I'm going to try and do a better job of pointing out good writing strategies when I see them. Today's example comes from Liz at Earsplit Public Relations. First, the subject of the email demands attention:
I think that is a great strategy. Before I continue, I should state for the record that I have been receiving
press releases from Liz at Earsplit Public Relations for many years. Early in my days of writing CD reviews, she would send me promo CDs to review. While I
think her writing strategy is something that she has used, unwavering
since I began reading press releases from Earsplit, I am attempting to point out why I agree with the writing strategy as well as to document my feelings within a blog post.
I also think it's worth pointing out the way in which the press release encourages me, the reader, to stream / share the new album. After all, that's why the press release was sent out - to generate support for the band. I noticed how the link is immediately placed under the band's photo and its caption:
Then another link is included two paragraphs later.
There's also the strategy of including links to learn more about the band. In this specific press release, there are 8 hyperlinks, which I numbered below.
There's an online version of the email here that you can read here.
WARSENAL:
Metal Injection Premieres Feast
Your Eyes Full-Length From
Canadian Thrash Trio; LP To Drop This Friday Via Svart Records
"WARSENAL
easily succeeds at what they're doing because they're not just relying
on speed to get them by. Instead, Feast
Your Eyes is a collection of great little passing moments,
killer riffs, the occasional gang vocal, and more shred than you're
going to know what to do with all wrapped up into nine songs." --
Metal Injection
Stream
/ Share WARSENAL's Feast Your Eyes At THIS
LOCATION
Metal Injection is currently streaming Feast Your Eyes,
the impending new full-length from Canada's WARSENAL, in
its thrashing entirety. Set for worldwide release November 15th via
Svart Records, Feast Your Eyes boasts the band's most
forward-thinking assortment of speed/thrash metal rippers to date and
is sure to snap the necks of younger fans and disciples of the
old-school alike.
Issues Metal Injection, "WARSENAL easily
succeeds at what they're doing because they're not just relying on
speed to get them by. Instead, Feast
Your Eyes is a collection of great little passing moments,
killer riffs, the occasional gang vocal, and more shred than you're
going to know what to do with all wrapped up into nine songs."
Stream Feast Your Eyes, exclusively at Metal
Injection, at THIS
LOCATION.
View the band's previously-released videos for
"Forever Lost" and "Doomed From Birth" HERE.
Feast Your Eyes
will be released on CD, LP, and digital formats. For physical orders in
the US go to THIS
LOCATION and in Europe go to THIS
LOCATION.
WARSENAL released a three-song
demo in 2012 and immediately started performing live that same year.
The demo quickly grasped the attention of a Japanese festival organizer
who invited the band to perform on the True Thrash Fest in February
2013 alongside the likes of legends Exciter, Violator, and Sabbat. The
band gained further notoriety upon their return home where they played
shows incessantly throughout Canada. Since the release of their 2015
debut Barn Burner, WARSENAL has remained an active live
act having toured the US, Canada, and Mexico and appearing at various
metal fests including Full Terror Assault with Overkill, Venom Inc.,
Crowbar, Goatwhore, Toxic Holocaust, and more. Stay tuned for further WARSENAL
live invasions to be announced soon.
"This is a fun, powerful and stripped-down thrash
metal record that wants nothing to do with your pizza thrash. Instead, WARSENAL
deal in vicious riffs and hard-hitting vocals that take just as much
from Possessed as they do Voivod. It makes for a fun listen that goes
consistently and unrepentantly straight for the throat." -
Two Guys Metal Reviews
"They have the chops and the tradition to get heads
banging along with enough lunacy to keep listeners on their toes."
-- Indy Metal Vault
"The album as a
whole is an odd amalgamation of tempo changes, piercing aggression, and
technical prowess-each member is the master of their own craft and uses
their aptitude to build upon one another and create miniature
epics." -- Metal Temple
"...one of the
rowdiest albums I've heard this year, and their thrash chops definitely
are not to be questioned. As long as the band keeps compiling killer
material like they did here, they'll be gashing people and spilling
blood for years." -- Meat Mead Metal
"Shredding
solos over breakneck rhythms, bass, and drums; gritty, aggressive
vocals and lyrics; clever, catchy, and hook-laden composing...all are
on full display on these nine remarkable tracks. In short, Feast Your
Eyes is fucking sick." -- Hated One Metal Reviews
I don't have plans to purchase Disney+ so I will be surprised if I actually ever see this series.
Well, it's here at last, and it seems the first episode of The Mandalorian has dived deeper into the Star Wars galaxy than anyone could have expected.
Although the pilot for the first live-action Star Wars series is paced slowly enough, things really kick into gear during the back quarter of the show's very tidy 39 minutes, and the episode's conclusion served up a truly exciting treat of a final twist.
The best place to start here is probably with the elephant in the room, or, more accurately, the little green baby. Anybody who's engaged with pop culture in the last four decades or so will immediately recognize the little tyke in the floating pram as being of the same species as Yoda, the inimitable Jedi Master who schooled Luke Skywalker in the ways of the Force.
Now, The Mandalorian is set five years after the fall of the Empire, so Yoda is of course dead, having passed away during the events of Return of the Jedi.
Here's the thing, though: through the many decades of expanded universe novels, comics, and encyclopedias based on Star Wars, Yoda's species has never actually been given an official designation, at the insistence of George Lucas himself. You may recall that The Phantom Menace briefly introduced Yaddle, another member of Yoda's species, but even then the species wasn't given a name.
Lucas likely did this in the past to maintain the mystery of Yoda's character, and as far as the narrative of The Mandalorian is concerned, this could turn out to have been a wise choice. Since Star Wars is transitioning away from the Skywalkers and their story, it feels like the right time to pull the curtain away from the mystery of Yoda's people, both as an interesting expansion of the galaxy's existing lore, and as a means of injecting The Mandalorian with some well-timed hype.
The secondary surprise behind this literal last-minute twist, is, of course, the fact that this crucial target for bounty hunters across the galaxy is a baby kept under heavy guard on a backwater boulder of a planet. Also noteworthy is the difference between the instructions given to the Mandalorian and his fellow bounty hunter, the droid IG-11. While the Mandalorian is heavily-incentivized to bring his bounty in alive, IG-11's instructions were explicitly to kill, no questions asked.
They are members of the same guild, but were obviously contracted by two different parties with very different interests surrounding the Yoda-like baby. So, if even the remnants of the evil Empire aren't particularly keen to assassinate a baby, who could possibly want the little green guy straight-up dead?
Perhaps more importantly, who could possibly be so invested in the life of this baby that they'd place it on a distant planet, guarded by dozens of men? Of course, it's totally possible that the heavy security guarding the baby was put up by the New Republic, although this isn't made crystal clear, and it could be down to some totally different benefactor, too.
It's also possible that there are different factions of the former Empire vying against each other with the specific interests of either protecting or killing the child. After the end of the Battle of Endor, the Empire became fragmented into a number of smaller groups competing for power and influence. It's also entirely possible that another one of these groups will come into play in future episodes, with our bounty hunters and their young quarry caught in the middle.
Then you've got the Mandalorian himself. The show's protagonist was given a surprising amount of backstory right up front in this episode, but his motivations still remain very murky. For example, he refuses to take Imperial credits as payment for a mission, even though it's stated they still have monetary value, but he has no problem taking a face-to-face bounty from an Imperial. He's also clearly depicted as a hyper-competent and ruthless warrior who always gets his man, no matter what.
But at the end of the episode, he's shown tentatively reaching out with a finger to catch the baby's attention. This character, all at once a hitman, an orphan, and a fellow just trying to get by, has only just been introduced, and already it's clear that there's much more to him beyond his capacity for hunting and killing.
It seems certain that the mystery of what lies underneath that helmet will be a major focus of the first season of The Mandalorian. With the first episode in the bag, though, only one thing is certain: if you were a helpless baby alien stranded alone with half the galaxy out to kill you, this is definitely the guy you'd want as your protector.
This will start out seeming to be irrelevant, but I do have a point.
In my life, I've encountered situations where I was, for the lack of a better phrase, late to the party. This has happened numerous times in both my personal and professional life.
Personally, the best example I can point to is music. I relate to the discussion between Wesley Snipes and Woody Harrelson in the White Men Can't Jump movie, which I believe is a very funny movie with adult words.
So that's your warning!
Private Life Example
My example in my own life is that when I initially listened to Alice in Chains, Anthrax, Slayer, and Megadeth, I listened to those bands, but I couldn't hear these bands. These bands went on the Clash of the Titans tour in summer 1991 and actually played in Cedar Rapids. Because I couldn't hear these bands until after summer 1991, I didn't go see Alice in Chains, Anthrax, Slayer, and Megadeth in concert.
I regret that.
You have NO IDEA how much I regret that decision to not going to that concert. In the grand scheme things of my life, no, it's not a big deal, but I admit that I have thought about it occasionally.
Professional Life Example
In my professional life, one example of being late to the party would be my willingness to learn HTML and CSS. In the early 2000s, I was aware of HTML-based Help (files with the CHM file extension), but I wasn't interested in converting from my help system with 100 WinHelp (files with the HLP file extension) to HTML-based Help (files with the CHM file extension). My argument was that WinHelp files were working fine so there was no reason to convert to HTML. Eventually, yes, Microsoft declared that WinHelp files were no longer going to be supported. That was the push I needed to do the work of converting those 100 WinHelp files to HTML.
Where I am Today
All of this came up because I've been seeing videos by a band called Dance Gavin Dance. I have not taken a deep dive into their material. I think I should so that I am not
left holding the same regret I have about not attending the Alice in Chains, Anthrax, Slayer, and Megadeth in concert in summer of 1991
or
left clinging to the past while the future beckons me forward
Thus, here are some Dance Gavin Dance tunes to hear in my near future.
First, I was looking at a non-public facing web page and, with all but a couple of words hidden to protect the content, this is what the User sees:
Second, I decided to look at the HTML code and, with all but a couple of words hidden to protect the content, the following is what the Developer sees.
But before you look at that, notice line 24. It is a cell in a table with the number 1. Then, in the next cell in the same row, there is text. Notice line 28. It is a cell in a table with the number 2. Then, in the next cell in the same row, there is text.
THAT IS WRONG!!! for a simple reason. That content is NOT TABULAR DATA, which means it DOES NOT BELONG WITHIN A TABLE!!!
Instead, for a numbered list, there should be an ordered list tag - OL - followed by each numbered item within a list tag LI.
I received the following email today at 11:18 AM. I don't know how to summarize it so I'm including it verbatim. The author writes in a very fluid style - I read the first paragraph and wanted to know more. So I read the second paragraph and I wanted to know more. So I read the third paragraph and I wanted to know more.
THAT is what defines GOOD WRITING to me. Shitty writing is the kind where you read the first sentence and think, "This author wants to be the focus and that intent overrides my desire to read what is in front of me."
Good morning, I’m writing this letter to you from the office/studio in the basement of our house in Silver Lake, where I have spent the greater part
Good morning,
I’m writing this letter to you from the office/studio in the basement of our house in Silver Lake, where I have spent the greater part of the last four years. It’s nice in here. Small, with guitars on the wall and a big book shelf I built on the anniversary of my father’s birthday.
We’ve been telling you for a while that something big is coming so here it is: I’ve written a book, a memoir about my life, and we’ve made an hour-long concept record, which is the soundtrack to that book. Both are coming out in the same week next year, the book on May 5th and the record on May 8th.
Both the book and the record are called Hollywood Park.
Mikel, his brother Tony and his father at the Synanon compound in Tomales Bay, CA
Allow me to explain. Four years ago, I told you we were taking some time off. My father had just died and I became very depressed. He was my best friend, so when he died it was as if a light had been extinguished, something like the beacon of a lighthouse in a storm which had always guided me towards safety, acceptance, quiet. It didn’t matter that he’d been in prison or been a heroin addict. What mattered was that he loved me. He was a good man and his goodness was easy to recognize and losing him was like losing that beacon in a storm. I’d been on the road for eight years, I was exhausted and, as it turned out, severely depressed. I hardly left the house for nearly nine months. I put on weight. I cried every day. I talked to him in my head, feeling like the world was an illusion, and beyond that illusion there was only memory.
Sitting in the confusion and bafflement his death created, I started writing songs again. Not with any particular destination in mind but just because I needed the music, the way I had always needed music. To understand myself or maybe to cope. Maybe so I could make a thing and then look at it, play it over and over again and be lost in it, which though the songs were very sad, was a great comfort, for reasons that are hard to explain. I forgot about all those dumb rules I learned about songwriting from the years in the music industry and music became my companion again, just as it had been before I started the band. It wasn’t anything I planned to ever put out.
Many of you know that before the band I’d been a writer, I’d been an on-air columnist for All Things Considered on NPR and published fiction in McSweeney’s and that I was in the midst of writing a novel when I wrote the songs for our first record. I just kept putting the novel down and playing my guitar instead. I turned down a residency at Yaddo writer’s colony to play our first gig. This time the opposite happened. While working on all these songs about my father’s death—my life as a child, his life before I was born—I set aside the music and began to write.
I’m not sure why except to say that when I started looking back, I remembered there was this little boy and this little boy had escaped a cult (called Synanon) with his older brother and his mother, who he hardly knew. You have to understand we’d been taken from our parents at six months old and placed into an orphanage in that cult. That is where my brother and I lived until I was nearly four and he was nearly seven, when the cult became violent and we had to escape early one morning. That little boy never knew what a “family” was because there was no one to ask. None of us did. We were told everyone in the cult was our parents, which of course meant no one was.
Mikel and his brother Tony after escaping Synanon.
We escaped, we lived on the run for awhile, hiding indoors. We witnessed some horrific violence in Berkeley and eventually found ourselves in Salem, Oregon where we went to hide, living on government cheese and the rabbits we slaughtered for food. As a writer, it felt very important to give that little boy a voice, to present the magical thinking of children (at six years old were you sure you couldn’t fly?), the desperate quest we were on to put together a picture of the real world, the world outside the cult, which was emerging around us, a place with restaurants and cars, buses and big buildings and most of all, something called a “family,” something we never knew.
Like so many of the most breathless dreams of the sixties, it had all come crashing down, spectacularly so, in the case of Synanon with its devolution into mind control, child abuse, paranoia and violence. So it felt like we were growing up in the wreckage of something, in this case the failed dreams of the sixties, broke and hiding in some backwater place in the Oregon rain. “Thatasshole” Reagan (I was 12 before I knew his first name was “Ronald”) was president. We lost. Then we retreated. That was the feeling.
I knew we were different. Even then. I knew there was a thread that could be pulled around all the people I saw in the world—at truck stops or laundry mats, gas stations or diners, people raised by their own parents, people who lived in houses and ate dinner and talked about their days, people who celebrated Christmases and birthdays and didn’t spend days in fear of being discovered or stolen, offered up like sacrificial lambs to a political or social experiment they didn’t choose or understand—and I knew we were outside that thread. They were living together in “families” and we were living on the outside, rebels or survivors or fuckups or lunatics.
I’ve learned to hide this story over the years, to remove remnants of it from my speech, the story I told people about myself, because I hated the way people looked at me when I told it, like a wild dog off a leash.
It was in this place — this rainy, lonely, confusing place on the other side of the mountains — that I first heard music I loved and first read the books which kept me company. It was in them that a whole other world was revealed to me, a faraway place with wonderful people who thought beautiful things and they put those things into songs and books. They were my companions, they showed me something, they taught me and inspired me, opened my eyes and gave me comfort on dark nights.
And when I got older, after years of work trying my best to break free from my past, I decided I wanted to be one of these people who sang those songs and I wanted to write one of those books.
To put everything into it like a vessel, a container where I could place the forces that had shaped my life, good and bad—in this case, the escape and the violence, the tragedy of the cult, the orphanage, the loneliness, the anger and fear and blood on the driveway in front of our house in Berkeley, the severed heads of the rabbits we slaughtered for food in Oregon, the idea of my father as this faraway ghost on some highway a thousand miles from the Salem rain. But also put the beauty, the hope, the strength we found, my father’s easy laugh, my brother’s grit and charm, my step mom Bonnie’s big heart and big family who accepted me as their own, the perseverance and laughter and tears, and, most importantly, the people who are no longer here, all the ways in which we changed, we grew, we fell and broke apart, we put ourselves back together through fierce effort, we got up and kept trying.
When I played the songs for the band, the songs I never planned to release, we decided we should make these songs into our next record and it would be the soundtrack to the book I was writing. And we made a pact, together, that we would be a kind of brotherhood (Anna had already told me she was moving on and as you know, I was sad about that but of course proud of her for pursuing her own dreams). The brotherhood had one objective: to make something we loved. Just four guys who love rock and roll making a rock and roll record that we were proud of. It was a big undertaking, a story start to finish with string symphonies and horns, loud guitars and quiet harmonies, children’s choirs and gospel singers, whispers and shouts, silent moments and the feeling like the last night on Earth. Forget the market. Forget the arcane, bullshit rules about songwriting that major labels had been pressing on us for years, and just fucking play. For the joy of it, the feeling like we were making something new, something which inspired us and contained everything we loved about music.
The record is based solely on scenes from the book. And for me, over time, it too became a quiet place I could return to, a place where I could visit the people I lost, the people I could no longer talk to because they weren’t alive anymore.
And something about doing all of that — putting all of this into one place — became, like magic, a way of talking to that little boy, making him feel less alone in this confusing world where he grew up. Because what he didn’t know is that all of you were on the other side of that conversation he was beginning to have—that glimpse of the beautiful, faraway world he saw the first time he ever opened a book.
see you on the road —
Mikel Jollett
You can pre-order an advance copy of HOLLYWOOD PARK — HERE.
PS - There will be an 11 city book tour. Tickets include a copy of the book, entrance to the reading (and conversation!), and a question and answer session. Info and ticket links below.
PPS - There is more to come. This is only the beginning.
MIKEL SOLO BOOK TOUR:
Fri May 1 - Los Angeles, CA - West Hollywood Library – BUY TIX
Sat May 2 - San Francisco, CA - First Unitarian Society – BUY TIX
Mon May 4 - Brooklyn, NY - St. Joseph’s College – BUY TIX
Tue May 5 - New York, NY - The Strand – BUY TIX
Wed May 6 - Washington, DC - GW Betts – BUY TIX
Thu May 7 - Providence, RI - Columbus Theatre – BUY TIX
Fri May 8 - Boston, MA - City Space – BUY TIX
Sat May 9 - Austin, TX - Book People – BUY TIX
Mon May 11 - Chicago, IL - Everybody’s Coffee: Wilson's Abbey – BUY TIX
Tue May 12 - Denver, CO - Tattered Cover – BUY TIX
Mon May 18 - Seattle, WA - Town Hall – BUY TIX
BAND TOUR DATES
Tue Mar 31 - Los Angeles, CA - El Rey – SOLD OUT
Wed Apr 1 - Los Angeles, CA - El Rey – SOLD OUT
Thu Apr 2 - Los Angeles, CA - El Rey – SOLD OUT
Sat Apr 4 - Los Angeles, CA - El Rey – SOLD OUT
Tue Apr 7 - New York, NY - Bowery Ballroom – SOLD OUT
Wed Apr 8 - New York, NY - Bowery Ballroom – SOLD OUT
Thu Apr 9 - New York, NY - Bowery Ballroom – SOLD OUT
Fri Apr 10 - New York, NY - Bowery Ballroom – SOLD OUT
The University of Iowa wants to buy more land in North Liberty. The Iowa Board of Regents is being asked next week to approve spending nearly $2.2 million for about 22 acres adjacent to 38 acres the university already owns north-northwest of its Iowa City campus. It's unclear what the university has planned for the land, and officials have declined to outline the university's intentions. A sign that's long been in place on the 38 acres says a University of Iowa health care facility is "coming soon." The 22 acres are owned by a church.
