The Best Punk Records You've Never Heard Of--Part 2 -- Rites of Spring, "End On End"

Rites of Spring were:

Guy Picciotto -- vocals, guitar
Brendan Canty -- drums
Mike Fellows -- bass
Ed Janney -- guitar


            Rites of Spring were a D.C. band from 1985-86 (dates not confirmed). Their album End on End hit me hard in the heart and broke me open emotionally from the first time I heard it. The songs on the album were like little a-bombs dropped on my world. (In 1987, I got a homemade Rites of Spring tattoo).
            Caught at a distance from myself
            And there was noone there to know
           What could I do?
            Sometimes a need can run too deep
           And we throw away the things
            We most wanted to keep
                                       -- "Spring"

           Well I woke up this morning
           With a piece of the past caught in my throat
           And then I choked
                                     -- "For Want Of"

                 Guy's lyrics were both personal and passionate. I responded to them with a fervor I hadn't felt in a long time about a band. I loved how the music would swell and crash like monster waves. This is an album I will always be thankful exists. It is not just a great album, it is beautiful. 

The Best Punk Records You've Never Heard Of -- Part 1 -- Embrace (D.C.)

"You know I thought that my eyes they would be dry/ But now I see and know, the movement has a bitter taste/ I will not have my statements spit back into my face/ We all wait so long for our dreams to be realized/ They end up objects of our own despise" -- "Dance of Days" Embrace

Embrace was a Washington, D.C. hardcore band consisting of  Ian MacKaye (ex-Minor Threat)--vocals, Michael Hampton--guitar, Chris Bald--bass and Ivor Hanson--drums. Their self-titled album came out in 1987.

"In the summer of '85 there was renewed spirit in D.C., often referred to as 'Revolution Summer.' This 'Revolution Summer' included a handful of bands that preferred smaller more intimate venues and focused on a more personal and introspective interpretation of punk rock. Embrace, which was formed by ex-Minor Threat member Ian MacKaye and three of the former members of Faith, was part of this renewal. The band played shows from the summer of 1985 until the spring of ’86"
-- from the Dischord Records website.

I first got the Embrace album in 1987. Not only was the spirit of hardcore broken then, but my personal life seemed quite an unknown at that time. I had spent so much time on punk rock that I didn't quite know what to do when the scene in Seattle was fading. Post-punk and pre-Grunge, the feel-good times of the Metropolis had given way to a kind of malaise.

The Embrace album was the perfect companion to the pain I was in. Ian MacKaye's prior band, Minor Threat, was a positive influence on the whole punk scene and my own life. I looked forward to Embrace and thought it would pick me up with a feel-good kind of message.

I was wrong.

The album is a raw, personal look at Ian's bitterness and rage at the way hardcore had changed and disappointed him. Just as I and many others of his generation were feeling it, he put it all on record.
The music is hard-charging but melodic.

In spite of the bitterness, there is resolve, if not hope. One only need listen to the song, "No More Pain" to recognize this wasn't the end of things, but a new beginning. After Embrace broke up, Ian formed Fugazi with members of Rites of Spring.

No More Pain

No more lying down
We've got to speak and move
No more righteousness
Everything is far too wrong
No more selfish tears
You haven't paid for them
No more dressing up
Please leave your costumes home
No more looking down
You might just bump your head

The purpose is within yourself
The movement is within yourself
Your emotions are nothing but politics
So get control...


"No More Pain" is a powerful statement. Ian sings about loss, friendship, greed, violence and suicide in the songs on this album. I highly recommend it.

Happy New Year 2018

Dear friends,

              Last year is last year now. Just a quick post to let you know I am back and am going to attempt to blog more regularly.

Just Records...Or Not Part One

Last  Friday I sold the majority of my last remaining records (along with some books), to Singles Going Steady record store located in downtown Seattle. The records were not ones I wanted to part with, but I am in a position right now where I need money more than I need objects that are put away where they had no use. A few of those records I have had since 1980, rare punk gems. The books and records netted me almost $150. Still, as  I left without my records and books, a sadness came over me. I felt lost, uncertain, and almost grief-stricken. I also felt relieved, joyous, and free. These mixed feelings were caused by the war inside me between who I was, and who I am today. I am still trying to figure out what to do about my war.

Getting Ready To Perform Again

    I've been thinking about turning 50 next year, and what I haven't done that I would really like to do. One thing that I want to do is perform spoken word/poetry live again. It would give me great pleasure to actually publish a chapbook of poems again and go on a little tour doing readings. My tentative goal is to make that happen by the Spring of 2016. In order to do this I will need to focus on these things:
1) Attend open mikes around town.
2) Host a gig myself
3) Finish my poetry chapbook
4) Publish my poetry
5) Practice self-promotion of some kind.
6) Blog


Ok, now I have put it out there. Let the magic begin!

I Had A Poetry Teacher Once

     I had a teacher once. She lifted me out of my creative poverty. The poems came more easily then, and I judged them less. Shelley Tucker (Writing Poetry) was that teacher. She welcomed a motley group of poets and potential poets into the gorgeous studio behind her house in Ballard. We removed our shoes and drank "poetry tea" (Good Earth's original -- or maybe decaf) -- it's earthy, cinnamon sweetness delighting our tongues. She also had a second teapot, usually filled with a ginger tea that left a tang on the tongue. Hot tea for hot poems. There were between 8 and 12 of us gathered around a large table. We had the freedom to write whenever we wanted, and were urged to be as generous with praise as we wanted to be, leaving heavy criticism (unless the poet asked for it) outside of the sacred space.
       Shelley became my mentor. Her workshops were magical because she had an abundance of love, not just for the craft of poetry, but for the energy and beauty that lived in the "ordinariness" of our words. Her workbooks were not necessarily  only templates, and the exercises in them were not required -- but were places to jump off from, maps to the landscape of our souls.
       Shelley gave me permission to use her materials (Write From The Source workbooks) in my own workshops, and I did use them a couple of times, but haven't yet had the COURAGE or space to do so again. I can come up with all kinds of excuses why, but the main reason is that I doubt I can carry it off as brilliantly as she did. Hopefully, though, one day I will give it a shot.
         Looking back, Shelley's workshops saved me for many years. I feel so grateful to her for showing me how abundant creativity is, if I just take that first word and put it on the page.

Starting The Old Blog Up, All Rusty and Falling Apart

Went to the gym today, at 5:30a.m., and walked on the treadmill for about 20 minutes. I am 45, out-of-shape, with high cholesterol. I then went to Fred Meyer and bought a cheap "analog" scale, to track my weight loss (or gain). I never thought I'd be here, at this point in my life, all rusty and falling apart, like this blog. But here I am. I am in desperate need of a makeover, or something, because my way of doing things hasn't been working.  I mean, I no longer have a job, never set foot in my so-called home office, and get winded climbing the library's few stairs. Yet, in two weeks I'll be starting school to get into a new "career", and it has nothing to do with my passion, but everything to do with bringing home a higher paycheck than retail can bring. Meanwhile, I'm still hoping for a gig, a job, something to help me out.

I was also searching online  to win a makeover, because I need new front teeth, and some nice clothes for interviews, etc. If I ever get another interview. My affirmation is: "The perfect job for me is already mine. It is right and fun, and has many benefits." This is Rusty Roxy signing off for now.

Sonic Youth, "Daydream Nation"

Checked out the Sonic Youth album "Daydream Nation" yesterday from the library because I don't own a copy anymore and thought I'd give it another listen. I used to have it on tape. This would probably be one of my desert island discs because it does not tire with repeated listenings and is simply a gorgeous bundle of noise and music. I would recommend this album to anyone interested in underground, indie, rock or punk music. It's simply one of the greatest records of all time.

Johnny Thunders and Solitaire

I was listening to this fantastic Rhino Records compilation (4 cds) of Punk music and the song "Chinese Rock" came on:

Somebody called me on the phone
Hey is DeeDee home...

I'm living on Chinese rock
All my best things are in hock
I'm living on Chinese rock
Everything is in the pawn shop

At least I think that is the lyric. It's such a cool song, I played it again this morning. Last night I was playing Solitaire on the computer and realized, I'm not living on Chinese Rocks today, and I am grateful for that. Still, the grit and grime and New York-ness of that song gets to me somehow. Johnny Thunders and the Heartbreakers did it. DeeDee Ramone wrote it. The Ramones have done the song, too. It's a classic. The heartbreak of heroin addiction written very matter-of-factly. And there I was, just playing some Solitaire and having a very mellow evening. I even did the dishes. Then this song just hit me in the solar plexus and I dug it big time.

Inspiring Words By Tama J. Kieves

A Message from Tama Kieves

The Secret to More Energy: Tap the Geyser of Your Gifts I talked to a woman who had been very gifted in music, but who hadn't pursued it as an adult. "I am afraid of failing," she said, but as we talked further, she admitted in the quiet tones of held back truth, that she felt like a failure now. She felt tired and angry, out of sorts with her life. I don't blame her. It takes more effort to create a life you don't want than to create the life you crave.An unused gift is a keg of dynamite. It's dangerous. It leaks out and begins to poison you. It haunts your cells with a hoarse song, "use me or die, use me or die." Your gifts are powerful energy sources. It takes so much energy to hold back life. It hurts to choose smallness. It hurts to let yourself down in secret ways, muffling the cries that no one else hears. It hurts to resist the evolutionary instinct within you to grow, express, go beyond survival and thrive, and stake your one true place upon this planet.Brother David Stendl Ross said "The answer to exhaustion is not rest. It's wholeheartedness." Doesn't that make you sit up straight or want to volunteer to be put on active duty in your life? I know it's true. After I left a high paced legal career, I spent a year napping, and wandering in my own home like a small child lost at the mall. I'd keep seeing familiar things, but I couldn't find any bearing. I felt exhausted and burdened and overwhelmed. Finally, I realized that I was "resting" in order to avoid myself. I wasn't exhausted by my efforts in life, but by my lack of efforts - my lack of dedication to do the things that mattered most to me.An unused gift (or one you don't take all the way to harvest) will quietly annihilate your life. I think it's a national threat. I think the Surgeon General should put it up there with smoking cigarettes, asbestos, uranium, and, maybe, mean small-spirited people who run for office. It's not that you'll keel over because you didn't start taking photographs or take the trip you always wanted to take. But you will walk off kilter. Your heart will beat with labor as though it has to pick up an extra thousand pounds. Your hair may be brittle and your voice will crack when you say your name. There is something unrighteous about not singing your song, doing what you came here to do. And it can change this minute, this very second. You can choose to love yourself this way.I urge you to do what you love and share it, now. Speak for free about a cause you believe in. Paint cards and give them to someone. Get out of the mentality that it has to end up in a gallery or you have to get paid a certain amount of money for it to be worth it. You are worth so much more than that kind of limited thinking. Besides, you can't imagine the capacities, passports, and shooting stars you deny yourself by withholding your love.I remember speaking one night at a small church in Minneapolis. I led a meditation, a spontaneous prayer. It felt right, as though a melody and harmony came together in a song I didn't know I would sing. Let's face it, I'm a Jewish girl from Brooklyn, so this didn't seem the kind of thing I would spread on my bagel, so to speak. Not only that, but I'm a finely tuned logical instrument trained at Harvard Law School, so this spiritual, surrender, go into the big union-fest kind of thing wasn't originally on my tour itinerary. But the experience was bigger than my thoughts about myself. The feeling was definitive, even if I had no definition. "I will do this," I heard myself say in the inner sanctum of my being. "I will say yes." I knew I was saying yes to leading, serving, honoring this small voice within me, a voice that used a different alphabet and octave of possibility, and spelled things out in whole new ways. It made no sense to my "practical" self. There was no money to be had here, no fame or recognition. There was nothing I'd submit to my alumni magazine in a billion years or share at a networking group or even a backyard barbecue. Still, I felt as though I was saying yes to bigger questions. I was saying yes to a larger game. I didn't know what I was saying yes to, but the act of saying yes, felt like love of a higher order. I felt as though Spirit was asking me, will you play for my Team? Yes, maybe, I should have asked about the benefits package, but I was teeming with benefits at the time, and feeling something I'd never want to retire from. The questions spread through my cells: Will you trust this goodness? Will you spread light? Will you follow your guidance and ignore the fears and instructions of the world? Will you bless everyone you can by doing what you love? I said yes, then, and I still do.Oh and I'll tell you this. There are so many gifts that come from doing what you love. It's a joke to me that people think they will be poor by following something infinite, invincible, and alive within them. I want to tell them about the increased energy, immunity, clarity and peace. I want to tell them about the ridiculous synchronicities and elves and extra cherries in their cherry bowl. I want to reassure them that they'll shine in colors invisible to the human eye, but not to the human heart; and it's inevitable that everyone wants to hire someone who glows.Mostly I want to tell them about the love. It's a love that has a texture and a depth and a fragrance like nothing else. It's a love that makes the axis of the earth finally tilt in your direction. It's a love that makes all things possible, and nothing necessary. Of course, that love is intangible, but bear in mind that every good thing on this planet started with a delicate desire and a great amount of love. Also, you may think love is intangible, as in insubstantial, but let me say this. No tangible item, income or substance, nothing in this whole world or universe, will ever make up for its absence.Please take care of your energy. I am amazed at how much money we will pump into taking care of our bodies, while we casually and consciously ignore our souls. I watch people go on health kicks. They drink wheat grass for God's sake, while refusing to play the piano or read about starting a yoga studio, or whatever else they long to do. Why pop a thousand vitamins and supplements if you're swallowing poison every night? It's poison to tolerate the boredom, the loneliness, and the relentless haunting. When you do what you love, the loneliness ends. A part of yourself holds and loves you as you have never been loved before.I'm not saying you have to quit your job or move to New York City to dance on Broadway. Start small, because believe me, there are no small steps. Every step you take to honor your dreams is huge. Take 10 minutes and sing, write, brainstorm about your vision or ideal business, meditate, or journal or do the one thing you know would make all the difference to you to do. You know what it is. Start this very second. Or do what it takes to kick start yourself. Go on a weekend retreat. Go to the ends of the earth. Hire a coach, a therapist , a lion tamer or a medicine man or anyone who will tie you down to the mast of your ship, and help you ignore the Sirens, if that's what it takes. Please do whatever it takes to be wholehearted. Save your life and transport it, all at the same time, in this lifetime.An unused gift is a keg of dynamite. It can blow up your life. But if you use it wisely, it can blast through limitations. It can blast through dimensions and galaxies. It can blast through resistance, guilt, doubts, fears, and the sad illusion that you ever had to struggle or be adrift in any way. It can be a blast.(Join Me at the Omega Institute August 13-15 for Unleashing Your Calling: Create the Work and Life You Love! Or again at Kripalu in the Berkshire Mountains during leaf changing season, October 11-15)
Love and blessings,Tama©Copyright 2010 Tama J. Kieves. All rights reserved.

September 19 -- Seattle WACenter for Spiritual LivingTama speaks to the 9:00am and 11:00am services[ More info ]September 19 -- Seattle WACreating the Work You Love!Workshop at Center for Spiritual Living[ More info ]

No NPR For A While

I'm putting myself on a no-news diet. At least until I pull out of this depression. But, I often listen to NPR as a matter of habit. And I get the Everett Herald. I don't have t.v. and don't watch the news, but listening and reading are bad enough. I'll see how long I can last.

Memoir, Etc

I am reading this book by Natalie Goldberg (Writing Down The Bones) called An Old Friend From Far Away. There are various exercises to lead one down the path of memoir. One simple starting point is to write "I remember..." and go from there. So far the book has inspired me to do some writing about my life, my past.

Lately I have been thinking a lot about the past because the present just isn't all that exciting. I can't blame anyone but myself for this. Depression, boredom, self-pity, lack of acceptance, etc.
Well, at least I can say I blogged today.

Will Work For Gas or Money

I just found out my bank account is overdrawn. I have a couple of options and they don't thrill me. One is to borrow money from someone. The other is to pawn my bass guitar. The other, third and most uncomfortable option is to do nothing. Do nothing. I get only $30 this week from unemployment, then have to wait at least a week for a decent check.

I am continually disappointed partly because I keep having expectations. I expect that at some point I will have an interview that results in a job. But so far that hasn't happened. I feel a little bit like my whole life is on hold at the moment.

I'm going to look into volunteering more. What else is there to do? I've recently started a memoir as well. Plus daily blogging. I feel as if a giant weight is sitting on my shoulders, and sometimes I wake up at 5a.m. feeling like there is someone watching me. But there is no one there. I am alone.

90 Days of Blogging

I have decided to write something for this blog, or my other one, every day for 90 days. It's kind of a test to see how dedicated I can be as a writer. Since I have such difficulty practicing writing, this may help. I don't know. I got this idea from a friend. His name is Jeff Engels and he has this kick-ass Mariners blog at http://www.jeffsmariners.com . He's been doing it faithfully for the past few months.

We'll see how this works out.

Some Thoughts About Shopping and Fear

"Capitalism is constantly and perpetually disappointing.” Tom Hodgkinson, author of The Freedom Manifesto

I confess that I hate shopping. Going in to a store to purchase anything fills me with so much angst and dread that I avoid it until it becomes apparent, by holes in my underwear or a dirty litter box, or a lack of food in my house, that I must go to the store.

When I say I hate shopping, it is not an active, spit in the face of consumerism hate, although at times I feel that, too. I hate the predatory nature of stores. The way they pander to my basest desires. How they constantly tell me I am getting a good deal, when I know better.

What is ironic is that it is anxiety and boredom that drive me to the stores again and again. I can window shop like a mofo, cruising the aisles, pretending to be mulling over purchases while what I’m really doing is distracting myself from real life. I’m bored, or I’m stuck, or I’m just lonely and wish to be around people. Pathetic.

Oftentimes, shopping fills my brain with so much stimuli and psychic pain I go numb. I go into a kind of trance. But even in a trance I know that what I want is not at the store. I have come home too many times with items which then cause more anxiety than the desire for them did.

I know I have an unhealthy fear and anxiety around money and spending. I feel more comfortable in the hole (because it is familiar), than when I have a fat balance in my account. It feels wrong somehow, to have more than someone else. Somehow, to me, poor=virtuous, while rich=evil. I only need to look at Bill Gates, Sr. and Bill and Melinda Gates to know this is not true. Some poor people are evil. Some wealthy are generous and virtuous at heart. Money is not the problem, nor is it the solution. But I know that my thoughts and attitudes hold me back from making the kind of life I wish for myself.

In my ideal life, I will have divested myself from all debts. I have made all my financial amends and can pay for my education without going further into debt. I can freely travel. I am able to contribute to charity and help others achieve their goals and dreams. Mainly it is freedom from the constant pressure of bills and debts that I want. Someday.

BLAH BLAH BLAH BLOG

There is not really any reason for me to blog because nobody reads the dang thing anyway. When I used to publish ‘zines it at least felt like there was something tangible to hold onto, something physical to give to people. Now I’m just spewing words into the ether. It’s a lot less satisfying. So, I’m going to ask my friends to read my blog and see what response I get. If I get one at all. I am still not quite down with this virtual friend world. Not that I have a lot of virtual friends. Most of my friends are people I see in person from time to time. Being unemployed I have a lot of time to try to structure. I get so distracted from what I want to do. I don't really have much more on this subject, except more and more I want to print my own 'zine again.

Terrified In The Land Of Creativity

I’m scared to do what I need to do to get my books done. Interviewing people is not my strong suit, and that’s what I’m gonna have to do. Gregg Turkington (Neil Hamburger, comedian) told me, “Anything worth doing is worth doing badly”. I love that idea, but I have a Virgo moon and it fucks with my head about myself all the time. So I am putting a plea out into the universe to help me get going again. A spur in my side, gentle, but a spur none-the-less. I need that.

I visited ZAPP at Richard Hugo House yesterday. If you do not know what ZAPP is, it’s Zine Archive Preservation Project. I meant to do some research, but ended up just donating some zines, looking at their rarities, and leaving. I was mostly thinking about my best friend lying in the hospital after knee replacement replacement surgery. Yes, she had her replacement replaced. Ouch. So that made it hard to concentrate.
ZAPP is fuckin’ cool, especially if you are interested in zines. They have zines dealing with music, art, comics, poetry, personal (printed blogs basically) and miscellaneous. They let you make copies of stuff you want to, and it’s pretty freakin’ great. The volunteers are helpful and nice. I was there a few years ago, when it was in the basement of the Hugo House. I remember it smelled like something died in the walls. Now they are upstairs in a nice room that smells more like coffee. The shelves are packed, but they welcome donations.
ZAPP is located in the Capitol (Capital?) Hill section of Seattle. They have very limited hours, but the hours are on the Hugo House website. I’m sure they need volunteers. If I didn’t live in buttfuck Everett I would volunteer. I’m sorry I called it buttfuck Everett. Everett is not that bad. It’s not the greatest, but I have my little places I go that make it tolerable.

Verna’s Everett Places

Stars N Stripes Espresso – I know, the name is so post-9/11, but it is my fave drive-thru espresso place. They really have the cheapest prices. They are located on Evergreen Way and are on the way to my second favorite place.

Advanced Chiropractic – Dr. Beasley (or Dr. Greg) has mad back skills. If you live in Everett and need help with your back you should go see him. He’s nice and his staff are all nice, too. I just can’t afford to see him right now, but his office is close to my next favorite place.

The Evergreen Branch Library – Don’t hate me when I say, you can only use this branch if you live in certain parts of Everett. No, I don’t get it, either, but it probably has to do with funding or something. Anyway, I go there to go online, check out some books, and occasionally smell the sweet smell of homelessness. There but for the grace of God and all that. The staff are pretty cool there, but the branch is not as awesome as my fourth favorite...

The Mukilteo Library – A beautiful library in nearby Mukilteo. It has a fireplace, lots of computers, comfy seating, lots of books (oh, but who goes to the library for books anymore?) (Just kidding) . On a nice day you can walk around back and end up on a trail that goes down into some woods… it’s just so pretty. Love it.

Burn It All Down -- fiction story

Burn It All Down
I hid in the dark and watched my handiwork. I had been up for four days and could not sleep. I couldn’t eat and lived on Vitality water. She was gone and I was still here. So it was only fitting that I made a pyre out of my regrets and longings. Burning The Midnite Oil down was a cliché too delicious to forgo. I had to do it. Why? She was gone, that’s all. So it had to go. My club. My beautiful, horrible club, burning to the ground, drowning under the water from the firefighter’s hoses. My night manager, Cliff, made a statement to the press. With a look of shock across his smug goateed face. His piercings glittering in the glare of camera lights. Haha, Cliff. I hope you are struck with insomnia, you prick. I yawned as I watched the spectacle die down.
That night I had the best sleep of my life.

(I got the idea for this from a prompt on the Writers Digest page).

"Half Nelson" review

Half Nelson (The Dialectic Of Film)

DIALECTIC: The Hegelian process of change in which a concept or its realization passes over into and is preserved or fulfilled by its opposite;also: the critical investigation of this process (Merriam-Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary, 11th Edition,2003.)

One of the things that makes us human is our ability to distance ourselves from our own behavior. This ability allows us to do horrible things to ourselves and others, yet not let those things move us to act differently. We are capable of astounding levels of self-destruction. We are also capable of the opposite – the creation and appreciation of beauty, in ourselves and others.
Daniel Dunne (Ryan Gosling), the protagonist of the movie “Half Nelson”, is a teacher in the inner city who epitomizes the Hegelian struggle. Just as he offers his students a glimpse into how dialectics and history collide and collapse into each other, his own idealism collapses under the weight of the cynical world in which he lives. His idealistic heart crushed, melted and inhaled through a pipe or a straw. His cynical mind challenged by his students, particularly Dree (Shareeka Epps), a witness to his otherwise internal struggle.
History repeats. History repeats. Like a heart beats. As Daniel Dunne, Gosling gives a nuanced and unforgettable performance. It could have come off as a ‘crackhead with a heart of gold’ cliché, but Gosling fully gets the complex nature – the dialectics of Daniel – of his character. Shareeka Epps has the natural grace to portray Dree in a subtle yet powerful way. That she is new to the acting game makes her performance all the more amazing. Anthony Mackie displays his own brilliance as both protector and user (she becomes his drug deliverer) of Dree.
The film is both heartbreaking and a triumph. A rare look at the complexities of addiction -- how insight can sometimes blind us from the bigger picture.