Turkey baked in a bag. Mashed potatoes and green beans. Pie and whipped cream! And the Cowboys. We cook it, we eat and watch the game together. This is how Thanksgiving has been for several years: just us two. And if the game is boring or the turkey is dry—who cares? I enjoy Thanksgiving, this family holiday, because it is not Christmas. Fewer people, no presents, no long buildup, less stress, less drama. What it is is the casual closeness, the informality I used to think defined our family in the best of times.
Thursday, November 27, 2025
Saturday, November 22, 2025
an exercise for lost souls
I write it down right now so I can remember later what I was feeling before my neuron system failed for circuitry though it tried to create a mirror calculation and specially summoned biological courage that takes pleasure in deception of appearance and the art of measuring out the primal needs of social connection. Can you hear your own heart pounding? You pray for death as you crave life with her.
My God: What do you do if you still have the appetite, the craving, but you don’t have the stomach for it anymore?
Friday, November 14, 2025
noise rock album reviews like this one
Takomaha winds up the air so it coils in your brain like a diamondback
When Takomaha turns up the volume on “American Basements,” feedback is already singing through the amps. The bass drum kicks, slipped by a hi-hat tap. A tumbling drum phrase articulates the tension welling inside a tooth-grinding bassline. And from this descends a vocal, clear and confident.
This musical introduction halts when the guitar suddenly rips chords into air already made humid and bright with noise.
When the scaffolding we've erected starts to fail, it makes this music.
The promotional copy compares it to This Heat, At The Drive In, and A Place To Bury Strangers. Takomaha debuted with a self-titled EP in 2022, and on October 29, the Oslo band will deliver its second, “American Basement,” on Loyal Blood Records.
The second song, “Scopekreep,” starts with cutting rhythms—drums and bass tumble over lovely dissonance scattered by the guitar. This music is about mood and intensity. The lyrics pronounce the mission: “Out here doing the Lord’s work / just out here doing the Good Lord’s work.” The monotone vocal rides the building volume. Then tension gives way, and the song transitions to a groove that again unfolds into a noise-rock crescendo.
The single posted below is “Tropical Slitwrist.” This eight-minute gunner opens with big dissonance, then steps back and up again with expulsions of sound. At 2:30, the bass and drums exact a tension-filled jam. But at 3:15, the song goes dark-dancehall electro and builds in volume. At 6:30, it bursts and the bass hammers. But this is brief, as the song drops back into the dark electro whatever. It finally moves toward closure at 7:30, cutting back and forth between the core synthesizer accents and the full noise machine.
When Takomaha turns up the volume on “American Basements,” feedback is already singing through the amps. The bass drum kicks, slipped by a hi-hat tap. A tumbling drum phrase articulates the tension welling inside a tooth-grinding bassline. And from this descends a vocal, clear and confident.
This musical introduction halts when the guitar suddenly rips chords into air already made humid and bright with noise.
When the scaffolding we've erected starts to fail, it makes this music.
The promotional copy compares it to This Heat, At The Drive In, and A Place To Bury Strangers. Takomaha debuted with a self-titled EP in 2022, and on October 29, the Oslo band will deliver its second, “American Basement,” on Loyal Blood Records.
The second song, “Scopekreep,” starts with cutting rhythms—drums and bass tumble over lovely dissonance scattered by the guitar. This music is about mood and intensity. The lyrics pronounce the mission: “Out here doing the Lord’s work / just out here doing the Good Lord’s work.” The monotone vocal rides the building volume. Then tension gives way, and the song transitions to a groove that again unfolds into a noise-rock crescendo.
The single posted below is “Tropical Slitwrist.” This eight-minute gunner opens with big dissonance, then steps back and up again with expulsions of sound. At 2:30, the bass and drums exact a tension-filled jam. But at 3:15, the song goes dark-dancehall electro and builds in volume. At 6:30, it bursts and the bass hammers. But this is brief, as the song drops back into the dark electro whatever. It finally moves toward closure at 7:30, cutting back and forth between the core synthesizer accents and the full noise machine.
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