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Tour Blog; DAY 2 HELSINKI, FINLAND

Posted on April 28, 2010 at 10:11 AM

lentokonesuihkuturbiinimoottoriapumekaanikkoaliupseerioppilas. No shit. Look it up.

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DAY 1-2 Kill Hannah ; WAKE UP THE SLEEPERS World Tour

Posted on April 25, 2010 at 08:14 PM

Hello Raccoons! I’m going to take a break from Prefabricated Fag-band Remix mania, and devote this column to a proper daily tour blog/Blackberry photo vomit for the next couple weeks. When I return, we’ll re-launch the ASK MAT column, and resume arbitrary scattered posts about the random minutiae in my life. 

Never thought our band would ever be affected by a volcano in Iceland...  The plume of ash essentially grounded flights all over Europe and Scandinavia – we didn’t know until today whether we had any hope of traveling to our bus rendezvous in Finland.. but it all worked out..    sort of…

 

Flew from Chicago to NYC for a layover. Along the way i nimbly placed scraps of paper into Greg’s foul gaping mouth as he slept.. WAY more fun than I thought that would be.. all the tension.. all the risk... It was just like playing Operation™ when I was a kid.. I got several in, and was giggling my ass off until a Hasidic gentleman in the aisle shook his head and stared me down with a look that said, “Neither God nor I approve of your antics.” Fuck that guy, but I stopped anyway ‘cos he took all the fun out of it. Lesson RE-learned: Never make eye contact with anyone. Ever.

Greg eventually woke up and swore revenge on me... something about a tampon in my mouth next time I pass out. He usually commits to those kinds of threats.

Got to JFK airport and was informed of an 11 hour delay for our connecting flight to Helsinki. Would’ve been perfect to go into Manhattan for a while, but our tour manager forbade it.. Apparently I’m a “liability”.  Either way, the safe/smart/boring decision was made, and I proceed to explore my confines.

Along the way i stumbled upon this display of Homeland Insecurity

Finally found a strange tiny wine bar run by Jersey Serbians…. ordered a Brie, prosciutto and fig sandwich.. -paired with a flight of “warming reds”.. I asked the guy why they are referred to as “warming”, and he just stared at me... Then I asked if it’s because they warm your body.. Before i had even finished the question I think we both realized that we were teetering on the verge a discussion that’s way too personal for two guys who just met. After a healthy pause and a critical glare he said, “It’s a palate thing.” 

I already knew we’d never speak again in our lifetimes, but that pretty much cemented it.

Had my first “caper berry” too. It’s just a giant salty shitty caper. Aside from the size, there’s nothing berry-ish about it. They’re pretty low on my list of things that suck.. but they’re def on the list… prob somewhere between “stepping in water with your socks” and “Dennis Rodman.” Avoid.

Bored beyond all reason.  Too tired to work, too disappointed in my lack of productivity to get drunk... so I texted Dan: “I might hang myself if you want to watch.” His response: “Make sure to tie a good knot. Don’t botch it.”

All the while I’m wanting to donkey punch that volcano, and dreaming about a fantasy convo with a wine merchant…

Me: Hey, I need a gigantic cork..

Them: How big, like 2 inches?

Me: Try 2 miles..

Them: A two-mile wide cork?

Me: Yes.

Them: I don’t even know if we can do that, sir.

Me: You have to. It’s for the volcano in Iceland.

Them: Ok. For you, we will find a way. How do you even plan to put it in the volcano?

Me: You let me worry about that... just make the godamn thing.

FINALLY got on the flight… proper Xanax 8hr coma... arrived in Helsinki. Cabs to hotel in strange suburb. Walked to the ONLY local bar/club in the entire town, “The Flamingo,” which BTW happened to be in a MALL.. I kareoke’d to “White Wedding” and marveled at the weird Finnish-to-English mis-translations. For example, bartenders were wearing T-shirts hyping the slogan of a new energy drink, “VODKA AND BATTERY JUICE!”

The beer tasted like watery barf, the locals were dancing at half the tempo of the music, but I was just happy that the tour had officially begun.

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"You're OBSESSED with a FAG BAND!"

Posted on April 13, 2010 at 12:28 AM

Click HERE to follow Mat on Twitter.  Click HERE to follow Kill Hannah on Twitter

Eating: Sometimes you lose your appetite because the music industry is full of demonic orcs, there is no God, and that chocolaty Iraq smell has returned to your neighborhood… but then the exec chef at Blue 13 designs a haute cuisine interpretation of a Big Mac…. and you start to believe in dreams again.

Drinking: Black mango tea; bourbon milkshake; Two Hands Shiraz; Vino Nobile Di Montepulciano

Reading: a couple notes I’d scribbled to myself:

-It’s 2010, yet novelty stuntman Eric Scott is still pretty much the only person who ever flies with a jetpack… –and mostly at Monster Truck rallies. Why? Are they expensive or something? 

-Did Up In the Air truly get nominated for Best Picture –or am I in a dream where everything is normal, except that everyone loves the most boring movies ever made? I’d rather watch a Prenatal Yoga DVD.  

Watching (Netflix): Paper Heart; Felon;

Watching (YouTube): Bjork, All Is Full of Love music video; John C. Reilly Brules Rules- possibly the funniest web vignettes ever made

Watching (documentary): The Devil’s Miner by Kief Davidson and Richard Ladkani; The September Issue by R.J. Cutler… (starring Anna Wintour, the supposed inspiration for  Lauren Weisberger’s The Devil Wears Prada) 

I can now add “roman å clef” to my vocab, and add Grace Coddington and Bee Shaffer to my list of crushes

Watching (performance): Thom Yorke and Flea at Aragon (gorgeous old ballroom with constellations and clouds painted on the ceiling like Grand Central Station), HIM at House of Blues, Adore at the Steppenwolf Theatre

Listening to: Nostalgic Dorm Room Playlist #1: Cocteau Twins, Heaven or Las Vegas; The Dead Milkmen, Beelzebubba; Sunny Day Real Estate, Diary; The Smiths, Hatful of Hollow; The Cure, Pornography

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HELLO RACCOONS and welcome to another edition.

This past week, I've been in Chicago editing the Promise Me video, and prepping for the upcoming tour… I have a couple more anecdotes from Winter Music Conference in Miami, and my Blackberry is full of pics I want to share, but today I have a special gift for you instead: 

The BEST Kill Hannah HATE VIDEO EVER.

It’s not great because of it's creativity, it’s great because of it’s efficiency. Only a minute long, yet she manages to touch on all the essential bullet points; mainly, we suck, and we are gay.

All you aspiring haters, take notes. Class is in session:

I’ve generously transcribed her argument verbatim, deconstructed and put into outline form.

PART I: Call to Action. Mission Statement.

“I really hate the band Kill Hannah.

That fuckin' ... faggot.. in... the... the singer.

I just can not stand him.

He's not real.

He's so, like, prefabricated and.. “

This opening salvo is refreshingly succinct. She forgoes all the conventional niceties, such as a personal salutation, and gets right down to immediate business, putting her best foot forward.

The agenda is unambiguous: Clearly she has taken issue with my band, and in particular, me. She finds my image to be alarmingly contrived and disingenuous, and this is a legitimate cause for concern. She also expresses a strong disdain for homosexuals, of which, she is certain I am one.

PART II: Body

“I don't know, they're just... bleh!

-And, like, my roommate is obsessed with them!

He, like, loves them. He goes to their shows and everything, and i'm just like,

'Cool. I'm glad you're obsessed with a fag band.' “

Here, in classic textbook form, she expands upon the general sentiments asserted to in the introduction.

Then, in a stroke of genius, she baits the audience by citing an example of someone who, to the contrary, is surprisingly NOT disgusted by my music (her roommate), only to cut him down with a clever sarcastic jibe.

Further, her accusations of grotesque homosexuality have developed beyond me, individually, to now encompass the band as a whole.

PART III; 

“It's just kind of like...hehe... Why?

I don't...

and the.. ugh. No!”

Here she boldly and playfully departs from convention. Having already established and proven her case so cohesively in PARTS I and II, she wisely identifies this as a ripe moment for pure, unrehearsed, lyrical abandon.  

Rare, in cold logical discourse, is the chance to truly dance with language, and she seizes the opportunity. The clever use of monosyllables, in this instance, poetically conveys an uncensored, unfiltered passion for her cause. 

PART IV; Wrap up

“I don't understand.

I mean, if anyone likes them, more power to 'em,

I just don't want to hear about it.

Clear and simple. Thank you.”

Here, we find the elegant conclusion to the monologue, wherein the audience is reminded that, as permitted by the Constitution, all Americans are indeed free to enjoy whichever bands we like, (homosexual or otherwise) -provided it is kindly done so in seclusion.

In one final flash of brilliance, while playfully crossing her lazy eyes, she carefully chooses to finish with the words “Thank You…” -a disarming closing remark, proving that she is as gracious as she is passionate. –a shining example to us all, that even in verbal warfare, you can always have a touch of class.

After studying the footage so closely, I attempted to match her rhythm… 

I'd like to encourage you all to spread these videos virally, however you can.

Here's my first experiment with the audio... The "I Hate Kill Hannah FAG BAND REMIX."

Enjoy.

Post your remixes in the COMMENTS. 

Bye for now. xo Mat

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Happy First Day of Spring to All Raccoons - Zombie Easter; Chicago 2010

Posted on April 5, 2010 at 03:26 AM

Eating: raw ginger, dried crickets and meal worms (thank you @dravenreborn)

Drinking: Orange blossom green tea, Chilean red wine

Listening to: Ride, Going Blank Again; The Defiled, Resurrectionists; Bjork Debut; Jordin Sparks, Battlefield; MBV; NYC Speed remixes

Reading: All the interesting blog comments, and Esquire  

Watching (DVD): 500 Days of Summer commentary with director Marc Webb

Watching (YouTube): Between Two Ferns with Zack Galifianakis

 
From the first miserable day in October until this minute every year, the Chicago climate forces all its inhabitants to exist inside of a Joy Division album cover. –a bleak emotional state of suspended animation in a landscape that pulverizes hearts and demolishes spirits.

So, for the lucky survivors, The First Day of Spring has a VERY special significance. It’s a day of rebirth, shedding skin, and ditching your huge ugly jacket. -a prison break from solitary confinement and bad shapeless doomsday fashion.

Due to the perpetually black, medieval winter sky, we’ve almost totally forgotten that our collective manic-depression even has a “manic” side at all. For 5 months the switch is stuck on good old-fashioned, shoot-me-in-the-dick, Siberian “depression.” But, now…FINALLY… we can start to tilt the pendulum back.

It isn’t just a warm day, it’s a celebration of defiance… when we stand un-hunched in the safety of the sunlit beer garden and laugh at the Gods who tried so hard to freeze us to death, and failed.

As Jack Frost starts his annual long trek north, thru the abandoned waterparks of Wisconsin, into the sad wilderness of Canada, a small tear forms in his eye and then quickly crystallizes. He turns over his shoulder for one last sentimental glimpse of his beloved city by the lake, and all 2.8 million of us are giving him the middle finger. FUCK YOU, Jo-boo. Keep walking.

(Thank you, Trey Ratcliff for this arial photo, Chicago Thaws)

We all have our own personal traditions on this day, and many involve very athletic pursuits: 

For most guys, this means telling your boss something about a dying aunt, and then running, not walking, to the nearest rooftop bar. For most girls, this entails buying the sheerest spaghetti strap tank top she can find, and then prowling the streets all day -reminding every pale, sex-starved indie kid that, YES, she is very much alive, and yes, she does have pretty much godamn near-perfect nipples.

My tradition is a little more solitary. I open all the windows. I stand up and try to pry my fused shoulder blades apart for the first time… it’s a weird dance, like a defective baby dragonfly’s first flight; awkward, ugly and off balance. Anyway, once my sternum cracks into alignment and the sharp pain subsides, I limp to the stereo and blast one very specific album at full volume: Going Blank Again by RIDE.

If you live somewhere that sucks, (eg: if your state starts with a "Wy" and ends with an "oming") - or if you're in a situation that seems grim... hopefully track 1, Leave Them All Behind, will give you at least a small token of optimism... Because as dark as it gets sometimes, its important to be reminded that Spring will eventually come.

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