Rob Spectre - just your average self-produced superhero
Jason and April Nassi gave me the honor of reading at their wedding 28 April 2012. A few folks asked for a recording of the reading.
This is my first spin with GarageBand. Have to admit grudgingly that it is a superior piece of software. *sigh*
Talk about Irish luck. My video from underneath the space shuttle Enterprise as it was landing at JFK.
You have to get back on the horse. Somehow, and I don’t know how this kind of thing starts, we have started to lionize horseback-not-getting-on: these casual, a priori assertions of inevitable failure, which is nothing more than a gauze draped over your own pulsing terror. Every creative act is open war against The Way It Is. What you are saying when you make something is that the universe is not sufficient, and what it really needs is more you. And it does, actually; it does. Go look outside. You can’t tell me that we are done making the world.
— Penny Arcade’s Tycho
A friend hit me up a few weeks ago for some music suggestions, so I got the opportunity to coalesce in an email all the new music I’ve been spinning over this past mild winter. My second in New York, my general musical mood seemed to be marked by transition. Fitting as I am fitfully flung into full adulthood.
The recommendations I selected are below:
1) Frank Turner - England Rest My Bones
Recommended in my email last year, the British songwriter struck hard with his latest release. Just last week he headlined Wembley goddamned Stadium, and serves as evidence that roaddogs can still make it in the age of YouTube. Faves off this one are “I Still Believe,” “Glory Hallelujah” and this leadoff single “I Am Disappeared.”
2) Onelinedrawing - The Volunteers
Shameless shoegaze from Brookline, Mass, onelinedrawing is one of the many pseudonyms of Jonah Martranga. I file in this often in the same playlists as Sigur Ros, Conor Oberst and other introspectives unafraid to scream their guts out when the movement takes them. A touch of post-hardcore desperation clingwrapped in hopeless longing, this record is heart tugger with a few notable standouts, my favorite being “Superhero.”
3) The New Pornographers - Mass Romantic
I am super late to this indie rock party, but somehow after the buzz has worn off a lot of these songs still seem to shine. A little too hipster for my liking when they hit with Mass Romantic now over 11 years ago, I had to concede grudgingly the masterstroke guitar anthems this record affords. ”Letter to an Occupant” features Neko Case’s stunning belt before she would graduate into solo success. This outfit carries strongly in the Canadian indie rock tradition of setting a half dozen or so remarkable songwriters and leaving little inhibition on the cutting room floor.
4) Math the Band - Best Swishes, Thanks a Dunks!
Providence-born eight bit four-on-the-floor anthems, Math the Band is a duo of RISD students that used to roll in the old as220 crowd I dimly tried to imitate during my time in New England. They bill themselves as Atom and His Package meets Andrew WK. Yeah, you’re going to go one of two ways on this one.
5) Old Man Markley - Guts n’ Teeth
Old punks don’t die - they just cash in. Two former members of Youth Brigade formed in Southern California and honest-to-God, credible bluegrass ensemble capable of some blistering old timey licks. Their first record was a pet project of Fat Mike from NOFX and put out to the popular derision of Pennywise fans on Fat Wreck Chords. Their live show is unbelievably good.
6) Brendan Kelly and the Wandering Birds - I’d Rather Die Than Live Forever
Former Slapstick bassist Brendan Kelly hails from the Chicago punk rock circle that produced Alkaline Trio, Rise Against and Brendan Kelly’s most tenured ensemble The Lawrence Arms. Carrying in the recent trend popularized by Chuck Ragan, Tony Sly and Joey Cape of old punk rock frontmen picking up acoustic guitars, The Wandering Birds record brings a certain legitimate funkiness to the recent post-punk trend. Opening track is pure win.
7) Cake - Showroom of Compassion
Just kidding. They still suck.
Should you be incapable of enjoying country music, this record will definitely not be your speed. However I find folks who think country is what Toby Keith and Shania Twain shake their respective moneymakers to are shocked to be nodding their heads to Lucero, one of the last real whiskey-soaked authentic country acts on the road. Ben Nichols’ rasp has become in his own time as iconic as the endless permutations of the dark, cold bar his songwriting seems to produce. I’m a big fan of his ballads, of which “When I Was Young” should count among his finest.
9) Julian Casablancas - Phrazes for the Young
During a Strokes hiatus, New York retro-rock juggernaut Casablancas put together a solo effort presumably populated by rejects from the critical darlings sudden meteoric ascent during the turn of the century. His trademark deadpan is present along with the garage rock four chord fearlessness, though with the welcome addition of some synthy nostalgia. Opener feels like it belongs in a John Hughes movie.
The last horse messaging API you’ll ever need.
About twice a week I get a call from entrepreneurs seeking guidance on how to reach developers and market APIs. It’s an entirely new type of market which demands an entirely new type of marketing, and there are few folks with any kind of experience in this nascent field. While we at Twilio still have much work to do, I’m going to be joining a few other folks in this game to talk about some lessons learned at SXSWi.
If you’d like to come by and join the conversation, I’m going to be joined by Adam from Programmable Web, Tim from SendGrid, Ben from Urban Airship and Delyn from Mashery to talk about how we approach this very unique and very new problem:
Tom Brady? He’ll kill ya. If he catches you half asleep, he’ll punch you right in the face with the stretch—he’ll hand the ball to Woodhead, or Green-Ellis, or Ridley, or Faulk. Guys aren’t ready. They’re not ready. He’ll do it five plays in a row, on national TV, in front of the world. And he loves nothing more than humiliating you. Because I know this: he humiliated me.
It’s a hell of a system they have, and he is the greatest trigger of our lifetime. Look at him! He’s snapping these plays off before the Jets are ready. You can be as multiple as you want on defense, but, when you play Tom Brady, he regulates you. He turns you into [whispered] trash.
— John Gruden in the New Yorker. (via nickcrocker)
A tune I wrote about my first girlfriend - prob the best live recording I have of it.
Yesterday a random post from tech blog The Next Web popped up on my dashboard, featuring a snippet from a story they ran about Filip Santa, a “Gutsy Designer” who launched a site that doubles as his resume called takemetosiliconvalley.com.
“Hello Guys, Scroll Down Please,” the site says.
Go ahead, look at the site and soak it in.
My colleague Michael Selvidge made a service called Callin’ Oates. It became pretty popular.
On a train ride this weekend, I ported it to Python. Sounds a little different now.
