Vacation Diary #1
Sunday, August 10, 2025
Manuel Antonio, Costa Rica
Hello goobers, miscreants, and loitering hoods,
I’m starting a cool new journal in our studio in Manuel Antonio, after a fun walk to the beach, some chill time, body surfing, and a walk back to the pool to cool off. I am listening to TV Smith’s record Handwriting after reading a long appreciation of his music in Henry Rollins’ Stay Fanatic Volume 1. Rollins is an Advert/TV Smith fanatic. I knew very little about either going in, and I’m digging. I appreciate his raves and recommendations about music he loves, and the book is wall to wall with appreciation and enthusiasm. And it is a ”music criticism” free zone, thank god.
It feels good to be pleasantly tired and listening to new tunes I like. I can hear how this record was put together to be a compelling presentation of songs that can also be played solo. A not-boring acoustic performer making not-boring solo records with edge, no window-dressing allowed.
I am almost done with another complete listening run of my Bandcamp collection. It’s about 200 albums, EPs, and singles, and I’ve been adding to it since 2012. It takes a few months to get through it, since of course I listen to other things along the way. I made recent additions on the last Bandcamp Friday: Tex Perkins, Ed Cole, Ed Kuepper, Laughing Clowns, and Peter Wilde.
It’s fun how stuff pops out, like the random Chasm demo tape I got after seeing them at an in-store. It’s got some lurching My War feels to it, with apocalyptic urgency, not perfect, and not your average doom and hollerin’.
I wonder where they are, and whether they are still making music? Would I rather listen to this a couple times a year and revisit their story or listen to a Van Halen record? Definitely this. If you buy music from independents, and give it your time, it means more. I think kids get this more than folks think. The hardcore music heads want a cd or cassette or vinyl—a community-enhancing transaction to seal the deal. Even a download purchased for a personal collection. I’d like to think so anyway.
We watched an entertaining B movie on the plane yesterday: Under Paris. One of the funnest shark movies I’ve seen. Beautiful French actors trying to save Paris from a toothy eruption in the river, under the city, and in the catacombs. Good environmental message. The alpha shark is tracked early on, and grows to three times its normal size due to microplastics and climate change. Also learns to reproduce quickly without male shark involvement—a shark flick for ladies tired of convention. Let’s just say the triathlon starting in the Seine doesn’t go off without a hitch. And the greedy, egotistical mayor who refuses to listen to scientists and teen climate activists gets what’s coming to her.
Now I’m listening to The Adverts Cast of Thousands and it is nothing like I expected, and that’s good. Why expect anything?
