This was the year we got way ahead of the deadline and gathered to record a Tiny Desk contest submission in January. Can Tiny Desk concerts still happen with social distancing? Don't know! Does anyone still want to win airfare to DC? Not sure! Did we submit the thing anyway? Heck yeah!

If you want to watch, it's here: https://youtu.be/rR023OeWkg4. Look at those happy, naive faces, all crowded within six feet of each other. Dance like nobody's watching; drum like you'll never have to wipe down your desk, as the saying goes.

You will also note that we have taken to heart the fact that the internet is made of cats. I don't know whether Julie is taking requests on that keyboard, but it wouldn't hurt to ask.

The studio recording of the song is over on Bandcamp, as well as Spotify and other services. Bandcamp, btw, is waiving its cut of purchases on March 20, so that all proceeds go to the artists. We have plenty of ideas for albums you might want to buy, but it's a good day to shop around on Bandcamp if you like supporting indie music.

Here's a demo of a new one, "Asteroid." It is, as I said to a friend a few days ago, a risky song for me: it contains guitar solos that—as I'm working alone—I can't outsource to Charlie; it uses a part of my voice that easily veers into either Cher Impersonator or Slumming Opera Singer; it's about a vulnerable subject; and the whole thing is a structural experiment. AND the build really needs a full drum kit. (The percussion here is me hitting the guitar pickup with an open palm. Have I mentioned that I miss the band? I miss the band.) But now is no time to be shy about art—or anything, really—so what the hell, here it is.

And here's a new one that feels much safer in a lot of ways, "Cat at the Music Box Lounge." (I do not remember where that title came from; the song came from a very specific walk to Chicago's Montrose Saloon in October. That night's performer, Ken Rose, is indeed known as The Voice That Remembers, and you should see him if you can.) Melancholy country is definitely one of my go-to writing forms, and the genre somewhat limits the structural risks you can take. But that also means this one may not go on the new album, which seems to be making experiments all over the place.

Everyone's stuck at home and desperately browsing the internet, so here's some stuff to listen to. WITH THE IMPORTANT CAVEAT that I've been working in near-total isolation for a month and a half, and it is entirely possible that what I am producing is utter crap.

"​Ghostlight" is a demo of a new song. (The percussion track is tap shoes.) I came here knowing that much of what I'd be writing had to do with memory, the past, mortality, and ghosts...and then it turned out my casita was a little bit haunted. 

If you've seen us live, you may have seen a stunningly bad Replacements T-shirt at our merch table. It's made of shiny swimsuit fabric, and the logo looks like it was printed from a photo of another T-shirt (even retaining the original shirt's off-center fold line). It was from an Amazon seller who turned out to be fraudulent. "Polyester Shirt" is the result. This is a rough cut from one of the recording sessions for Highway Gothic. We've talked about a Mats tribute EP, probably incorporating this, "I.O.U.," "Whiskeyboots," and "Run for the Country." Charlie suggested the title Black Blanket Sun based on a comment Paul Westerberg makes in Trouble Boys. 

Here's another new demo: "Today, Today." I miss being able to record with the full band. My equipment here consists of the Ibanez, a Casio (which doesn't connect directly to the recording interface), and a mic. It's kind of fun to see how much one can play around within that limited range, but...yeah, I miss the band.

Stay well, everyone. I'll post some more songs this weekend.