dear members of the english-speaking world,

it is black’s turn. how do you play a 4, 1 and why?

Hello again, music fans. Here’s the diary entry I promised!

Friday, 7 September

Dear Rock’n'Roll Diary:

It’s time to pack for a weekend recording! Here is my suitcase:

Upon switching to my current rig, my case was vastly overpowered by cable and pedals, so I was graciously rewarded an upgrade in the form of the band’s old merch suitcase. There was extra space, so late on Thursday night, I dumped some clothing, $200 of homeopathic meds prescribed by my new doctor who recently affirmed that I am indeed as consistently ill as I have always suspected, my teddy bear, and some pink pajama shorts, which later doubled as a dust cloth upon realizing how dirty the keys of the aforementioned Roland Jupiter 6 happened to be.

On Friday afternoon, Trevor and I piled three or four synths into Joe’s car, microwaved some burritos, closed up our house, shed a collective tear over our aquatic snail who passed away this week, and left about 40 minutes later than we had planned. I made my typical nest in the back seat, wedging myself in between yet another synth, a trumpet and a cooler containing approximately 1.7 pounds of dark chocolate and a large bowl of homemade salsa.

About four minutes into our trip, hunger struck: it was time to test the salsa. The salsa had enjoyed its night marinating in the fridge: full of a friend’s urban farm tomato goodness, lime juice, locally grown garlic that must have been picked yesterday, and fresh cilantro, it had turned itself into a fresh cold summery soup. Which, at a stop sign on our steep hill, was promptly sloshed directly from the bowl in my lap onto my Personal Nether Regions. That is to say, for the next three hours, I traveled with salsa soaked underwear.

When we finally stopped at a Sheetz I was excited to see that the ladies’ room came equipped with both paper towels, for mopping up salsa, and a hand dryer, whose nozzle I aimed past my waistband directly into my now clean but very wet pants.

And then we left, and drove several more hours until we reached New Jersey.

Believe me, Diary, this rock-n-roll lifestyle is every bit as glamorous as it looks in those press photos. To quote my beloved college roommate: “Cha cha cha!”

dear megan -

i’m sorry. i knew this would happen.

while the rest of gn,s was at the studio in ny/nj, i remained in pittsburgh, taking pictures and posting drum gear for sale on ebay and my picasa site. of course, i waited all weekend to do so, and knew that the fervor for blogging about the recording weekend would happen when you returned on sunday evening.

so, as i wait with baited breath to hear about the studio weekend myself, i have to interrupt your blog post earlier this evening with my ill-timed post about drum gear. mmm…gear.

i have one of my mlasko custom snares for sale, as well as my korg electribe drum machine/sampler. there are also some cool cymbals and stands and other things kicking around. i even have some secret stuff that’s not even posted that you can inquire about.

any questions? reply to this post and i’ll get you hooked up.

dan

Well hello there, music fans.

As the girliest member of Good Night, States (though perhaps we should vote; Trevor keeps nominating Joe), I have been considering adding some elements of domesticity to our corner of the blogosphere. Perhaps some favorite
Rock ‘N Roll Recipes? Advice on removing the beer stain you acquired at our last show? Or my favorite idea of all: a cross-stitch pattern featuring the faceplate of our largest synth, the Roland Jupiter 6.

In time, I may just share some of these ideas with you all, but since my current knowledge of cross-stitch is nonexistent, I will soon tell you – in Diary Style, because that’s girly - about our weekend recording some final parts of our newest album.

Ta ta for now!

let me preface this post by intoning dully that 1) i am not a conspiracy theorist and 2) i have the technological adaptivity of an 80-year-old.

i’m not in the habit of blogging (see above), but trevor’s been pretty forthcoming with his encouragement to post here, and i like the idea ok. this is the moment when i begin tutoring again in earnest, spending a good deal of time looking at my schedule and generally being thankful that i have such a great job. dan has already posted a beautiful word about the seasons changing (a sentiment i share, and feel acutely) and the real year beginning now, and i can agree heartily. what sits most prominently in my thoughts after this past weekend together is a big bundle of the new and thanks-worthy and changing in our life as a band, and the freshness and excitement of every bit of our art that lies directly ahead, straight in front of our glory-reflecting faces.

of course, those thoughts are often interrupted these days by (understandable) questions from all sorts of folks about good night, states–mostly why we made it and most of all why we broke what was there before it. the reactions to my often halting answers are sometimes resonant and positive, but frequently dismayed. it makes me wonder whether the attachments we form to things that have been replaced are formed only retroactively (after all, were there so many of these ardent fans of our former project at shows?).

for instance, my long-ago-sold yamaha cs-1 (i am only including this so that i can put a “synth” label on this post):

(i definitely love it more now than when i had it.)

the more i think about, the more i feel guilty about the similar sentiments that i harbor. in seemingly every corner of modern living to which i turn sits quietly a mode of operation that i wish i could unseat, but obviously cannot. say… income tax. or texting. the mixtapes i loved have long been replaced; also, it’s hard to find really great beatle boots. life wasn’t always this way but it is now, and it didn’t happen by faceless evolution. there’s no inevitable force that turns culture gradually into oldies stations. in fact, steve jobs did it, willfully and over time, and he was able to get it all done because he has ALWAYS had an iphone, and he always will, and he also gives himself $100 rebates for it periodically. (that last statement is not technically true.)

in other words, change that i think is sad is made by others intentionally and in the name of progress. and we (in a very small example) have probably now made others similarly sad by ending something–replacing something–to which they had great emotional attachment. give and take. the world is made of wills.

now with pause, but without conclusion, i bid you all good evening. the old is ever going away; be about the new.