Here I am to say hello and re-invite you to a show and to say a couple other little nothings. It’s basically December. The cold has snapped and whether or not to drive down the hill now feels like a life or death question. I go slow and mostly stay home.
Except for coming up soon, I’ll be at this book launch event in Seattle:
Saturday, December 10th, 2022
This is the 2nd book launch/gallery exhibition that is planned for the big Geneviève monograph (more about the book below). This might be the last event for it. Although this is a big book that means big things and deserves a big multi-year fanfare, the author is not present and I, the assembler of it, don’t want to accidentally make it about me. So here’s this event where we’ll get together and…
I’ll play my one and a half songs from the Ô tribute compilation
Nicholas Krgovich and Ashley Eriksson will do their songs from that same thing
Lori Goldston will play for a little longer
original artwork and personal notebooks and sculptures by Geneviève Castrée will be on display, through Jan. 11sth, 2023
the books will be available plus a special rare little frontispiece
It’s at the Fantagraphics Bookstore in the Georgetown part of Seattle, 6 to 8pm, (early enough to still go over to the Dear Nora show at Vera Project after.)
Please come. See you there.
What is this book?
At the risk of repeating myself, here’s another little chunk of words about what this book is:
Geneviève Castrée was a French-Canadian artist who lived from 1981 - 2016. She was a cartoonist and musician and sculptor and many other things. She lived a life packed with overwhelming creativity and died too young from a surprise cancer. I was married to her and we had a baby daughter when this happened. (I’ve written about my experiences during this time on a couple albums of songs.) In the 5+ years since she died I slowly compiled the visual artwork she left behind into this comprehensive book, published by Drawn & Quarterly last month. After these years of living in the echo of her life and death, and in my own artistic navigations of those experiences, to have this beautifully made collection of her work all in one place is very gratifying. To collect the work and design the book felt like an extended act of love. Her hundreds of rich images are present on the page in the best possible way (aside from maybe seeing the originals). This book is a full portrait of her, a complex artist who crammed many lifetimes of inspiration into the short window she had. I hope everyone gets to lift its weight and see all that’s inside.
It is happening again.
It just occurred to me today that we’re now in the part of the year where people start posting their year-end stats of music listening provided (as a sneaky ad campaign) by the various streaming platforms, especially Sp****y. Each year I see these posts and get all twisted up with complicated feelings and want to go off on one of my famous tirades, but I usually manage to keep calm and say it better. If you’ve heard it before, please do not be annoyed now when I repeat myself here:
Dear music enjoyers, thank you for letting me know that you’ve listened to so many hours of my music. Wow, it is truly flattering, for real. But… did you also know that you are letting me know that you have decided not to support my actual ability to make that music? Maybe you didn’t know? I feel like it should be widespread common knowledge by now, but yes, it’s true, using streaming services for music is essentially the same as theft. What little money you do pay as a subscriber does not reach the artists in any real way. Too small a slice. “Why is your stuff on streaming services then?” you ask. Because I’m trying to survive in a busted system, genius, and total disappearance would not help me or anyone.
I’m not an eloquent or expert writer on this subject, and I encourage you to even just read a tiny bit more about it. But I just wanted to acknowledge we’re in that weird time of year for these complicated interactions that come off as “I love what you do, but not with money, not with you getting to buy food”.
This is a poisoned gripe. The chances are high of appearing ungrateful for this immense privilege of having a life in music and art. Getting paid attention to at all is crazy in our spread-thin maximal world. I feel those things constantly and I don’t take any of it for granted. I only speak up on this one flagrant crime because my hunch is that these nice people streaming my music actually would want to align their practices with their ideals, their sense of ethics. Right?
The good way is easy. Please buy my music digitally on bandcamp, or physically at my website. Thank you.
personal news
I’m setting up my recording stuff in the living room after a big amount of time with no workspace for music ideas. I’ve been happily working on other things, outside building and bonfire work mostly, but now the urge to be in headphones and blend sounds is becoming un-ignorable. Also, I’m determined to not do it on the computer, so this means I’m slowly cobbling together cables, adapters, patchbays, extension cords, and setting up my reel to reel recorder that’s been wrapped in bubble wrap for the past few years. It’s slow and satisfying. What will the songs even be about? Anything?
end of newsletter.
thanks, Phil
reading on the couch: Room To Dream by David Lynch
the coffee in the morning: Big Joy from Camber
listening to: the last 2 tracks over and over from Milk & Kisses by Cocteau Twins
This newsletter is my happy place and single-handedly allowed me to remove myself from Twitter. Best of luck with the book launch and to anyone reading this who hasn't already purchased, the Geneviève retrospective is big, beautiful, quality-made and would make an awesome gift for any art lover in your life. Can't recommend it enough.