitrous and also plausible deniability maybe maybe not racist. i think im making a bigger deal of this than i need to but i have the kind of executive dysfunction where thinking of opening the mailbox makes me want to throw up. im naked in my bed in the afternoon now listening to tyrannosaurus rex - unicorn and its not helping as much as i want it to even though it is the only record that makes sense a lot of the time.

whatever

Thursday, September 19, 2024

3 poems

the roland taverner of rock and roll 

listening to the new why? record with the taste of two 12 oz red bulls and vomit and duty free rez cigarettes in the back of my throat
im scared to see her roommates, spending the week listening through the walls.
all our bedrooms can be so imperial.

they call it friendly fire.

im spending whole interviews talking bout how much i love medication as if that will make it work
a nurse walking by my bed mid seizure at wyckoff heights yelled to another, "it's faking it." how could she have possibly seen my instagram bio?

doubt can be the foundation of your relation to yourself, if you allow it.

its called getting paid to drive vans in service of concepts
its called being half recognized on the train
its called erotic slapboxing for drunks
its called googling how to countersue in the psych ward
its called self imposed lolcowing from ages 14 to 34
its called a million djs playing to a million empty rooms on a million thursday nights
its called real or perceived abandonment
its called being in a line of military sons
its called pretending youre both boys
its called Narragansetts in the cuck chair
its called a place to marry strangers
its called an early bed
its called 
(sorry, sorry, loud)
its called a point where most people would give up, but youre too stupid to, and thats okay. some wouldn't call it stupid.
a former lover, mid ██████, suggested that i go to the doctor.

there isn't always a lesson.
sometimes it just happens to some people for no reason.
illness begets illness, i guess
maybe my gift is holding hyperbole about the bay city rollers in one hand and the smell of someone's breath who does not come around anymore in the other.
even if you slip up,
they call it friendly fire.

song for emerson b.

if we pretend we're drunk, they wont suspect we're faggots; if we say too much, is that really a fault on our part?
going to sleep next to you with the smell of me still on my lips.
i want to listen to animal collective live bootlegs with you off of laptop speakers while we do the crossword
and i want to i want to i want to i want to

you know what it takes to finish me
we all believe in thoughts formed as pure, but...

i want to i want to i want to i want to
read cannery row i want to recline the chair 
i want to 
i want to be able to get out of bed, i want to smell your hair, i want to never close my eyes,
to hold you and shear you and wear you

when i say "god, youre so beautiful," the entire sentence is addressed to you

if we pretend we're drunk, they wont suspect we're trying; if we say too much, that might be a fault on our part.

all i feel is guilt and love
all i do is sing, cry, and fuck
hypotheticals hang in the air, your breath takes me

starlite walker texas ranger 2

up on allegory mountain up on plato road,
i deleted starlite Walker from my downloads folder
im a horse with blinders with binders full of women, pinned down bound i said to her: "what are you gonna do, fuck me to death?"

"youd like that too much," and as if divined: sitcom applause.

i had a bed in today and im not sure if it was for peace
i think it was mostly for killing myself
i took a look at my face and saw forgetting to shave
i took a look at my face and you left the running lights on
i took a look at you left the running lights on and saw more more more "I" statements
i took a look at my downloads folder and didnt see starlite walker 
i took a look at my work and saw john ashbery chemically castrated
I, Old man took a look at my life you're a lot like i was
24 and there's so much more, right? do you promise?

i took a look at you.
you left the running lights on.
the car wont start.
the battery is dead.

standupshots

 


Monday, July 1, 2024

last day

 i did what i do best (making sounds when fingers are run against [read: punched]), you do everything just perfect (as if you've never seen it before),


"different textiles create such different feelings!" ¹


¹ my dying thoughts through heat stroke as we stage act 2 of our admittedly flawed but well intentioned reenactment of middle school homoeroticisms: i wonder to myself how these underwear could possibly be comfortable as i dig my palm into her cock,


across her stomach was like first snow

light catching on untouched expanse of pale

and soft,


i saw your curls stick to a face plunged up and down in sweat, savory taste, a weight against you well trained.

there was no memory here, i was spared the rod if for just a moment:


seeing your eyes lock, defocus, close, my hand on your sacrificed calf.


she (other) asks me if i want to bleed for her. we all take great delight in killing me. killing me. (look at me quivering saying this and say you feel different, and ill show you...)


i knew i loved you before and i know i love you now, precious lamb without blemish, to be shorn with a gentle, firm grasp at the wrist. 


in the last day we create definitions for words no one has ever said and try to be on our best behavior. finding myself at her (other) doorstep barely there,


(but not alone [and never alone


on the last day we created meanings, if not new, then new to us; and if not new to us, then i dont fuckin know man. fuck you.


Sunday, May 12, 2024

GT041522DVD.mp4

In the annals of musical history, April of 2022 stands as a chapter of profound resonance as GRILL TONES, in their original configuration, graced the stage for one last unforgettable performance on stage at Ralph's Rock Diner. This momentous occasion unfolded against the backdrop of the departure of esteemed founding members Liam Shepherd, Adrian Anderson, and their compatriots. Through the lens of an enterprising young film student, we are afforded a candid and factual glimpse into the intricacies of that fateful evening.