#daniel sought him out dragged him into the mess

[verstappenf1lecccc]

Random ass fic DONT even know where this came from I dreamt of this and now i am writing it. Around 10K words!!

She didn’t even know when or how she ran into Max, but the fact that she did run into him meant that this was the end of her freedom. Her parents always told her to be careful when choosing her friends, but they never warned her about friends' older brothers. It was late August, almost early September.

She was almost dozing off in class while her friend complained about her toxic relationship. Seeing as her friend was not even supposed to be in one, she knew any involvement from her side would result in nothing but trouble. She had planned to help her friend run away, far away from her family and her toxic partner, just far away from everything. It was a foolish idea, one that she should have known would get her into trouble.

Alas, she just wanted to help. They fled from the university campus, her friend came from good money, meaning they had so much money they could afford having 16 cars lined up just for security. They made the mistake of trusting one of their other friends, Daniel. In short, she got caught, and her friend swiftly disappeared, leaving her to deal with this mess all alone. What seemed like good fortune quickly turned around once she kneed the guard to run free back into class.

Her hair was messy, eyes erratic, and breathing even worse. She tried to blend into the classroom of around 100 students, opting to sit right at the back behind the projector. She was praying to whoever was listening that no one would find or even recognize that she was involved. Alas, no one must have listened to her prayers because not a second later, the closed doors banged open, and she meekly raised her head at the sudden intrusion.

That’s when she felt her blood run cold; she had eyes on her from everywhere. She played it cool and hoped that they were there for someone else. They were not. In a blink of an eye, rough hands were on her, dragging her away from where she sought shelter. No one around her even dared to raise their heads in protest or curiosity. She was doomed. No amount of screaming or crying seemed to affect the men who held her in a tight, bruising grip. It was almost as if fate was trying to mock her and give her the slight chance to run away. A guard slipped up and accidentally let his grip on her falter.

She took the chance and ran as fast as she could, not bothering to check where she was running to. Her body hit something hard and muscular, her eyes quickly took in the person in front of her. If she thought her luck was horrible then, well, she was in for a hell of a ride now. In front of her stood her ex-best friend's brother, she had never met him in person, only seeing him in pictures she was shown. Max was handsome, tall, and had the most beautiful eyes; his eyes, however, currently showed nothing but anger and hate.

If she thought his guards were being rough, she had no words for his grip. "Where is she? I know you know where she is. Just tell me, and you can get yourself out of this, or else," or else what? she rebutted, an ugly snarl raised on his face, one that screamed don't provoke me. She really did not expect what he said next. A light chuckle left his mouth before his grip on her hardened even more. “You will take up her place,” meaning? she questioned before being pressed up against his hard chest. “You will be my prisoner, her freedom for yours.” Her eyes shuddered and tears automatically leaked from them. She would never have understood how or why the universe hated her so much, but to give up her own freedom for her friend seemed idiotic.

As she was being shoved into the car, she kept on uttering her defense and how she genuinely didn’t know what or where his sister was. It all fell on deaf ears. Her tears kept flowing; her direct thoughts were to jump off his car regardless of the consequences. But it was almost as if he could hear her thoughts and was two steps ahead and had locked them away before. Frustrated, overstimulated, and overall miserable, and drowning in her tears, she ended up fainting right as he stepped away from the car.

She laid there unconscious, almost as if she was dead; it was the unfortunate symbolism of her freedom dying away. She was rudely awakened by his firm grip on her face, shaking her awake. That invoked her nausea, urging her to rush towards a bathroom.

He must have seen that she had something wrong with her and let her go and run towards the bathroom, not before letting her know that there was no way out of here. After emptying out her stomach, she lay still on the cold bathroom tiles.

Only then did she realize that she had her phone on her and attempted to call her father; on the last ring, he had picked up, but while she shakily tried to let him know the situation, he simply ended the call, not before saying that this was the actions of her consequences. Her eyes yet once again watered up; she wasn’t giving the peace of crying alone as the bathroom stalls door was kicked open, revealing another guard who simply called his boss in to assess her situation.

He was annoyed with the amount of tears she was wasting; it was as if she was trying to make him feel bad for his decisions. He didn’t feel anything, unfortunately.

It wasn't long till they reached the mansion, and she was thrown towards what seemed like a herd of maids, each one of them having inquisitive looks on their faces.

From there, she was being dragged to what seemed like endless salon services, each of them making her eyebrows rise higher and higher. She went through everything from a hair pampering session to having her body waxed, all of which she didn't consent to.

After what seemed like ages, she was finally left alone in a rather large room, to finally sit and ponder at what was going on.

She was thankful on one hand for the opportunity of finally being alone but was concerned as to why her salon treatments seemed to be as though she was being prepped to become a bride. Her eyes once again watered at what her father had told her.

Here she was dying to somehow escape and reunite with her family, and yet her father simply didn't bother to even ask how she was doing. Everything seemed so messed up and painful, her perfectly manicured nails came up to tug her perfectly blow-dried hair. She felt suffocated and she didn't even know how long she was going to be his prisoner.

The thought of being far away from him did calm her down, but her being locked up in a room with nothing but a wardrobe seemed rather anxiety-inducing.

Just as she was getting comfortable with the silence and her thoughts, he walked in, loud and proud, his perfectly polished boots smacking the floor alerting her of his presence as if his cologne didn't do enough.

Max spoke rather quickly, but slowly but surely crashing her whole world down with each word. "Why are you looking at me like that? Did you not enjoy your salon services?" She shook her head, which resulted in him chuckling. "Why am I here?" She asked him. "Oh, you haven't figured out," he smirked. "I was under the impression that you were rather smart, but alas, we are to be wed," he stated, a statement that made her head feel heavy and light at the same time.

She was to be married to him, the monster who took her away just because his sister and left the same man who refused to listen to her justifications. She was to be married to that same man.

Her legs gave out, and she almost landed on the ground, his strong hands helping in breaking her fall.

"And listen, I like my women in red. Make sure you tell that to the maid when she takes you to the lingerie store."

with that, he left her to collapse and shrink away from his touch, something about even getting to the stage of him seeing her lingerie made her want to throw up.

She was stuck with no way out and with someone who had no idea of letting her go.

[krytus]

[deadlynightshade-and-hyacinth]

I’m Gonna Crawl

CHAPTER 7 

I left the bathroom, confident that I no longer needed to purge and plopped myself onto the lounge couch. A heavy stupor was dawning on me. I cringed at the thought of making a drunken fool of myself. This was not professional etiquette. ‘I should have stayed home and let Stewart take the job’, I reluctantly thought to myself. And then I thought of James. As much as I needed to pull myself back together after the massacre my life had become, I knew that sitting at home staring at the four walls of my bedroom would only harm me further. 

I felt a heavy stir in my stomach. As much as I wanted this silly game with James to end, I knew deep, deep down that I was enjoying it as much as he, if not more and it killed me that he knew it. In my chest the feather of a feeling, as much as I wanted it to be microscopic, was big and expanding vigorously the more James wriggled his way under my skin. 

I picked myself off the couch and found the bedroom. I fell onto the bed, groaning at my ridiculous pash and let myself slowly fall asleep.  

Yellow moonlight had loomed into the plane windows when I opened my eyelids. I left the bedroom and padded into the ‘club’, my head still swimming with the tiny amount of alcohol still swirling in, my blood stream. There was a dull throb in my head that I didn’t want to deal with once it got worse so I drudged behind the bar and found a bottle of Jimmy’s whisky. There was a quarter of it left so I decided to skip the glass and just drink from the bottle. 

 No one was around, the concert must have still been going so I took a swig from the bottle and sat at the organ and fingered the keys. 

I had been writing poems and songs since I was a young girl, it was calming, relaxing, my way of letting go of feelings and emotions I held deep within myself. No, I had never thought of trying to be someone, I never sought fame, never wanted it. Writing was purely a way to find peace within myself, to quiet the voices that so menacingly haunted my psyche.  

I started playing a song I had written almost a year ago when I knew who Daniel was but didn’t care. When I knew the abuse was deficient but accepted the love, I thought I deserved, thought I needed. I closed my eyes and felt the music flow through me. ‘Terrence Loves You’. When the cue came, I started singing. 

“You are what you are. 

I don’t matter to anyone 

But Hollywood legends 

Will never grow old 

And all of what’s hidden 

Well, it will never grow cold 

 But I lost myself when I lost you 

But I still got jazz 

When I’ve got those blues 

And I lost myself when I lost you 

And I still get trashed, darling 

When I hear your tunes 

 But you are who you are 

I won’t change you for anything 

For when you are crazy 

I’ll let you be bad 

I’ll never dare change thee 

To what you are not 

 But I lost myself when I lost you 

But I still got jazz 

When I’ve got those blues 

I lost myself and I lost you too 

And I still get trashed, baby 

When I hear your tunes 

I put the radio on 

 Hold you tight in my mind 

Isn’t strange that 

You’re not here with me 

But I know the light’s on in the television 

Trying to transmit, can you hear me 

Ground control to Major Tom 

Can you hear me all night long? 

Ground control to Major Tom 

Well I lost myself when I lost you 

 But I still got jazz when I’ve got the blues 

I lost myself and I lost you too 

And I still get trashed, honey 

When I hear your tunes 

 Mmmm mmm mmm 

Mmmm mmm mmm 

Mmmm mmm mmm 

Mmmm mmm mmm” 

There were three loud claps. I snapped my eyes open. Jimmy was standing at the edge of the room glowing, his hair a wet matted mess, black velvet suit clinging to his skin. I quickly stood up and stumbled into the piano. He strode over and held his hand out to help me but when I dismissed it, he jerked his hand back and frowned. 

“Where is everyone?” I asked, embarrassed. 

He grabbed the bottle of Jack and gulped the last of it down. “Back at the hotel.” He murmured nonchalantly as he padded behind the bar and grabbed another bottle. He found his way back to the piano and smiled. “Play it for me.” His eyes found mine. 

I breathed a small laugh and shook my head.

He rolled his eyes and shoved the bottle at me. “I missed you at the show tonight.” His tone was sarcastic. 

I glared which made him smile. I grabbed the bottle and took a swig of it. 

“Did you write that song?” He took the bottle back and copied me. 

“Mhmm.” I murmured, uninterested. 

“Do you have any more?” He raised an eyebrow, leaning on the organ in front of me. 

“When is everyone coming back?” I ignored his question. 

“Play something for me.” He held my gaze intently. 

I sat down on the bench, stunned under his hypnosis, unable to reject his gaze. He took quick solace in my ineptitude, in the fact that he could hold me in his gaze without faltering. 

He leaned across the organ and whispered. “Play.” 

I motioned for him to pass the bottle back over. He held it out, his long fingers stinging me as I clutched onto it. He pulled his hand away and watched me, amused. I took a deep breath and took as big a sip as I could manage. I swallowed, fire running down my throat then I tipped the bottle up again and repeated, the fire easing, flames coming to a halt and turning into warm liquid. Jimmy chuckled darkly and took the bottle back. “Before you drink me out of whisky.” He smiled. “Play.” He gave me a nod. 

I pressed my fingers to the keys and narrowed my eyes at him as I started. 

“Blue hydrangea, cold cash divine 

Cashmere, cologne and white sunshine 

Red racing cars, sunset and vine 

The kids were young and pretty 

Where have you been? 

Where did you go? 

Those summer nights seem long ago 

And so is the girl you used to call 

The queen of New York City 

  But if you send for me, you know I’ll come 

And if you call for me, you know I’ll run 

I’ll run to you, I’ll run to you 

I’ll run, run, run 

I’ll come to you, I’ll come to you 

I’ll come, come, come 

Oh-oh oh, oh-oh oh 

 The power of youth is on my mind 

Sunsets, small town, I’m out of time 

Will you still love me when I shine? 

From words but not from beauty 

My father’s love was always strong 

My mother’s glamour lives on and on 

Yet still inside, I felt alone 

For reasons unknown to me 

 But if you send for me, you know I’ll come 

And if you call for me, you know I’ll run 

I’ll run to you, I’ll run to you 

I’ll run, run, run 

I’ll come to you, I’ll come to you 

I’ll come, come, come 

Oh-oh oh, oh-oh oh 

And if you call, I’ll run, run, run 

If you change your mind, I’ll come, come, come 

Oh-oh oh, ah-ah ah 

 Blue hydrangea, cold cash divine 

Cashmere, cologne and hot sunshine 

Red racing cars, sunset and vine 

And we were young and pretty” 

He hadn’t taken his eyes off of me through the entirety of the song. He had a peculiar look on his face. “You have me entranced in your voice.” He admitted, his cheeks turning pink. “Little siren.” One side of his mouth turned upward into a crooked smile full of youth. 

I gave him a disapproving look as I stood up. 

“Sit.” He demanded; his eyes dark. 

I narrowed mine back at him. “I’m done.” 

 “I’m not.” His gaze burned intently. He took a swig, placed the bottle back on the bar, walked around the organ and sat on the bench beside me. “Show me the first one.” 

“Isn’t everyone going to be here soon?” My voice wavered with his close proximity, our shoulders and hips touching, the static and tension palpable. 

“No.” He breathed, facing forward. “Now the first one.” 

“Why is no one coming?” I turned my face to look at him. “Shouldn’t we be heading to Baltimore?” 

He sighed heavily, impatiently and turned his face to me, meeting my gaze. “Why must you defy me?” I gave him a look of querulousness. He rolled his eyes to the ceiling then back to mine. “They decided to stay at the hotel tonight. We don’t have a show tomorrow.” He looked at the clock on the wall then back to me. “Today.” He corrected me. 

“Then why are you here pestering me instead of some poor mindless victim?” 

“You’re far more intriguing.” He flashed his crooked grin. “I initially came to spring you, take you back to the hotel but you’ve distracted me. He looked at the keys and pressed down on one filling the quiet room with a loud chime. “Now I’m not sure if I want to leave.” He looked back at me. 

I looked away, afraid of the feeling rising in my chest.  

“Besides we have the place to ourselves.” He lifted a finger to my chin and forced me to meet his eyes. “A big jet plane with everything we need. Liquor, food, music… a bed.” His eyebrows jumped.  

“I was serious earlier when I said-” I started but he moved his finger from my chin to my lips, stopping me from finishing. 

“No, you weren’t.” He murmured; his grin cocky. “You wanted to be serious but you can’t get me out of your head, can you?” His smile was wicked. He could see my frustration building. “Calm, love, your secret is safe with me.” He winked. I stood up and headed toward the exit but he followed quickly and caught my hand at the threshold. I turned, annoyed, to face him. “Stay.” He breathed; his face somber. “I get it. You don’t want me… I’m fine with that, really… Can I at least have your company?” His eyes begged. “I was only playing.” He flashed wide puppy dog eyes. 

I pursed my lips, glaring at him. 

“Besides if we go back to the hotel, you’ll just be stuck in a smaller room with me.” He added, cocky and confident. 

“You’re incorrigible.” I pulled my hand from his and begrudgingly found my way back to the liquor. I turned to face him “You try anything again and I’ll castrate you.” 

That made him smile wider. “Okay, but you’ll have to kiss it first.” 

“I’m leaving.” I gave up. If he wasn’t going to be on his best behavior then I knew for damn sure I couldn’t be. 

“Come off it, I’m only joking.” He paused. “Half joking.” His face turned serious. “I’ll be good.” He held a hand to his heart. “I promise.” 

“You swear to me that you’ll keep your hands and your lips to yourself?” 

“I swear to you that these hands,” He held them up and closed the space between us. “And these lips…” He bit down on his lower lip and dragged his teeth across it. “Will not touch you…” His hypnosis was strong. “Unless you ask.” 

“You had to add that in there?” I raised my eyebrows at him. 

He shrugged, his lips twitching. “Because if you asked me to touch you, I wouldn’t be able to resist.” 

A feather dropped from my heart down to my stomach. “Is there a car outside for us?” 

 He made a face that indicated he had done something wrong. “I might have shooed them away for the night.” 

“You trapped me here with you?” I was astonished. I smacked his shoulder. “You are such an asshole.” 

“I thought if you decided you didn’t want to stay then I would leave you with no choice but to…” He tried to hide his smug smile, rubbing his arm absentmindedly. 

“If you break your promise,” I leaned in. “I will go into that airport and take the first plane back to Boston then you’ll be stuck with Stewart in my place.”  

“Stewart?” He muttered, his tone matching my distaste for my coworker.  

I nodded, big threats in my eyes. “Stewart.” 

“Yes, Ma’am.” He nodded, tucking his hands behind his back. 

*** I do NOT own any song mentioned in this chapter. They were written and performed by the beautiful Lana Del Rey ***

[northcountryprimitive]

“Solo Acoustic Guitar Stands Outside of Time.” An Interview With Dylan Golden Aycock

This interview originally appeared at North Country Primitive on 5th May 2015

Scissor Tail Editions of Tulsa Oklahoma is one of the most consistently interesting record labels around at the moment, with a series of excellent releases from amongst others, Sarah Louise, Scott Tuma, Nick Castell and, of course, the label’s founder and head honcho, Dylan Golden Aycock. His tune, Red Bud Valley, is featured on Tompkins Square’s recently released seventh volume of the ever-dependable Imaginational Anthems series and he continues to release new work in his various guises at an almost unreasonably prolific rate. North Country Primitive caught up with Dylan as he puts the finishing touches on the forthcoming solo follow up to Rise & Shine and as Scissor Tail gears up to put out new albums by Dibson T. Hoffweiler and Chuck Johnson.

Can you tell me a bit about your musical journey? What has brought you to a place where playing solo acoustic guitar seemed like a good idea? Living in Oklahoma as a kid in the pre-internet 90s, the only access to music I had was the radio and skate videos. I got really into hip hop through skate videos and also discovered groups like Tortoise, which I probably never would have encountered any other way. My dad and brother both play folk music and I guess hip hop was an involuntary rebellion on my part. My first instrument I saved up for was a turntable set up - I got way into turntablism and this competitive turntable stuff called beat juggling. It’s still probably the instrument I’m most comfortable on, but I haven’t turned them on in years. I picked up the guitar pretty late in the game, about the age of 24. Five years ago I bought my first guitar, a 12-string Alvarez. I got really obsessed with it, just as I did with turntablism and electronic music in my teens and early 20s. At that time I was just yearning for something simple and satisfying that I could play if the power grid ever went out. I also didn’t like the mental image of a 60-plus year old me behind a set of turntables. Hip hop and beat music is a young man’s game, and I didn’t really like keeping up with all the new shit coming out. If you want to be a professional DJ you have to be up on all the new stuff and I just really didn’t care about all that. I also quit around the time that CD turntables became the new standard and vinyl DJing was on its way out. What would you say are your main influences, musically or otherwise? Do you see yourself as part of the American Primitive tradition of solo guitar? I was really influenced by my older brother Jesse and some of the music he was listening to in his room when we lived together after high school. He turned me onto Bill Frisell and Daniel Lanois, which was a big influence on my interest in pedal steel guitar. My dad introduced me to some of my other favorite artists - Tom Waits, Bob Dylan, The Innocence Mission… I can’t downplay the role that discovering Peter Walker, Suni McGrath and Robbie Basho played in me taking the guitar seriously. At that time in my life it really spoke to me and was an acceptable way for a white kid from Oklahoma to sort of lean into Eastern Raga music. As far as the American Primitive thing goes, everyone wants to shun the title, because no one wants to be pigeonholed and I understand that, but there’s no avoiding it if you play instrumental acoustic guitar in open tunings, unless you’re Michael Hedges. You can’t be upset if listeners are drawing comparisons to Fahey, Basho and so on. I say just accept it and further the genre: it’s not like there’s a ton of people carrying the torch anyways. Norberto Lobo is one of my favorite guys playing acoustic guitar, and he’s one of the hardest to label. Same with Blackshaw, They’d both be a stretch to label as American Primitive. I think some of the stuff I record could definitely fit in that genre, but I also get pretty bored hearing just acoustic guitar compositions - a lot of it starts to blend together. Most of my recordings employ some kind of accompanying instrumentation, whether it be pedal steel, synth or some kind of bowed classical instruments. I’ll even take cues from my days making electronic music or hip hop and add samples to some of the guitar stuff. You seem to have been involved in about half-a-dozen different groups and collaborations, including Talk West who appear to have released about four albums in the past year or so! Do you see yourself as a collaborator who also makes solo recordings, vice-versa or neither of the above? Do the different approaches satisfy different musical urges for you or are they all part of a continuum? Living in Tulsa, there’s a limited number of collaborators that I can record with live who are into the same stuff as me. I’m definitely really happy with the recordings I’ve made here with friends, but I find myself recording alone way more often than in group setting. The Talk West project is a solo project, and I have a hard time calling those recorded moments songs, since such little thought goes into each one. It’s a real thoughtless and meditative project for me. It’s also nice to hide behind an alias where anything goes. Everything I’ve released as Talk West have been improvised, usually recorded to tape as one track, one take. I’ll sometimes edit or add sounds in post if I really like the initial recording, but the base is always improvisation. It’s definitely the most enjoyable project for me. Anything involving improvisation is going to be really satisfying. I did a couple of albums with Brad Rose that were really fun (Angel Food, Mohawk Park) - sort of drone projects - and I’ve contributed pedal steel to a handful of projects over the years (Mar, Robin Allender, M. Mucci). There’s some plans to collaborate on an album with James Toth of Wooden Wand and I’m doing a split with Tashi Dorji later this year that I’m really excited about. You released Rise & Shine on Scissor Tail, but your subsequent solo albums have been released by different labels.  Is this part of a conscious effort to separate yourself as a musician from yourself as a label owner? Or are you more prolific than you can afford to be?  Or do you just like spreading it around a bit? I like to spread it around. It’s validating to release on other labels with artists you respect and helps build connections and sense of community. Rise & Shine was a really personal album, recorded over a couple of weeks while my dad was in the hospital for a heart attack he had on Valentines Day 2011.The initial release was lathe cut on the 14 chest X-Rays from the surgery. The personal aspect of that album was my reasoning for self releasing. I never wanted Scissor Tail to become a vanity label, though I don’t judge anyone who self-releases on their own imprint, since in a lot of circumstances it’s the only way to make any money on an album unless you tour a lot or release on larger labels like Drag City or Thrill Jockey, who press in larger quantities and split the the profits generously with the artists. One of my favorite artists is a guy named Zach Hay, who has self released three LPs, each one under a different name. He turned me down on releasing his stuff and I also tried to see if he had any interest in being on that Imaginational Anthems compilation this year and he turned that down as well. I highly recommend checking out his albums: Bronze Horse, The Dove Azima, and Green Glass, which came out last year and I got to do the album artwork for the release. I really respect his artistic integrity and vision for each release, which is apparent on each album.

What made you decide to start your own label? Was it originally simply as a vehicle for your own releases or had you always intended to release stuff by other artists? The label started as a way to release various recordings my friends were making that they were sitting on or didn’t think were good enough to share. In Tulsa, I feel like a lot of the musicians in town hold themselves up to really high standards. Most the musicians around here take influence from the rock gods like Clapton and JJ Cale and overlook or just don’t know about all the folks who are making careers doing more original or experimental music. It’s a consequence of growing up cut off from any kind of underground scene and living in the radio bubble. My brother and some of our friends growing up would mess around with instruments and electronics for fun and the recordings would just end up buried on a hard drive somewhere. I felt they were really good and wanted to share them with people, so that was the initial motivation for starting the label. I have to give credit to Brad Rose, who runs Digitalis Recordings, for letting me hang out at his apartment and bug him with questions. Is there any particular label ethos or principle you work to? Not really, I just think labels should be transparent with where their funds go. The cost of production and so on. When it comes to tapes, I run Scissor Tail the same as every other tape label, where 20% of the stock goes to the artist. With vinyl, I’ve been doing 60/40 split with the artist - 60 to the artist, 40 to the label. I think the indie-industry standard is 50/50 profit split, which is what I’ve done with a couple of the more recent artists, who were kind enough to suggest that to me. Immune Records has a great ethos - as well as the labels I mentioned earlier, Drag City and Thrill Jockey. Am I right in thinking you proactively seek out the music you want to put out rather than responding to demos? It’s about half and half. Most of the tapes I put out came to me as demos, but a few of them were open invitations. The LPs on the label were mostly sought out. The only one that came in as a demo was this new album by Chuck Johnson that should be out in June. What are you looking for in an artist when you’re deciding what release? You’re building up  an impressive body of  work. Are there any releases you are particularly proud of? I’m interested in music that has a timeless feel, which is why a lot of the releases on Scissor Tail are guitar or drone related. Solo acoustic guitar, in my opinion, stands outside of time to a certain degree. If you were unfamiliar with Fahey, you could hear one of his albums and not know what decade within the last 60 years it was recorded. The same parameters don’t necessarily apply to drone music, because it’s generally electronic and that sort of limits the time frame when it could have been recorded, but it still has the same effect on the listener because of how minimal drone music tends to be. Gavin Bryars’ Sinking of the Titanic sounds as amazing today as it did in 1970 and will sound amazing when the sun burns out. Could you tell us a bit more about the Bruce Langhorne reissue? That release certainly put the label on the map. I just got lucky and wrote to him at the right time and offered him a really good deal. He’d been approached by a few labels to release it over the years, but I think it was just a timing thing or possibly the previous offers weren’t to his liking. The attention to packaging and presentation is consistently high, which for me at least, is an important aspect to running a label that puts out physical releases. Could you tell us a bit about your approach to this? Packaging and designing is my favorite part of running a label. If all I was doing were financially backing albums, I would have quit a long time ago. I really enjoy playing a creative role in each release, whether it be designing the artwork, doing the letterpress printing in my garage or seeking out other visual artists that fit the music. It’s really satisfying when it all clicks. There’s a lot of creative decision making that comes with running a label that keeps me constantly inspired. What’s the deal with cassettes? Do you just like the format or is it about cost and convenience for short-run releases? Is there anything consciously retro about using them? I love tapes! Everything about them. I love the nostalgia, the size, the sound, the fact that they make ripping music a pain in the ass. If you don’t offer downloads, someone has to spend a lot of time recording a tape to digital, separating the tracks, then bouncing them down and uploading them to the internet. It’s a whole process, and I just like the idea of manufacturing rarity, which I know is a bit controversial among the music community, but I’m all about it. Tapes are definitely also about cost: there are so many tapes I would have loved to put out on vinyl, but just didn’t have the funds. Also If you’ve ever been to a festival or music convention, people hand out CDs like business cards. In my opinion, it completely devalues the listening experience, where with tapes and vinyl, you have to sit down and take time to listen to. Can you tell us what you’re listening to at the moment? Any hot tips or recommendations? I’m listening to Kurt Vile a lot. I think he’s one of the best songwriters around. I also really love this album by Stephen Steinbrink that came out in 2013 called Arranged Waves. I’ve really been trying to seek out happier, less melancholy music lately. It seems to be hard to find outside of gospel, reggae, and traditional African music. I do listen to a lot of celtic music - Nic Jones, Andy M. Stewart, Dick Gaughan, Andy Irvine, Kevin Burke… I’m also pretty obsessed with anything Madlib puts out and another hip hop producer on Stones Throw, by the name of Knxwledge. Can I be a guitar nerd and ask you what you play and what you like about them? I lucked out three times via Craigslist and was able to acquire a 1949 Gibson LG2 in damn near mint condition for $350. I also play a 1921 Weissenborn Style 1 that I found on Craigslist in Florida. The guy who had it bought a storage unit on auction and there was a guitar inside that he knew very little about and so I snagged it from him for pretty much dirt cheap. My electric is a low end Mexican Tele. My pedal steel was a steal - haha - got it for $800 off a meth head in Tulsa who played in a cover band called Whisky Stills and Mash. It’s a 60s double neck Sho-Bud. I’m also fond of those lawsuit Suzuki guitars. What’s in store for you next - both in terms of your own music and Scissor Tail? I’m finishing a follow up to my first LP, Rise & Shine. It’s been in the works for the last two or three years. I also have those collaborations I mentioned earlier with Wooden Wand and Tashi Dorji. And then a lathe release with a bunch of other guitarists, Daniel Bachman, Tash and some other folks. That’ll be out on a really great label called Cabin Floor Esoterica probably later this year. A Talk West tape with Sic Sic out of Berlin in a couple weeks. As far as Scissor Tail goes, there’s quite a few things coming out this year. Chuck Johnson’s new LP called Blood Moon Boulder, which I’ve been busy letter pressing all the jackets for this last month. An album by another Oakland based guitarist and friend of Chuck - Dibson T Hoffweiler - that will be out May 7th. There’s a handful of tapes about to drop and an LP by Willamette that should be out in the Fall or Winter depending on how quickly we figure out the album art. Lotsa stuff brewin. Anything I should have asked you but didn’t? Nope, all bases covered. Thanks!

https://scissortail.bandcamp.com/

[enkisstories]

The android cemetery (Chapter 16)

“Good morning, Captain Allen”, Rika the receptionist android greeted the arrival.

Technically David wasn’t expected here this early today. But then again, neither had Captain Anderson, Lieutenant Reed and Officer Chen, yet they were already busy inside. It seemed as if everyone at the DPD had sacrificed their Saturday this week to report for duty instead. Since the exception had become the norm, there was an order to it now that pleased Rika. And who knew, maybe another one of the officers’ irregular parties was underfoot? Rika could not explain how, but her performance always increased after witnessing one of those.

David had just entered the corridor leading to the changing rooms when he heard agitated voices from the hall. Trusting his gut feeling the man made his way towards the argument’s source while still in his street clothes. And indeed there was Officer Wilson talking to the wretched RK800. Whatever the machine replied seemed to pacify Wilson. David, however, did not trust “The Negotiator”. Had the man harbored doubts about the android’s abilities at first, now, almost two years and who knew how many updates later, he was wary of Connor because it had grown far too competent with those words of its.

“What’s going on here?” the Captain demanded.

“Surveillance was briefly down”, Wilson replied. “And now there is activity in the evidence archive.”

“A-ha! I knew it!” David slammed his fist into the other hand’s open palm. “Whoever stole the PL600 wants to get out another android!”

“You mean there’s an android thief going ‘round?”

“That or new deviant activity.”

Wilson shook his head. “We are more worried about the confiscated Red Ice than about the dead androids, Sir. But as I told Connor here just now, it is just Lt. Reed and Officer Chen down in the basement. Not a burglar.”

“Oh. Right.”  David’s hands sacked down. Even if he personally didn’t make use of it, he was well aware of the activities people usually went into the archive for. “In this case turn the camera off again and leave them to their privacy.”

“As you say.” Wilson turned back to the computer to get a last glance on the action it recorded. The friends were already down on the floor, but still fully clothed. “No, wait, there’s something else!” Wilson exclaimed. “They are fiddling with android parts!”

“Are you sure?” Connor asked rather weakly. He couldn’t tell why he had spoken up at all, since the remark had been everything but helpful. But that was your deviant brain for you.

As expected David glared at Connor.

“I recognize an android when I see one”, the captain said. “Alive – or dead. And especially the one down there on the floor. It’s the first deviant we apprehended, the cop killer.”

At least this time Connor could keep himself in check. While he was still undecided what to do next, David grabbed him by his uniform jacket and dragged him towards the elevator.

“Didn’t Dean’s skin module break in Brindleton Bay?” the Captain asked while running. “Yumiko said as much.”

Connor had no means – or reason – to deny that, so he nodded. And therefore these were the words David Allen shouted at the pair in the archive: “Dean’s skin module broke, so you butchered the archived PL for a new one! And now you’ve come back for more parts! Don’t deny it!”

Gavin and Tina slowly backed away from a bundle they had been occupied with and rose from the floor. Tina was still holding half a left leg in her hands. As they were standing there both humans sought Connor’s eyes, but just like the day before the silent communication passed over David’s perceptions. For the same reason the captain also failed to notice the subtle shaking of the android’s head. He was busy shouting accusations at Reed and Chen anyway:

“Just to think that to cover up your theft you deleted the whole case file! You cheapskate! Your street rat! You… you…” David was sputtering now. The Chief should never have allowed Reed to sign on. That man was as stir-crazy as Connor was suspicious!

“Hey, hey… shift down a gear, mate”, Gavin interrupted the Captain. He took the leg off Tina and placed it back in a drawer. “At least the murderous butler is neatly dismantled now. Fucking thing won’t pose a threat to anybody ever again!”

David blinked.

“What do you mean by “dismantled”?”

Gavin kicked the bundle on the floor. It consisted of what David believed to be the missing PL600 under an asbestos blanket. Only the android hadn’t gone missing, after all. Detective Reed had just hidden it like a spider was wrapping up an insect, turning it into a cheap and easily accessible source of spare parts for Dean. That wasn’t just bold, that was stupid. But despite the sheer absurdity of the scene it was happening right here, in front of David Allen’s eyes and the RK800’s optical sensors.

“Come on, man, explain yourself!” David yelled at Gavin. “Not that I expect you to make much sense…”

Gavin shrugged.

“I sort of disemboweled the damn android while looking for biocomponents. I mean, I’m not an expert, so I spread the insides out on the floor to check what was what. The carcass was looking pretty bad afterwards. Messed up even worse than you and Connor had managed to make it.”

Both Tina and Gavin were glaring at the SWAT Captain with unveiled hatred now. But of course they would loath him, now that he had discovered their poaching, David thought. The man had no reason to believe in another cause for the glares than him having caught the pair red-handed.

“But these are the remains?” David asked, pointing at the blanket. “All of them?”

“Yep,” Gavin confirmed. “I got an urgent call to heed, so I shoved the parts under the nextbest asbestos blanket. Planned to put everything back together later, but forgot.”

That wasn’t an obvious lie. Much of it had really happened, only in a different order and for reasons even more weird than anything David had conjectured so far. That was the only consolation the trio standing down here with the Captain had: That the truth was so strange that no sane officer would consider it. The corners of Gavin’s mouth twitched and so did Connors. It wouldn’t have taken much now and they would have laughed out loud. But then they would have done so together and that just didn’t feel right.

Captain Allen walked towards Gavin. Towering over the smaller man the SWAT Captain bellowed: “You like coffee, don’t you? I hope that love is strong and true, because by the end of the month you will stand behind the counter at a Starbucks! If you’re lucky, that is!”

Under the Captain’s watchful eye the other three had to put up the android again. David found that he enjoyed this a lot. Tina Chen… well, she existed, even if she sometimes appeared to not be aware of that herself. Displays of power towards this gal were not satisfying at all. But the weasel that was Lieutenant Reed had scored too many verbal and actual victories against David since 2032 and the RK was just a general nuisance, always so confident and with that enervating voice of its. To finally put these two in their place and both of them at the same time, forcing them to work side-by-side, that was well worth having sacrificed his Saturday morning.

Gavin grabbed the PL600’s skull. He tossed it Connor’s way who was standing next to the locker.

“Have a little respect, at least!” the deviant snapped. “If this was a human skull…”

“…then I wouldn’t have tossed it like that”, Gavin agreed.

He walked over to the android and took the severed head out of Connor’s hands. Trying not to look too closely at the beloved face Gavin turned the skull around for Connor to look at the base.

“See, here? A human’s jaw is attached to the rest of the skull much more loosely than an android’s. So if I had a human head, in order to prevent the parts from dislodging in flight I would throw it like this…”

Gavin drew back and let fly. And on the head went towards Tina who caught it with ease.

“Don’t make assumptions about me, dipshit”, Gavin told Connor. “Least of all color me worse - or better - than I am.” He pricked Connor’s chest with his finger. “You don’t know me!”

The android nodded.

“High time we change that, then”, he agreed to an offer that had never been made.

But then there was no more time to waste trash-talking each other. Already Captain Allen grew impatient, so the trio made haste to put the corpse’s pieces back together. Moving a body that looked so much like their friend’s while the Captain was sneering at them... it was almost enough to make them believe they were friends not just with Daniel, but with each other, too.

[powertothefan]

A Knight’s Duty

I really enjoy Daniel, a character that belongs to @zommbro

I was learning more about him from the wonderful artist and realized that he would make a very interesting connection with my character Annabelle. So, I decided to write something! I’ve tweaked Annabelle to fit into a medieval setting as she originally was made for the 1800′s. It was fun though, playing around with this concept. I just might write more! For the time being though, please enjoy this small introduction piece. It’s probably very similar to another one that I did for another character, but I felt that this sort of introduction fit both character’s the best.

Enjoy!

It was dark, the road only lit by the torch Daniel carried in his hand. It barely did anything though, as the fog was far too heavy to see much farther than a few feet before him. Usually he didn’t like going out in such ill fated weather, preferring to be inside enjoying the company of his fellow knights and good conversation. However, something was driving him this evening. He had been sought out by a local merchant, whom seemed almost panicked as he tried to explain his concern.

 It seemed that several travelers had seen a being lurking in the old castle to the south. The place had been abandoned after a terrible accident long ago and was left to rot away into the ground beneath it. The merchant didn’t seemed to know much on what had gone on long ago, but he knew that many lives had been lost in the once grand hall. The locals feared that someone was attempting to raise the long dead. They weren’t sure why, but none of them liked the idea of an army of the undead marching into their small village which was only a day’s walk away. At the merchant’s request, Daniel agreed to go and examine the castle himself and see what was really going on. He doubted it was as bad as the locals feared. More than likely a homeless soul was merely seeking refuge in the one place no one would make them leave.

 So he trekked on his way, walking through the fog on a rather simple and quite mission. Though most knights find such tasks to be pointless, he would do anything to settle the hearts and minds of the people he swore to protect. He had been traveling for two days, only now arriving at the old castle that evening. It seemed the fog had no intention of lightening up, circling around the grounds as if it was trying to side something. He took cautious steps towards the worn stone building, glancing around as he kept an eye out for the mysterious figure the merchant had spoken of.

 It seemed that the castle grounds had fallen into quite a mess, though were once lovely and rich with life.  The dirt crunched beneath his feet as he looked out for the supposed individual lurking about the rubble. His other hand lingered on the hilt of his sword, just in case it wasn’t just some poor squatter. He approached the large wooden doors, pushing one open with his arm as to not be caught off guard. It was pitch black inside, but the light of the torch illuminated the empty hall. There were tables flipped and scattered about in a mess, along with other such things worn from time. Tattered tapestries hung on the dusty walls, swaying in the wind that slipped through the door after him.

 Daniel stepped inside, leaving the door behind him as to not drag too much attention to his arrival. If this person was hostile, which he deeply doubted, he didn’t want them to know he was there just yet. Better to catch the figure by surprise and make the battle quick, then allow him time to possible raise battle ready undead to their aid. It was that thought that brought a small laugh from him, as he realized he was probably thinking a bit too much into it. The castle, as much as the lore of it was unknown and bleak, had been left alone since the very day of its tragedy. If someone wanted to build an army, they certainly wouldn’t find much in this place. They could find better targets on an old battle field, or even a graveyard. So, the only realistic option was a poor soul, either lost or too poor to afford proper shelter. He’d tell them who he was, offer his assistance to take them back to the village and put to rest what could only be a very silly rumor.

 As he stepped in deeper into the halls, he was starting to notice that whatever had happened there had happened on a grand scale. Long lasting stains of what he could only assume to have been blood spattered the walls, almost as if was burned into it. There were no bones though, hinting that someone had either taken the bodies to bury them, or so he could only hope. He suddenly felt a bit of a chill run up his spine; the thought finally settling in that he was walking in what was probably a horrific murder of dozens, maybe more. That pushed him on to wonder why anyone would stay in such a place. The idea alone almost made his stomach flip. Thankfully, his service as a knight had hardened his resolve. Back when he was younger though, he could imagine himself getting quite sick. Shaking his head to remove the thoughts from it, he hurried on his way out of the great hall and off into the living quarters, or so he hoped. Each door was slowly opened, and then closed, the rooms checked for any sign of life before he continued on. There was nothing though, no sign that anyone had taken up place in the dingy and dark halls.

 It was at this point, he was honestly thinking of leaving, telling the merchant that he had seen nothing at all. He doubted that would be what he would want to hear, but if there was no one to even find there wasn’t much he could do. Just as he was about to turn away, a rather strange sound started to drift to his ears. He couldn’t make it out a first, it sounded low and weak. He started to follow it though, the closer he got the sound growing louder and harmonic. The sound, which he determined to be an organ, led him deeper into the castle, down stairs into a place were not even the moonlight could reach. Only his torch lit his way now, guiding him closer and closer to the music.

 Though his heart was racing he found himself swooned by the music, it was dramatic and powerful, like the kind that rang about the large cathedrals. It almost made him stop, just so he could listen to the song with all his focus. Sadly, he did not have the luxury to pause, now knowing that he was not as alone as he once believed. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he had arrived in a small room, a door opposite the stairs cracked open. Light poured from it, hinting that he had finally found who he was looking for. Pushing himself against the wall, he didn’t dare just run in. He learned the hard way that rushing was not always the best choice. Glancing around the edge of the door frame, what he looked upon was both surprising and upsetting.

 The room was illuminated carefully, several touches all placed in holders. Of all the rooms, this one seemed to have been up kept. Swept and clean, there wasn’t any sigh of wear like the floors above. At the far end of the room there was an organ, in sparkling condition. There wasn’t a single sign of age, almost as if it was new. The part that upset him was that he wasn’t looking at some intimidating villain, but instead a child. It was a little girl, for he could see the veil that hung from her head. She was tiny as well, hinting that she wasn’t very old at all, from what he could see of her, he would have to guess that she might be 11 at the youngest. His heart clenched at the thought that a mere child was lingering in such a place. Still, there had to be reason and so he dared to step in, careful to remain as silent as possible.

 The music worked to his advantage, draining out the noise of his armor or his weapons. It was so loud now that it almost hurt his ears. It was lovely all the same and he had to pause at once point just to watch. It amazed him that such a young girl could play so magically, it was a talent that he could respect. From where he was standing he could see her face. She was pale, white as a sheet in face. Her clothing looked to be very nice, far nicer than he had ever had for himself. She even seemed to have a rather well made necklace, it bright shining silver and shaped like a heart. Maybe she had been of a good family once? It was hard to say. The young girl was consumed in the noise though, allowing him to approach even closer. However, it seemed that his good favor was running short. In his careful sneaking he had unknowingly let his sword sway into a candelabra, causing it to clang onto the floor and putting out the light of the candles.

 The sound jolted the girl from her stupor. She turned; a look of panic across her face. Daniel was startled, as black eyes with blue irises stared at him. The mere look caused him to pause, which seemed to allow the young woman to burst from the organ bench and dart for the door in a rush. Realizing he was letting the little girl run away.

 “Wait!” He called after her, regaining himself and dashing after her. He couldn’t allow a mere child to linger any longer in the filth of this castle. He’d be a monster if he did. He could hear the pattering of bare feet, meaning she was running around with nothing to protect her from the muck. As much as it struck a heartstring, he used it to his advantage, following the noise. She was fast, but small…She wouldn’t get very far.

 He was rather impressed she could navigate the halls in the dark, he still desperately needed the torch to see anywhere in front of him. Skipping steps, he rushed back up to follow her, doing what he could to catch up. He rushed, no longer caring as he pushed open doors, checking to see where she had gone. She kept rushing about, not lingering long in one place which made it difficult to figure out where she had been and where she was going. He was able to keep up though, as he soon followed her right back into the great hall. As he reentered the dim space, he looked around. There was not a single noise.

 Panting, he had leaned on his knees a moment to regain his breath. Running after her had not been a light exercise. While doing this, he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. He tensed, prepared to dash after the girl again if need be. Even if she fought him, he would not be letting her stay any longer. Standing up, he quietly stuck his torch into the ground, making sure to put it into a spot that would not show off his shadow and reveal his movement. He walked over to where he had seen the rustling, taking his time to be extra quiet. He could see the frayed edges of her dress peeking out from behind a turned over table, setting him on a direct course for her.

 As he got close though, he could hear soft sobbing. He must have scared her witless at his arrival. A wave of guilt hit him. In his rush to help her, he had not thought that maybe she was hiding in this dark and dank place for a reason. Pausing a few feet from where she was hidden, he knelt on one knee gently. “I know you’re there.” He spoke, his tone soft and even.

 The sobbing stopped with a gasp, instantly silenced. She made no move to run this time though; it seemed that he had cornered her well. He didn’t say anything right away, allowing her a moment before speaking again. “It’s okay…I’m not going to hurt you.” Daniel did his best to try and speak softly, but he could tell that he had startled her more than she had startled him. She was a smart girl as well, as she didn’t dare trust him by his mere words. It seemed that he was going to make more of a show. As he had this thought his hand instinctively rested on the hilt of his sword once more, giving him an idea. Undoing his sword and scabbard from his waist, he took the weapon and tossed it towards her, making sure she could see it without it being too close.

 “That’s my sword, and my only weapon. You can take it if you feel you must. I swear on my honor I am not here to hurt you, child.”  

 There was silence; it seemed that the child was either ignoring him or had snuck away without him noticing. On the verge of standing up to go collect his sword, he stopped as the sound of rustling caught his attention. The girl and slipped out from behind the table slowly, hesitant as she walked over towards his weapon and picked it up, as if holding to her chest. She stood there for the longest time in silence, watching him from a distance as if debating if she should stay or run off with his one weapon. Daniel took this opportunity to speak.

 “You startled me when I arrived here. The villagers told me they saw someone, but they did not tell me it would be a child. Are you alright? Why are you hiding here?” He began to question her, trying to figure out what possessed the child to linger in a den of death. She did not speak, still watching her with those strangely colored eyes. It was almost as if she was a ghost herself, but she was too solid, too real to be among the dead. Just as he was about to move on to another topic, she spoke weakly, voice sounding dry and cracked.

 “I…Don’t have anywhere else to go.”

 Daniel dared to slip a bit closer, staying knelt on his knee. She seemed to clutch the sword tighter as he did this but she did not run, for some reason. Maybe she had gotten tired as well, she seemed rather weak from the sound of her voice. When had she last eater? Last drank? The concern started to bubble in his chest as he fought the urges to pull her along. Rushing her would not be wise, as she had already proven to be a difficult catch. No, he had to go about this as if he was feeding a frightened doe; he needed to gain her trust.

 “Are you hungry? When have you last eaten?” He asked, trying to think of what he could give her.

 “Don’t remember…” She murmured again.  

 “Here…” He shuffled around in the pack he had on his person, pulling out a small loaf of bread, He tore off a small piece and held it out to her. “Take this.”

 A spark of interest seemed to fill her face as she looked at the bread. It didn’t look like hunger though, more so awe at his offer. She dared a few steps of her own, keeping at arm’s length from him. She snatched up the piece and started to nibble slowly on it, her grip on the sword loosening significantly. The tension in her started to slip away, showing that the food was helping somehow. Daniel took the chance to move even closer, slipping up enough so he could reach out to her if need be.

 “Better?”

 She only stared at him, nodding her head slightly, her grip on the sword growing weaker each moment. It seemed she had been running on the barest of energy, alone and afraid for her life. Daniel felt his heart aching for the child, and he gently began to reach for the weapon that was starting to slip from her fingers.

 “Have you slept recently? Are you well?”

 More silence, only another nod.

 “Would you…like to come with me?” He asked, his hand grabbing softly onto the hilt. He didn’t pull the weapon from her yet, letting her think on his offer. “I came here because people worried something bad was happening. I’m glad that I can tell them nothing is wrong, but they might not believe me if I tell them it was only a little girl. Why don’t you come with me? If you’re there, then they’ll feel much better.”

 She seemed to ponder his offer for awhile, finishing off the small bit of bread he had shared while doing so. Patient, Daniel waited for her to reply. He was in no rush now other than to get her somewhere safe and warm and with a proper meal. Slowly, she let of the sword, allowing him to take full grip on it once more while slowly nodding her head. “I-I’ll go…”

 Daniel smiled widely, happy that he had been able to convince her to leave this place. It was no healthy for a girl like her to remain in this old castle on her own. He returned his scabbard back to his waist before slowly standing back up. Offering a hand to the young girl, Daniel watched while she took it slowly. Her hand was frail and small in his larger gloved one, his grip careful and soft. There was still hesitation on her part, but she did not resist as he began to walk along slowly towards his torch.

 “What’s your name, little one?” He asked, picking up his torch from the ground as they began to leave.

 There seemed to be a look of thoughtfulness on her face, but she did not pause too long before answering him.

 “Annabelle.”

 “Well Annabelle, why don’t you and I get somewhere nice and warm?”

 With that, Daniel led the little girl out into the evening, taking her away from the old castle and it’s mysteriously dark past.

[mythandritual]

"Solo Acoustic Guitar Stands Outside of Time." An Interview With Dylan Golden Aycock

This interview originally appeared at North Country Primitive on 5th May 2015

Scissor Tail Editions of Tulsa Oklahoma is one of the most consistently interesting record labels around at the moment, with a series of excellent releases from amongst others, Sarah Louise, Scott Tuma, Nick Castell and, of course, the label's founder and head honcho, Dylan Golden Aycock. His tune, Red Bud Valley, is featured on Tompkins Square's recently released seventh volume of the ever-dependable Imaginational Anthems series and he continues to release new work in his various guises at an almost unreasonably prolific rate. North Country Primitive caught up with Dylan as he puts the finishing touches on the forthcoming solo follow up to Rise & Shine and as Scissor Tail gears up to put out new albums by Dibson T. Hoffweiler and Chuck Johnson.

Can you tell me a bit about your musical journey? What has brought you to a place where playing solo acoustic guitar seemed like a good idea? Living in Oklahoma as a kid in the pre-internet 90s, the only access to music I had was the radio and skate videos. I got really into hip hop through skate videos and also discovered groups like Tortoise, which I probably never would have encountered any other way. My dad and brother both play folk music and I guess hip hop was an involuntary rebellion on my part. My first instrument I saved up for was a turntable set up - I got way into turntablism and this competitive turntable stuff called beat juggling. It's still probably the instrument I'm most comfortable on, but I haven't turned them on in years. I picked up the guitar pretty late in the game, about the age of 24. Five years ago I bought my first guitar, a 12-string Alvarez. I got really obsessed with it, just as I did with turntablism and electronic music in my teens and early 20s. At that time I was just yearning for something simple and satisfying that I could play if the power grid ever went out. I also didn't like the mental image of a 60-plus year old me behind a set of turntables. Hip hop and beat music is a young man's game, and I didn't really like keeping up with all the new shit coming out. If you want to be a professional DJ you have to be up on all the new stuff and I just really didn't care about all that. I also quit around the time that CD turntables became the new standard and vinyl DJing was on its way out. What would you say are your main influences, musically or otherwise? Do you see yourself as part of the American Primitive tradition of solo guitar? I was really influenced by my older brother Jesse and some of the music he was listening to in his room when we lived together after high school. He turned me onto Bill Frisell and Daniel Lanois, which was a big influence on my interest in pedal steel guitar. My dad introduced me to some of my other favorite artists - Tom Waits, Bob Dylan, The Innocence Mission... I can't downplay the role that discovering Peter Walker, Suni McGrath and Robbie Basho played in me taking the guitar seriously. At that time in my life it really spoke to me and was an acceptable way for a white kid from Oklahoma to sort of lean into Eastern Raga music. As far as the American Primitive thing goes, everyone wants to shun the title, because no one wants to be pigeonholed and I understand that, but there's no avoiding it if you play instrumental acoustic guitar in open tunings, unless you're Michael Hedges. You can't be upset if listeners are drawing comparisons to Fahey, Basho and so on. I say just accept it and further the genre: it's not like there's a ton of people carrying the torch anyways. Norberto Lobo is one of my favorite guys playing acoustic guitar, and he's one of the hardest to label. Same with Blackshaw, They'd both be a stretch to label as American Primitive. I think some of the stuff I record could definitely fit in that genre, but I also get pretty bored hearing just acoustic guitar compositions - a lot of it starts to blend together. Most of my recordings employ some kind of accompanying instrumentation, whether it be pedal steel, synth or some kind of bowed classical instruments. I'll even take cues from my days making electronic music or hip hop and add samples to some of the guitar stuff. You seem to have been involved in about half-a-dozen different groups and collaborations, including Talk West who appear to have released about four albums in the past year or so! Do you see yourself as a collaborator who also makes solo recordings, vice-versa or neither of the above? Do the different approaches satisfy different musical urges for you or are they all part of a continuum? Living in Tulsa, there's a limited number of collaborators that I can record with live who are into the same stuff as me. I'm definitely really happy with the recordings I've made here with friends, but I find myself recording alone way more often than in group setting. The Talk West project is a solo project, and I have a hard time calling those recorded moments songs, since such little thought goes into each one. It's a real thoughtless and meditative project for me. It's also nice to hide behind an alias where anything goes. Everything I've released as Talk West have been improvised, usually recorded to tape as one track, one take. I'll sometimes edit or add sounds in post if I really like the initial recording, but the base is always improvisation. It's definitely the most enjoyable project for me. Anything involving improvisation is going to be really satisfying. I did a couple of albums with Brad Rose that were really fun (Angel Food, Mohawk Park) - sort of drone projects - and I've contributed pedal steel to a handful of projects over the years (Mar, Robin Allender, M. Mucci). There's some plans to collaborate on an album with James Toth of Wooden Wand and I'm doing a split with Tashi Dorji later this year that I'm really excited about. You released Rise & Shine on Scissor Tail, but your subsequent solo albums have been released by different labels.  Is this part of a conscious effort to separate yourself as a musician from yourself as a label owner? Or are you more prolific than you can afford to be?  Or do you just like spreading it around a bit? I like to spread it around. It's validating to release on other labels with artists you respect and helps build connections and sense of community. Rise & Shine was a really personal album, recorded over a couple of weeks while my dad was in the hospital for a heart attack he had on Valentines Day 2011.The initial release was lathe cut on the 14 chest X-Rays from the surgery. The personal aspect of that album was my reasoning for self releasing. I never wanted Scissor Tail to become a vanity label, though I don't judge anyone who self-releases on their own imprint, since in a lot of circumstances it's the only way to make any money on an album unless you tour a lot or release on larger labels like Drag City or Thrill Jockey, who press in larger quantities and split the the profits generously with the artists. One of my favorite artists is a guy named Zach Hay, who has self released three LPs, each one under a different name. He turned me down on releasing his stuff and I also tried to see if he had any interest in being on that Imaginational Anthems compilation this year and he turned that down as well. I highly recommend checking out his albums: Bronze Horse, The Dove Azima, and Green Glass, which came out last year and I got to do the album artwork for the release. I really respect his artistic integrity and vision for each release, which is apparent on each album.

What made you decide to start your own label? Was it originally simply as a vehicle for your own releases or had you always intended to release stuff by other artists? The label started as a way to release various recordings my friends were making that they were sitting on or didn't think were good enough to share. In Tulsa, I feel like a lot of the musicians in town hold themselves up to really high standards. Most the musicians around here take influence from the rock gods like Clapton and JJ Cale and overlook or just don't know about all the folks who are making careers doing more original or experimental music. It's a consequence of growing up cut off from any kind of underground scene and living in the radio bubble. My brother and some of our friends growing up would mess around with instruments and electronics for fun and the recordings would just end up buried on a hard drive somewhere. I felt they were really good and wanted to share them with people, so that was the initial motivation for starting the label. I have to give credit to Brad Rose, who runs Digitalis Recordings, for letting me hang out at his apartment and bug him with questions. Is there any particular label ethos or principle you work to? Not really, I just think labels should be transparent with where their funds go. The cost of production and so on. When it comes to tapes, I run Scissor Tail the same as every other tape label, where 20% of the stock goes to the artist. With vinyl, I've been doing 60/40 split with the artist - 60 to the artist, 40 to the label. I think the indie-industry standard is 50/50 profit split, which is what I've done with a couple of the more recent artists, who were kind enough to suggest that to me. Immune Records has a great ethos - as well as the labels I mentioned earlier, Drag City and Thrill Jockey. Am I right in thinking you proactively seek out the music you want to put out rather than responding to demos? It's about half and half. Most of the tapes I put out came to me as demos, but a few of them were open invitations. The LPs on the label were mostly sought out. The only one that came in as a demo was this new album by Chuck Johnson that should be out in June. What are you looking for in an artist when you're deciding what release? You're building up  an impressive body of  work. Are there any releases you are particularly proud of? I'm interested in music that has a timeless feel, which is why a lot of the releases on Scissor Tail are guitar or drone related. Solo acoustic guitar, in my opinion, stands outside of time to a certain degree. If you were unfamiliar with Fahey, you could hear one of his albums and not know what decade within the last 60 years it was recorded. The same parameters don't necessarily apply to drone music, because it's generally electronic and that sort of limits the time frame when it could have been recorded, but it still has the same effect on the listener because of how minimal drone music tends to be. Gavin Bryars' Sinking of the Titanic sounds as amazing today as it did in 1970 and will sound amazing when the sun burns out. Could you tell us a bit more about the Bruce Langhorne reissue? That release certainly put the label on the map. I just got lucky and wrote to him at the right time and offered him a really good deal. He'd been approached by a few labels to release it over the years, but I think it was just a timing thing or possibly the previous offers weren't to his liking. The attention to packaging and presentation is consistently high, which for me at least, is an important aspect to running a label that puts out physical releases. Could you tell us a bit about your approach to this? Packaging and designing is my favorite part of running a label. If all I was doing were financially backing albums, I would have quit a long time ago. I really enjoy playing a creative role in each release, whether it be designing the artwork, doing the letterpress printing in my garage or seeking out other visual artists that fit the music. It's really satisfying when it all clicks. There's a lot of creative decision making that comes with running a label that keeps me constantly inspired. What's the deal with cassettes? Do you just like the format or is it about cost and convenience for short-run releases? Is there anything consciously retro about using them? I love tapes! Everything about them. I love the nostalgia, the size, the sound, the fact that they make ripping music a pain in the ass. If you don't offer downloads, someone has to spend a lot of time recording a tape to digital, separating the tracks, then bouncing them down and uploading them to the internet. It's a whole process, and I just like the idea of manufacturing rarity, which I know is a bit controversial among the music community, but I'm all about it. Tapes are definitely also about cost: there are so many tapes I would have loved to put out on vinyl, but just didn't have the funds. Also If you've ever been to a festival or music convention, people hand out CDs like business cards. In my opinion, it completely devalues the listening experience, where with tapes and vinyl, you have to sit down and take time to listen to. Can you tell us what you're listening to at the moment? Any hot tips or recommendations? I'm listening to Kurt Vile a lot. I think he's one of the best songwriters around. I also really love this album by Stephen Steinbrink that came out in 2013 called Arranged Waves. I've really been trying to seek out happier, less melancholy music lately. It seems to be hard to find outside of gospel, reggae, and traditional African music. I do listen to a lot of celtic music - Nic Jones, Andy M. Stewart, Dick Gaughan, Andy Irvine, Kevin Burke… I'm also pretty obsessed with anything Madlib puts out and another hip hop producer on Stones Throw, by the name of Knxwledge. Can I be a guitar nerd and ask you what you play and what you like about them? I lucked out three times via Craigslist and was able to acquire a 1949 Gibson LG2 in damn near mint condition for $350. I also play a 1921 Weissenborn Style 1 that I found on Craigslist in Florida. The guy who had it bought a storage unit on auction and there was a guitar inside that he knew very little about and so I snagged it from him for pretty much dirt cheap. My electric is a low end Mexican Tele. My pedal steel was a steal - haha - got it for $800 off a meth head in Tulsa who played in a cover band called Whisky Stills and Mash. It's a 60s double neck Sho-Bud. I'm also fond of those lawsuit Suzuki guitars. What's in store for you next - both in terms of your own music and Scissor Tail? I'm finishing a follow up to my first LP, Rise & Shine. It's been in the works for the last two or three years. I also have those collaborations I mentioned earlier with Wooden Wand and Tashi Dorji. And then a lathe release with a bunch of other guitarists, Daniel Bachman, Tash and some other folks. That'll be out on a really great label called Cabin Floor Esoterica probably later this year. A Talk West tape with Sic Sic out of Berlin in a couple weeks. As far as Scissor Tail goes, there's quite a few things coming out this year. Chuck Johnson's new LP called Blood Moon Boulder, which I've been busy letter pressing all the jackets for this last month. An album by another Oakland based guitarist and friend of Chuck - Dibson T Hoffweiler - that will be out May 7th. There's a handful of tapes about to drop and an LP by Willamette that should be out in the Fall or Winter depending on how quickly we figure out the album art. Lotsa stuff brewin. Anything I should have asked you but didn't? Nope, all bases covered. Thanks!