Fall Editor's Note

L: Four times a year, our printer deposits a mountain of

boxes in our front hall. We pull off the tape to get our hands

on the new issues, our glossy seasonal produce. Upstairs the

magazines are variously pored over, flipped through, tossed

on the ground, stacked on the tables, organized

chronologically one day and repurposed as coasters the


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Nice Things to Write After He's Dead

“If you died, I would make you a Facebook status.”

My sister’s mouth stayed in a solid line as her pointer finger aggressively double tapped the phone screen.  It was a week before I left for school.  We were about to go to bed, and it was dark.  The blue light pooled onto her face and shifted as she continued to scroll.  It made it look like her flesh was moving.  I told her that once.  She rolled her eyes and said that I looked worse when I was on my phone.

She felt me staring at her and glanced up.

“No, for real.  I would.”

I was still looking at her.

“What?  That’s a big deal for me, especially because I never post on my timeline.  Like would you prefer Instagram or something?”

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What I Said, Where I Said It, and Why

To hear myself say it

To listen to myself saying it to you

Who listen, to them or who

Cares why I said it 

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La tos lo mantenía al borde de una convulsión. Comenzó con un estornudo y en breve estaba inmerso en un torbellino de espasmos sin poder dominar la brusquedad de los movimientos corporales.

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House of the Mountain Goats

If you listen to their tracks on Spotify, lyrics aside, the Mountain Goats (historically) sound almost exactly like a mixture of those names on the “related artists” list; Neutral Milk Hotel, The Thermals, The Magnetic Fields, Okkervil River, etc. Their sound is cohesive, the music comforting in a way NMH or Beirut are, and not to get personal but they were all I listened to freshman year during my first big depressive episode. The band is, to put it simply, relatable and easy to enjoy- even if and maybe because sometimes it’s all blended together in a folk-jazz-indie kombucha mix. But their tour's House of Blues gig last Monday night (led by front man Darnielle and opened by Mothers) absolutely shattered any expectations I had- and only, somehow, in ways that had me wondering why I don’t listen more.

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Jenny O. and The Solars

I’m gonna preface this write-up with a clarification, of sorts; something I’ve been taking for granted but never bothered to articulate (before now). Unless I say otherwise – and it’d take a productive imagination to think up any relevant scenario(s) – these bits are reviewing specific gigs; not the group, band, whatever you want to call it, that’s performing outside of how they present at the gig and how that jives with prior exposure. Before any of the reviews, if I haven’t already, I listen to relevant discographies, but unless I wanna take a God-like stance on “getting” the dynamics of a group from one measly gig (let me assure you I do not, don’t think my rabbi would be down w that anyway) these reviews are just reviews of the gigs they purport to cover. EOM. Having prefaced this then, I have to say that Monday night was not a great gig.

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