Monday, January 3, 2022


It's January 3rd, and I'm in the process of figuring out my goals for the year. I have most of them figured out, they're in a Note on my phone, and I feel good about them. Most of my goals are professional (I got into real estate last year, if you didn't know), but there are a lot of personal goals on there, too.

One of the personal goals is to get into a much better routine when I wake up. I spent so many years working the morning shift at a restaurant that it's really, really hard to change what I'm used to doing. Since I had to be at work at 7 every day, my morning was really just waking up 45 minutes before, getting dressed, brushing my teeth, and heading out. Since the first thing I did at work was start coffee, there was no need to make any at home, and it's a restaurant, so breakfast was easy.

I've been pretty good at implementing a new routine, but once the temperature dropped, and it started getting really cold (it was 12 degrees when I woke up yesterday), I stumbled. Add in that it was the holiday, and I didn't really have anywhere to be, it got even harder. 

This week is going to be a bit of a learning curve though. I've got a new apartment workout that takes about half an hour, I like making coffee, and breakfast is pretty important. I'm also trying to journal (writing with a pen in a physical notebook) when I wake up. I stumbled on that this morning because my arms were trembling from the workout. I also really like making coffee and breakfast at home now, so figuring out how to do all that stuff before showering, getting dressed, and taking the 20 minute drive to my office is a little challenge. I'm getting better at it, but that's the first thing I want to check off my goal list this year.

Last night while I was starting to plan my week, I got sidetracked—as I often do—listening to music. I made a playlist to listen to first thing this morning. It's mellow, and reminds me of a winter drive where everything is quiet, cold, and peaceful. It's not the stressful snow squall drive from last week. This is for when you don't have to worry about black ice, because the sun is out, and the fresh snow is glittering through the window. It's been on all morning, and I might change it up a bit because there are a couple of songs that, in my head were a good fit, but don't work so well in practice. Anyway. Here's Winter Window.

Friday, May 21, 2021


I've been listening to Rage Against the Machine a lot lately.

The first reason is that they're really, really good. The second reason is that it every few months, there's a two or three day internet cycle that revolves around them, one of their songs gets stuck in my head, and I throw on the self-titled album and drive around pretending I know how to rap, or how to play some of those weird Tom Morello solos on my guitar. I don't know how to do either of those.

One of my favorite RATM internet things that's been happening lately is people doing YouTube reaction videos of hearing them for the first time in 2020/2021. They're so fun to watch, and most of the time, the viewers are caught completely off guard by what they're hearing. They think they're getting a getting a generic rap-rock band, then they hear Morello's guitar, and listen to what Zach de la Rocha is saying and their mind is just blown. It's so fun. I spent so many nights during quarantine just watching people react to "Down Rodeo" for the first time.

My other favorite thing is conservatives suddenly finding out that Rage Against the Machine is a political band who believe the exact opposite of every single thing they hold dear. It's so, so funny seeing Instagram comments from people yelling at them to keep politics out of their music, or "I used to like this band until they started getting political. I won't listen anymore." Which just sort of proves that they never actually listened in the first place.

Rage Against the Machine has been a political band for their entire existence. The cover for the band's demo tape was a clipping from the New York Stock Exchange, and a single match taped to the inside. The first line of their very first single released in 1992 is "Some of those that work forces, are the same that burn crosses." They were not subtle about their views.

The joke for 30 years has been "What machine did people think they were raging against? The washer and dryer?" But it's still true. The majority of people only paid attention to the line "Fuck you I won't do what you tell me" and nothing else. A ton of people heard "Wake Up" at the end of THE MATRIX, and even more kids heard "Guerrilla Radio" on Tony Hawk's Pro Skater 2, and none of them ever looked into the lyrics.

Rage was supposed to play a bunch of shows last year before the pandemic shut everything down. I wanted to go, but couldn't get tickets and didn't really want to see them in a huge arena. I saw them in a place like that once when they opened for U2, but I would have loved to see them when they played the small conservative town of Spanish Fork, Utah in 1996. But it was 10 days before I turned 16, and had no way to get there. My parents sure weren't going to drive an hour down there to drop me off AND THEN pick me up later. That would be silly.

After three albums and a collection of cover songs, the band broke up in 2000. Morello, bassist Tim Commerford, and drummer Brad Wilk stayed together and formed a couple of different bands. Audioslave, with Chris Cornell singing after Soundgarden broke up, is probably the most well known. They have a few good songs, but it mostly just makes you want to listen to Rage or Soundgarden. Morello has been the busiest, releasing solo albums, playing with Bruce Springsteen, appearing on talk shows, and just generally enjoying himself.

Zach de la Rocha, on the other hand, has been pretty quiet. He attempted a few different solo records, but was never completely happy with them. He recorded somewhere around 20 songs with Trent Reznor, back in 2003, and only one was ever released. Same thing happened with DJ Shadow, and again with El-P. He teamed up with The Mars Volta drummer Jon Theodore and made one of my favorite EP's under the name One Day as a Lion. Every few years, de la Rocha will show up doing a guest spot on someone's album, most notably Run the Jewels.

It's all really good, and while I wish there was a full on solo album, it's almost more fun this way. Hearing him pop up out of nowhere every once in a while is so rewarding, that it's probably better to leave everyone wanting more.

The pandemic rescheduled Rage Against the Machine tour is supposed to happen in 2022, but until then here's a playlist of pre and post Zach de la Rocha songs. And like someone on the internet said, "The great thing about Rage Against the Machine is that they're always relevant. The sad thing about Rage Against the Machine is that, well, they're always relevant."

Thursday, May 13, 2021


What do you know about Guillain Barre Syndrome? Let me tell you what it is, because it sounds like a nightmare.

Guillain Barre (gee-YAH buh-RAY*) is a rare disorder in which your body's immune system attacks your nerves. Weakness and tingling in your extremities are usually the first symptoms. These sensations can quickly spread, eventually paralyzing your whole body. In its most severe form Guillain-Barre syndrome is a medical emergency. Most people with the condition must be hospitalized to receive treatment.

My friend Will got hit with this recently, and even worse, it happened while he was in Nepal studying with Tibetan monks. Things went from bad to worse when he got Pneumonia, which started triggering seizures. He had to have an emergency tracheotomy and be put on a ventilator. With COVID still pretty out of control in that area of the world, his family wanted to get him back home to Utah ASAP. Problem is, that with all the complications, the only way to do that safely was with an air ambulance—which is very, very expensive. They started a GoFundMe, and were able to raise a good chunk—enough to get him home—but it still wasn't enough for everything he's facing, recovery wise.

We wanted to help, and the only thing we could come up with (short of sharing the GoFundMe link every chance we got) was to put out some music. The group chat got to work, and we decided to do a few covers, put it up on BandCamp, and donate whatever money we made from it to Will's recovery fund. We chose three songs from some old SLCHC bands from the 80's. Massacre Guys, The Stench, and Insight aren't super well known, but they meant a lot to the Salt Lake scene in the early days. We figured that we could raise awareness for Will, while also showing some people a few of the bands that time sort of forgot. It also didn't hurt that each of the three songs were barely a minute long, making it easier for us to get done in a timely manner.

These songs won't be on Spotify or Apple Music, because the goal is raising money, and $0.003 cents per stream doesn't help anyone. You can buy it through BandCamp though, and all the money will go straight to the recovery fund. You can also donate directly to the GoFundMe by following this link.

Go listen, buy it, share the link, and spread the word.

In other Milk Money news, Craft Lake City is planning for an in-person festival this August (providing that everything keeps moving in the right direction), and we're playing on the first night. We'll keep you posted about it through our IG (@milkmoneyrock) and here, I guess, for the 50 people that still read. It will most likely be our first show since February of 2020, and I'm super excited.

*I added the pronunciation because I've been saying it wrong for like a month.

Monday, April 19, 2021


How is everyone's pandemic going? Still washing your hands until they're sore and disinfecting groceries with Clorox wipes? I sure am—and I've been fully vaccinated for like a month.

Side note: Everyone go get vaccinated. The only dreams I have anymore are of Bill Gates telling me to throw away my iPhone*, but I might be able to play a show and hang out with my friends in a shitty venue this year, so it's a fair trade.

Anyway. A new Milk Money single hit streaming services last week. We worked on it in bits and pieces over the winter, all through group text again. Dan drew inspiration from Sunny Day Real Estate and Obituary, I tried to inject a little Type O Negative, and it just came out sounding like something that AFI might have recorded during the "Sing the Sorrow" session. I finally got to use the little synthesizer I bought like three years ago after a Nine Inch Nails show, so I was pretty excited. Dan also wanted us to record group vocals for the chorus, which was kind of fun. Since five people crowded together in a room yelling into microphone at the same time is still a dicey thing to try, we all had to do it on our own. Drew went to the warehouse at his work, Byron waited until his wife took the kids for a drive, Dan just did it in his vocal booth/kitchen pantry, and neither his kids or wife even batted an eye, because he does that all the time. I waited until my next door neighbor was at work, and my downstairs neighbor left for the gym, then spent 10 minutes yelling at the voice memo app on the phone I hate now.

After all that, we sent it to Scott (the same guy who mixed Howl) and he had it back to us within a couple of days.

It was fun to do, and we've already started trading riffs and demos for what will eventually be Howl II, but I'm so ready to be back in a little room with my friends making noises in real life. We might only be a couple of months away from that, and I can't even tell you how excited I am about it.

Until then, listen to Black Rose wherever you listen to music, favorite it, add it to some playlists, share it with your friends who don't read an outdated blog written by a guy with nothing better to do, and I'll see everyone again next time I'm bored on a Monday night.

*This is 100% a joke, but if you think it's directed at you and your dumb anti-vaxxer conspiracies, it absolutely is, because you're an idiot.

Wednesday, January 20, 2021


It's Inauguration Day (finally), and barring some weird last minute call for Civil War from the outgoing crybaby, someone might be able to start pointing this giant ship that is America in the right direction. We're still in the thick of a pandemic that might get worse before it gets better, but let's look at the bright side. Even if it's just for a minute.

Kamala Harris' husband, Doug Emhoff, is about to become the first Second Gentleman, and he's starting things off on a weird note. For the inaugural celebration, he convinced New Radicals to get back together, and play at the party. They haven't been a band for 20 years. You remember New Radicals, don't you? They had that song, "You Get What You Give" where the video was a guy in a bucket hat instigating a flash mob inside a mall about 15 years before anyone knew what a flash mob was.

I guess he used that track as his walkout song at rallies over the summer, and just loves that band. We won't look too hard at the symbolism in the video, where all the punk kids release the caged animals, and then force the adults to take their place locked behind bars. Emhoff has to be smart enough to know that he identifies way more with the corporate suits in that scenario, but again, we're not going too deep on that.

What this whole thing got me thinking about, is what would happen if I had this kind of power for one day? What if my wife/partner/significant other becomes Vice President, and I have the opportunity to get a band back together for one performance? I'd go nuts trying to decide who to get. I mean, it's not even a possibility for me, and I still spent WAY too much time last night thinking about it. So much so, that I made a playlist.

A lot of bands that I never got the chance to see have no prospect of reuniting because at least one member is dead. That made my list both more difficult and less difficult at the same time, but I finally narrowed it down. 

So here we go.

Handsome is a band that was around for like five minutes in the 90's. Hardly anyone knew them then, and even fewer people remember them now. The singer, Jeremy Chatalain, is from Salt Lake, and I used to live next door to him. This band is so good, but will most likely never play another show unless I call them from Air Force Two.

Most people would probably rather see Jawbreaker if we're getting Blake Shwarzenbach our of retirement, but none of those people are married to the Vice President-Elect. So Jets to Brazil it is.

AFI is still currently a band, but this might be the only way we get them to play any songs from Shut Your Mouth and Open Your Eyes, Black Sails in the Sunset, or the 3 1/2 and All Hallows EP's. 

Faith No More is also still currently together, but will 100% be broken up again by the time I'm in a relationship that lasts long enough for her to go through an entire election cycle in a presidential election year.

Jenny Lewis, Henry Rollins, Karen O, and Into Another would probably be honored, excited, and cool enough to make it happen for me.

Inside Out and Fugazi are straight up telling me "No." Zack de la Rocha is probably at least cordial about it, while Ian MacKaye is just going to laugh at me before he hangs up.

Now listen, I'm fully aware that there are A LOT of things that need to happen before any of this becomes a reality, but just go with it here. You never know.

Wednesday, December 16, 2020


Got together with the Milk Money dudes (and Casey* in case we needed a tie breaking vote) to talk about metallic hardcore for a while one night. We were on this Zoom call for almost three hours, and Dan patiently got it down to one. If you like Late 90's/Early 2000's HC, and want to watch what was described as "the nerdiest thing I've ever seen you do" by a friend of mine, hit play.

*I forgot about this post, but if you scroll to the bottom, there's a SoundCloud link to the time he and I drove to Las Vegas and he told me exactly what he wanted his funeral to be like. The possibility of getting derailed for some weird reason is the other reason we brought him on.*

Sunday, November 29, 2020


Being in a band is fun.

It's a lot different this year, but still super fun.

When lockdown/quarantine started, Milk Money was just starting to gain some momentum on our first album, RECKON which came out last December. There were a bunch of awesome shows lined up, and we were really excited about playing a bunch of new places that none of us ever got to play with our respective HC bands.

We were also working on a video and just finished filming at one of the three locations we set up.

Then, well, you know.

My favorite thing about the video was the concept, which is laughably dated in our new, current reality. 

It was going to be made up of three separate M$ "shows" in strange locations, while people tried their best to go about their business, pretending we weren't there. The first location was a tiny office while people worked at computers, made copies, and tried to have discussions. The second was a small, crowded restaurant while people ate, drank and hung out while we played in the aisle where a server had to maneuver through us to get to each table. The third was a busy toy store where customers crammed past us to get what they needed without giving us a second look. It was going to be fun. 

Thinking about pitching, filming, or releasing that video now is hilarious to me. It's going to be one of those things that's lost in time, and that's a bummer.

Once all of our shows were cancelled and we realized that we wouldn't be getting together in real life any time soon, we changed course and started working on some new songs. Dan and I had been getting together every couple of weeks at Downtown Music, trading riffs, and demoing some songs to show Drew and Byron. Some of it was good, some of it was okay, and a lot of it needed work.

Eventually, after a lot of videos and audio files passed back and forth in the group text, we had the skeletons of four songs. Drew tracked drums at his house, and uploaded them to our Google Drive folder. From there, Dan, Byron, and I added our parts and stuck them back in the folder. Dan set up a vocal studio in his kitchen pantry and went to work while the rest of us gave our thoughts. When we had everything, we packaged it all up, and sent it to Scott Sellers, who used to sing for the band Rufio. He started producing records from home a while ago, and had access to a bunch of equipment that none of us did. We crossed our fingers and waited to hear what he put together.

Since all of our parts were recorded clean, we assumed that we were going to have to give him a little direction on tone after the first pass, but he nailed everything. All four songs came back so much better than any of us imagined, that I don't think anyone had any notes other than "This sounds fucking great!"

He finished mixing and mastering it around the beginning of October, and we officially released HOWL on October 23. It's one of my favorite things that I've ever been a part of, and I'm incredibly proud of how we put it together under the circumstances. We already started planning the follow-up, and the way things are going, we're probably going to be doing it the same way we did HOWL. It's not as much fun as being cooped up in a tiny room throwing out ideas, and then hanging out at a studio for three days, but it's much safer.

The only time we've been in the same place since March of this year was right before Halloween. We got together up in Heber to film a video for one of the new songs. It was awesome to see everyone again, even if it also meant hanging outside in 40 degree weather and hauling our gear a quarter of a mile down the side of a mountain for the perfect shot.

The songs on HOWL are a lot different than the ones on RECKON, but still have the same M$ vibe. You should check them out, and follow us on social media (@milkmoneyrock), Apple Music, and Spotify. We've got more songs coming, and who knows? Maybe we'll even get to play a show or two next year.

So we need you all to wear a fucking mask and follow the public health guidelines so we can do that. It's not a difficult concept. The more your dumb anti-mask friends protest, the longer this will go on. That's just how it is. I want restaurants to open at full capacity again, I want bars to stay open late and have bands play, I want to sit in coffee shop, and go to movie theaters. And I want to go to a fucking show and hang out in the parking lot for two hours after it's over bullshitting with my friends.

None of that happens until this virus is under control. Wear a mask, stay safe, and fuck Donald Trump and everyone who stands with him.

Now go listen to HOWL.

Wednesday, September 30, 2020


Remember when I thought that blogging was going to make a comeback? Such innocent, optimistic times we lived in back in March.

I guess I can give you a rundown of what the last seven months have been like for me? I kind of think you don't care, but then again, you're still checking this blog hoping for content, so I'll oblige you.

The restaurant that I work at shut down on March 16th. We all went in on the 17th to clean and take some food home (since our full order for the week showed up a few hours before the Health Department gave the order). I invited everyone to the Milk Money show on May 16th, saying "This will all be over by then for sure." 

The first week and a half of quarantine was super productive. Dusted off the blog, got creative with some Milk Money stuff, tried to see if my cats liked pancakes, and tried to keep somewhat active by adapting a few workouts for my small apartment.

The ten days after that were pretty rough. Reality set in, and it finally started to dawn on me how long a pandemic might last. The weather turned to shit again, so I took a lot of naps, made coffee at 6pm, and stayed up until 2 or 3am watching movies. 

It wasn't until early April that I found a rhythm. I started making coffee at a reasonable hour, writing (not blogging here, of course) in the morning, then working out. The gym I go to closed down, but they amended things a bit, and started posting daily workouts on their app, and videos of how to do some of the exercises online. Luckily I had a kettlebell, a couple of dumbbells, and a jump rope. Some days, I'd work out in my living room. On nice days, I would go out on my front walkway. I had 200, 400, and 800 meter runs mapped out around my neighborhood, and was pretty consistent with it once the weather got nice again. 

In the evenings, I made dinner, then went for a walk—which became my literal favorite thing to do. I looked forward to them every single day when I woke up. I would listen to either a podcast, or an audiobook, and just head out—mask in one pocket in case I passed someone, and hand sanitizer in the other. I was going about four miles every day, and longer when the book got really good. The audio version of Beastie Boys Book is incredible, and I want everyone to listen to it. Ad Rock and Mike D narrate most of it, but they have chapters and sections read by a ton of people who just love Beastie Boys like Will Ferrell, Tim Meadows, John C. Reilly, Snoop Dogg, Kim Gordon, Chloe Sevigny, and Bette Midler. It's so good that I bought the physical copy just to see all the photos they referenced in it. Both are so, so worth checking out. If you watched the Apple TV+ documentary, you know what I'm talking about. That was a filmed version of the live show that Ad Rock and Mike D did after the book was released. I watched that, and thought, "That was pretty good, but I wish they went into more detail about..." The book does just that—with the exception of MCA's death and how it affected them. They just wanted to talk about the fun parts of having him in their lives, which I get. 

After that, I listened to an audiobook on the making of The Office, and then another one about the rise of all the cool New York bands in the early 2000's like Yeah Yeah Yeah's, White Stripes, and The Strokes called Meet Me in the Bathroom. I missed pretty much all of those bands in their heyday because I was immersed in HC culture, but I've come around on a lot of them—especially Yeah Yeah Yeah's

That's pretty much what I did every single day. For a month and a half. Every three weeks I went to the grocery store, and occasionally I would get coffee and go for a long drive, but that was it. My next door neighbor went home to California, my downstairs neighbor holed up in her parent's condo in Park City, and my other neighbor moved out right before everything shut down. I basically had the whole place to myself, so setting up all my guitar gear and playing loudly was another little outlet, but I was pretty bored. I really didn't see anyone for like two months—not even a Zoom hangout. I went to my parent's house for dinner once, and helped my brother take graduation photos for his virtual commencement ceremony from the U of U. My friend Kyah dropped off some Starburst that she brought back from England the literal day before they stopped allowing international flights. When Cassie got back from California, we built a planter box for our garden, and then failed spectacularly at actually growing anything in it.

I went back to work in the middle of May, and the whole summer has been pretty much a blur. I go to work at 7am, get home around 5pm, take a power nap, work out on my front walkway (I've since moved to my garage), make dinner, go to bed, and do it all over again. I have a nice little patio, so about once a week my friend Casey comes over, we get takeout and eat outside. Listening to stories about how many of my friends relationships fell apart during quarantine bummed me out, and made me realize that while I was bored for a few weeks, ultimately I was fine. Aside from work though, I'm still doing the quarantine/social distance thing. But at this point, I can't really tell if it's because of the pandemic, or because it's just how my life is now. The only time I really see anyone is at the BLM protest marches, which I feel sort of guilty saying doubles as my only social outing. 

Last week I turned 40, and a few of my friends rented out an entire theater so 8 of us could watch The Goonies, eat movie popcorn for the first time since March, and not worry about any strangers coughing on us or talking. That was pretty great. Now that summer is winding down again, and I'll be on Funemployment (without the fun) again soon, maybe I'll write more. Doubtful, but we can pretend.

Oh! We did write and record an entire 4-song Milk Money EP this summer without ever actually getting together a single time. It comes out on October 23rd. Maybe you'll hear from me before then, but, come on. Go find @MilkMoneyRock on social media and keep track. The new stuff is different than Reckon, but still has the M$ vibe. I really dig it. Hopefully everyone else does, too.

Monday, April 13, 2020


This band started in 2004, but didn't actually start playing until 2019.

Dan Fletcher joined Cherem in 2004, and one of our first tours was in August of that year. We did a lot of overnight driving back then, because we mostly toured in the summer and our van didn't have A/C. On the way to our first show in Sacramento, I was driving, Dan was riding shotgun and Bill was on the first bench. Everyone else was asleep. My main rule while I was driving was "no hardcore." It made me sleepy for some reason, so I always put on something upbeat—punk, hip-hop, whatever. Dan was looking through my CD case, and put in a mix of old grunge songs. I was happy, because I didn't think anyone else liked that stuff. I know Austin didn't. Clint was pretty indifferent. 

We listened to Soundgarden, Screaming Trees, Alice in Chains, and Nirvana all night, talking about how much we loved them, and how much fun it would be to play in a band like that. We decided to start one when we got back from tour. We never did.

Dan and I played in a bunch of bands together after that, but nothing like the one we planned on starting that night. 

Cut to 2017, when Dan and I started a group text with our friends Byron and Drew. We were all busy, and none of us had a practice space, but we all wanted to play music. We started trading riffs and ideas, and Dan compiled everything into a SoundCloud. Then we found Will. He wanted to sing for a band, so we told him to pick three songs from the dozen or so that Dan put together, and booked one day of studio time. We set up, ran through the songs together for the first time, and hit record. It was super fun and turned out really good. We put those songs on a 7" and played exactly one show. It was called Potential

Potential fizzled out after that, and we all went on with our lives. Dan was playing solo stuff. Drew and I started doing Tamerlane pretty regularly. But none of us were playing together. Then Byron resurrected the group text.

He wanted to get together for a contest that one his favorite bands was doing. Pup was releasing a new album, and as a promotional idea, they released the lyrics and chord progression to one of their new songs. They encouraged everyone with a band to use it as a template and record their own version. They wanted to post their favorites before unveiling what the song actually sounded like. It was a cool idea, so the four of us got together at Dan's practice space one night. 

Things went sideways almost immediately, and we scrapped the cover song before we even started it. Instead, we started playing around with riffs, and wrote a pretty cool song. Then we wrote another one.

"Did we just start a rock band?" asked Byron.
"Dan and I have been trying to start a 90's style grunge band since like 2004," I said.
"I guess this is it," said Dan.

Songs came together pretty quickly, and they were all really fun to play. We were only getting together about once every two weeks, but after a few months, we had 12 songs and no idea what to do with them. We tossed around the idea of releasing a couple of different EP's, but couldn't decide on anything.

"Fuck it," I said. "If this is a 90's style rock band, let's just come out the gate with a full length."

So we did.

We met up with our friend Wes Johnson for a few days last summer and recorded all twelve songs. It sat on a hard drive for a few months while we tried to come up with a marketing strategy, and figure out the best way to release an album in 2019. Then we got tired of waiting, and just put it up on Spotify in December.

Once January rolled around, we started playing shows, writing more songs, and shooting a video. It was all rolling along, and we were having tons of fun. Then Coronavirus hit and put everything on hold. That's where we are now.

The bright side is that we're still trying to keep busy. We made a quarantine video for the track "Human Spine" last month. We started recording interviews for a Milk Money podcast series. We're trying to figure out how to record some new songs while maintaining social distancing. And we started writing a weekly advice column.

The last one has been my favorite so far. It's hosted by our friends at Gold Blood Collective, and we're trying to get one up every week for the next little while. You should read it.

Here's a bunch of links. It's up on every streaming platform there is, so go to whichever one you use and add us. Listen to the album, tell me if you like it, then come see us play live—if that's ever a thing that people can do again.

Thursday, April 2, 2020


The only regular interaction I get with other people these days is through the Milk Money group text. Some days it's super active, other days not so much—but it's always fun. Lately, we've been making playlists based on record labels that we grew up listening to and posting them to the M$ Twitter account and Facebook page. The group gets pretty active when we do them, and brings back a whole bunch of great memories of when we were younger and music was literally all that mattered.

If you didn't grow up in the punk/hardcore scene—going to shows, buying records, and obsessing over bands—record labels probably have no bearing on your life. But to those that did, you know how crucial it was to have a label that you would basically go to war for.

Dischord started the obsession. SST followed suit. Sub Pop showed everyone how to be big and small at the same time. Fat Wreck Chords was a staple of early 90's punk rock, while Victory and Revelation were the mecca for anyone interested in hardcore. Thousands of discussions were based on what band should be on what label, how crazy it was that a particular band ditched one label for another, and what label's "sound" a smaller, unsigned band encompassed. I'll never forget when Sick of it All signed with Fat Wreck Chords. My friends and I were so confused, because it didn't seem like they fit in at all with the rest of the goofy, fun-loving bands on the label. Then again, we were 18 and didn't know anything anyway.

One of the most influential labels for me personally was Epitaph Records. The label was founded by Brett Gurewitz primarily as a vehicle for releasing albums for his own band—Bad Religion. There weren't a lot of punk rock labels in the early 80's, so DIY was the way to go. The first seven or eight years of the label were mostly Bad Religion albums, until he started signing other acts, most notably NOFX and Pennywise. After that, Epitaph became a huge deal—not just in the punk scene, but the world in general.

Epitaph released some of my favorite punk/hardcore albums of all time from bands like H20, The Bouncing Souls, Rancid, Descendents, and Refused. It's a murderer's row of great music. Brett Gurewitz unknowingly introduced me to bands I still listen to, admire, and play air drums to when I'm walking around my neighborhood in the midst of this global pandemic. He's long been one of my idols, and before the total collapse of the record industry, I wanted to try and follow in his footsteps. He's still someone I look up to, but starting a record label in this era of music is just a terrible idea that no one should do. I have several boxes of unopened, unsold CD's in a closet to back that up.

Now that we've gotten that out of the way, it's on to the game that the title of this post alludes to. I know that was five paragraphs ago, but hopefully you're still reading. I mean, what else are you doing?

If you've suddenly found yourself with an abundance of time, and need a break from binge watching old episodes of The Office, or arguing about TIGER KING on Facebook, give this a shot. You can use pretty much any label, but Epitaph makes it easy because they have all their releases cataloged by year on their website.

Here are the only rules:

1) You can only pick one song for each year.
2) No artist can appear more than once.
*Additional Rule Edit*
3) I'm opening this up to include Epitaph's sister labels, ANTI and Hellcat. It's my game and I'll change the rules to suit my own needs if I want to.

With Epitaph, it got really, really difficult for me between 1996 and 2001. Would I love to have "Rather Be Dead" on this playlist? I sure would, but Everything Sucks by Descendents was released the same year. It's all about making the tough choices. I skipped a few years here and there (mostly between 2008-2015ish because I never listened to a lot of the bands they were releasing), so I'll be revisiting my playlist soon to add a few more.

No one is going to actually do this, because most of you are adults, quarantined with your family or a significant other. But on the off chance that you do find yourself with a little extra time, give it a shot and see what happens—especially if you do Epitaph. I would love to see where you and I differ on these songs.

Thursday, March 26, 2020


I'll tell you more about Milk Money another day, but I'll start with the video we made the day of the Great Utah Earthquake.

We started shooting a video for another song earlier this month. There's three locations that we wanted to use, but we only got through the first one. It was fun, and in the end, I think it's going to be really awesome. We're shooting with an old friend named John Raftery. He's a tattoo artist at Mercy here in Salt Lake, and has been making movies and short films on the side.

Now that we're all stuck at home, we were forced to abandon the rest of it for the time being. Understandable, but a bummer all at once. I was texting with a friend, who saw little snippets of the first shoot on our Instagram (@MilkMoneyRock), and she asked if everything was on hold. I said that it was, and then she came back with a great idea.
I stole it from her immediately, and hit up the band group text (which is a very comforting thing to have right now as I live alone in a small apartment and haven't seen anyone in days). They loved it, and over the next couple of days, we each filmed our part and sent them to Dan. He's been playing around with Final Cut Pro a lot over the past few months, and had a rough cut ready before I even recorded mine. I recorded mine in the afternoon—which gave me a good reason to change out of sweats for a bit—and Drew finished his later that night. Dan had it ready to go the next morning.

It's pretty rad what you can accomplish when you can't leave your house. Hope you like it. You can find the rest of our stuff on Spotify/Apple Music/Bandcamp/Soundcloud/whatever.

Milk Money

Saturday, March 21, 2020


Blogging is about to have a massive comeback—for about two months.

I'm on day four of this social distancing/isolated quarantine thing that we're all supposed* to be doing. If you live in Salt Lake City, you had the added bonus of waking up to an earthquake on Wednesday morning, which definitely helped everyone's anxiety. So for a few hours, we all had to worry about getting deathly ill from touching something, and also worry about our houses collapsing on us. It wasn't a great day.

Aside from that (How was the play, Mrs. Lincoln?), it's not bad. For me, it's not all that different from what I do during the winter when I'm on sabbatical from work—aka Funemployment. At least this time it's not freezing cold outside, and I can go stand on my porch for a few minutes every couple of hours to get some fresh air.

What I've learned in the past few days is that the internet is fucking boring now. Instagram killed blogging, Facebook is a dumpster fire of conspiracy theories and lies, and Twitter is just depression in real time. There's a lot of people thinking they're going to "beat the algorithm" on Instagram and Facebook by falling for the same old tricks that never work, which is both funny to see and sad at the same time. Those sites are smarter than all of us, and you either have to accept it or get the fuck off. Those are the only two choices, and the sooner you accept that, the easier it will be for all of us going forward. Anyway. Some of the sites I read regularly aren't posting any new content, I don't want to read about the President's incompetency, and sports are gone for a while.

This is why I think blogging is going to have a little bit of a resurgence. Everyone that had one back in 2012 is going to dust it off out of boredom (like me!), and we're going all going to have something to read for a few minutes a day to take our mind off of everything else.

None of them are going to be great, a few of them will be almost good, and most of them are going to be word vomit as a warm-up to whatever actual writing project they have to do that day (me again!).

I really have no idea what people are hoping to get out of these posts—if they get anything at all—but I'll (probably) be posting a couple of times a week for the foreseeable future. I'm still making Spotify playlists, I'll probably tell you about my new band, we can trade Isolation Rituals, and talk about what shows we're watching, and which books we're reading**.

So, I guess add this page to your bookmark bar? Check back every once in a while? It might be fun. I actually have no idea! None of us do! Welcome to 2020.

*I know my neighbor isn't doing any of this because his routine hasn't changed at all. He still leaves with his gym bag, and comes home with a plastic grocery store bag with like two items in it several times a day.
**Don't forget about books! They're great and fun and the perfect escape.

Wednesday, November 6, 2019


Picking a favorite is hard for me. I don't have a favorite movie, I don't have a favorite restaurant, and I don't have a favorite song. Maybe that says more about me than I want it to, but it's true. I don't want to be pigeonholed into something forever.

This is where you tell me that favorites can change, but come on. If it changes, was it ever really your favorite? That's way too heavy of a concept for a god damn blog that I post on twice a year, so let's just move on.

I do have a favorite band. That one is easy—even though it's a choice that only became clear over the past few years. It's Nine Inch Nails, and it's not particularly close.

I always *liked* them (as you can see here, here, here and various other posts), but I never fully appreciated the scope of the music that Trent Reznor and co. had been making. Hesitation Marks was what got me to start paying attention again, then they released three EP's over the course of about 16 months between December 2016 and early 2018, which got me even more invested. I went back and listened to the soundtrack work that Reznor—and now the only other full time member of Nine Inch Nails—Atticus Ross did on THE SOCIAL NETWORK and GONE GIRL and was all the way in. I saw them live twice last year (both times in Las Vegas) and was more impressed with them each time.

After I got home from the show last December, I sat down and made a playlist of my favorite (there's that word again) Nine Inch Nails songs. I throw it on while I'm working quite a bit, and it's probably my favorite thing to write to. That probably says a lot about how I work. Anyway.

Friday, July 5, 2019


It's sort of insane to me how many people think that Fiona Apple hasn't done anything other than the "Criminal" music video (which is still incredible). That song came out in 1996, and it's still just as good today as it was 23 years ago.

But also? Fiona Apple is just really, really talented.

None of her other stuff has been as massively well received as "Criminal" (which was actually the third single off her first album), but she's been making great songs ever since. She's eccentric, massively private, and doesn't  really seem to care that she's as famous as she is.

"Criminal" was such a commercial success, that everyone who heard that song first, just assumed that all of her stuff sounded like that. Then when they heard the weird Jon Brion orchestral arrangements behind her whispery vocals on her follow-up album When the Pawn..., they mostly checked out. Extraordinary Machine wasn't any more accessible, and the masses just kind of forgot about her.

Apple doesn't tour regularly, she doesn't perform very often, and she's mostly out of the spotlight. Every once in a while she pops up with something, but mostly she just keeps to herself. She has no social media of her own, and the only one she even acknowledges is a Tumblr site called Fiona Apple Rocks. While she doesn't use it herself, she regularly emails the person behind the site with pictures, and notes to post. She may be the last person regularly using Tumblr in 2019, which is a feat in and of itself.

A lot of her stuff can seem depressing, but there are even more songs that are bright and fun. This playlist is a mix of both, probably leaning more towards the latter. If you have a favorite that I left out, leave a comment (does anyone still leave blog comments?), so I can give it a closer listen.

Thursday, April 18, 2019


I was late getting into Yeah Yeah Yeahs.

The whole New York rock revival started right as I was getting into hardcore, and anything that wasn't on Trustkill, Ferret, Equal Vision, or HydraHead wasn't worth my time. I wanted breakdowns and screaming, not grimy garage rock played by a bunch of art school kids.

I paid almost no attention to Fever to Tell, but I knew about it. I had MTV at that point, but it was mostly to watch VIVA LA BAM, PUNK'D, and THE REAL WORLD (I still remember things about Tonya from the Chicago season, and Trishelle from Las Vegas). The videos for "Maps" and "Y Control" were on a lot, but just didn't do anything for me. When Show Your Bones came out a few years later, I started to come around. All the girls I knew worshipped Karen O, and listened to them all the time. Every time I went into visit one of them at work—whether it was at a coffee shop, second hand clothing store, or salon—the Yeah Yeah Yeahs were playing. I still didn't own any of their albums, but I knew their songs, and started to appreciate what they were doing. When they played at the outdoor spring festival (whatever it was called) at the University of Utah in April of 2006, I started regretting never seeing them in a smaller venue. Their performance was awesome, and I could only imagine how fun they would be in a small club like DV8.

It's Blitz! came out in 2009 (it's the only album of theirs that I ever bought), and Karen O did the soundtrack to WHERE THE WILS THINGS ARE (a movie that I loved but will never watch again so as to keep it that way) for Spike Jonze that same year, and I was fully on board. A few years later, she teamed up with Nine Inch Nails to do "The Immigrant Song" and I thought my heart was going to explode. I finally embraced what everyone else saw in 2003.

The few years after that were a weird time for music. CD's were dying, streaming was just getting started, digital downloads with vinyl represses were the main selling point, and download blogs powered by MediaFire was mostly where everyone stole music from (half my hard drive is filled with pirated music from download blogs that I didn't actually want, but wanted to have). I lost track of a lot of bands during that time, and I mostly forgot about Yeah Yeah Yeahs. Then, last winter, Karen O teamed up with Danger Mouse for Lux Prima, which is a fine record, but it just made me want to listen to "Maps" and "Cheated Hearts" again. To make it easy on all of us, I made a playlist for them and the rest of my favorites ("Gold Lion" still annoys me, so it's not there). It's a good way to spend an hour.

I still don't care about most grimy garage rock played by art school kids, but I'd much rather listen to that than breakdowns and screaming.