The DATA plan.

No computers were used in the construction of these flyers.

No computers were used in the construction of the flyers shown in this post. (Click on through for larger views.)

One night, some years ago, my bandmate and I spent a thoroughly enjoyable few hours at Kinko’s, working on a flyer for an upcoming show. I brought fifty or so copies of the final version home with me and peeled one off to show my roommate, whose comment was, “Nice flyer. So, when’s the show?”

Yes: I’d forgotten to include that information. I slapped my forehead and called my bandmate, who slapped his and called us both morons, and we agreed to meet back at Kinko’s the following evening to add that important detail (and run off another batch of copies).

As I lay in bed that night, I concocted the following mnoronic (you see what I’ve done there) device, which I include herewith:






These are all of the core, crucial, essential elements that any flyer should have, whether it’s a punk rock show or a lecture on the intrinsic hegemony of the modern workplace. (The only item left out is “Age,” which, in regards to all-ages shows, can be a crucial factor* in the punk scene; I’ll leave it to the reader to decide whether or not to add a third “A” to this device.

Chris Ware has not approved this message.

Chris Ware has not approved this message.

The next day, when I met my bandmate at Kinko’s, I told him excitedly about my invention. His reaction wasn’t what I’d hoped for.

“Keep it to yourself,” he said. “No need to broadcast how dumb we are.” And, on thinking it over in the cold, hard and rapidly dimming light of the new day, I had to concur.

But I think enough time has passed since then—and I have no doubt whatsoever that there are still people in bands absent-minded, distracted, forgetful or just plain dumb enough to make these kinds of mistakes. It’s for that dopey but loveable crowd that I’m finally going public with the DATA system. Simple, memorable, effective. (Maybe jot it down somewhere so you don’t forget it.)

Oh, what a nite.

Oh, what a nite.

* Inexplicably, Crucial Factor is not the name of a straight-edge, hardcore, metal or any other band. xCRUCIALFACTORx WTF


Poptimism in the truest, most graspingly desperate sense of the (made-up, hilarious) word.

hearting u 4 evs

Wow, Pitchfork; so, in the new world, do we really have to dig under Nickelodeon spinoff sitcom rocks to find the debuts of future pop starlet also-rans so that we can give them a 6 out of 10 next to music made by (and ostensibly for) grown-ups?

Apparently, we do.

Well, all right! Hell, let’s crack open the Night Train and get it over with! My friends; my good, good friends: Here’s to comparing Carly Rae Jepsen to—well, to anything in the world, out of haplessly ambitious ass-coverage and sheer desperation.

It’s okay, Pitchfork. The last ten years haven’t been a colossal waste of time—they’ve just been an exercise in discovering just how far down this thing can go.

…And here we are. See you on the other side!

P.S.: Just kidding; see you at “South By.” We’ll be the ones in the party tent rocking glow-in-the-dark label promo gear and doing shots!

Sorry, can’t talk right now.

Busy hitting “refresh” over and over at the Italians Do It Better site.


This is in or around being an obsessive record-collecting dope (with exceptional taste in music and design).

Seriously; you should look into this label. $5 for a CD? $10 for a record (on color vinyl, with free download, of course)? Free downloads of like half their catalog (or more) over at Soundcloud? Sweet DIY/glam analog/photocopy-style graphic design and really fun, sharply-crafted and overall awesome music?

How is the mainstream music industry collapsing when this model exists?

(Oh, wait; I forgot—greed, aggressive short-sightedness, suing the people they should have been figuring out how to appeal to, and giving today’s limos and lunches priority over staying in business tomorrow. Easy to overlook.)

Too many bands, not enough… Oh, forget it.

“So—I hear you’re in a band these days, Kyle?”

“Yeah, Aunt Beth. We’re called American Car.”

“I am 63 years old and even I am aware that your band will be impossible to find on the internet. Did my sister fall down the stairs while she was carrying you?”

Sigh. I knew you wouldn’t ‘get it,’ Aunt Beth. Whatever. We’re playing a show next week with Banana Phonetic and Tree Frog Avengers. We’ll be doing a new song I wrote about how a girl made me feel.”

“I want to talk to Kyle. I know Kyle is in there. Kyle, can you hear me? It’s your Aunt Beth. Follow my voice.”

Based on a true story. Well, probably, anyway. You can’t make this stuff up.