Silly pet videos: The best content available for Valentine’s Day

Hey, Matty,

Your Mediocre Gatsby piece was perfect for the controversy seizing Duluth over the school district’s decision to eliminate two books from its curriculum. I have thoughts on the subject myself, and I’ve even written a song about it. Hold on to that thought for a later post.

In the meantime, I wanted to write about a song I just posted on Bandcamp: Pet Videos. I’m pushing forward with this one for a few reasons:

  1. I’ve been sitting on this song for a couple months, and I really wanted to get it out there.
  2. It’s about goofy relationships, so it’s timely and relevant to the Valentine’s Day season if I get this out tonight.
  3. Since it’s a Valentine’s Day thing, and I can relate it to my courtship (note awkward and archaic use of the word “courtship”) of Yuo, I’ll get credit from her for posting something nostalgic and romantic about us.
  4. It’s probably the most whimsical song I’ve ever written, so I think it’s a great opener for me.

Not sure if this was on your mind at the time, since you were busy being a rock star, but I was working for a small daily newspaper in Stillwater when Yuo and I met. I loved this job and hated it. I loved the work, the role I played in documenting the history of a community and seeing my name in print every day.

The job challenged me too. I barely made rent on my wage, the deadlines never ceased, and I sat on the bad end of many difficult conversations with angry readers who had a lot to say about my work, even before the concept of Fake News and all of the vitriol surrounding it was a thing.

The worst part about the job, though, was the drive. I lived in Uptown and had to drive nearly an hour to Stillwater and back. Due to late meetings, I ended up sleeping on the office couch a few nights a week.

This is where Yuo comes in. Anybody who’s ever spent time around me and Yuo would agree that we have an odd relationship. Our conversations are usually pretty goofy and honest, and most people wouldn’t understand them.

This unconventional element of our relationship began during those days when I worked in Stillwater and spent a lot of late hours with her on the phone with all the lights off in the building. I’m not sure why it ended up this way, but I called her on several occasions really late at night while watching Animal Planet. The animals reminded me of her for some reason, I told her. Very romantic, I know.

It worked, though. We sat on the phone for hours. I was always happy to hear her voice before I fell asleep, with images of lions and sharks glowing in the dark office and the AP server humming behind my head.

Pet Videos is an exploration of what I imagine a budding relationship like ours must be like today. There’s so much more crazy stuff to share, and so many different ways to share it with each other remotely. Even from a distance, young lovers or friends can stay really close with all of the resources we have available to us. Of course, a lot of people use these resources improperly, but social media and electronic communications can be used for good as well. And my very favorite social media content, silly pet videos, is a perfect example of how media can be used well. If we just stuck to this stuff on social media, we’d all be better off.

I wrote and sang this song on a mandolin, which I bought two months ago. I honestly haven’t learned to play it very well, because I just made this song up right away and keep playing it over and over again. Maybe I’ll move on to learning something new, now that I’ve released it.

Please note that I’m also including my lyrics, but as images. I figured you’d have fun trying to read my notoriously bad handwriting.







The Mediocre Gatsby banned in Duluth



Dear John Francis,

Needless to say, I was scandalized when, in your zeal to talk about the issue burning in Duluth, you failed to realize that I was talking business when I posited that I had already composed and chosen my song for this, the first contribution to the Duluth Experiment, and perhaps did not even register that I was talking about something other than the actual book by our fellow Minnesotan, F. Scott Fitzgerald. (*see text exchange below.) Okay, scandalized is too strong a word. I was more like “whoa bro.” But anywho, let me talk about the song a bit.

This cut presents a fictional account of some fake bands that I was in before Faux Jean—before Whippoorwill and XYZ, even. I did the first improv of this song on September 7, 2017, as a voice memo on my iPhone, and then started putzing around with it in Garageband a week later. I have been on a wild DADGAD trip for a while now. I proudly name check all of these Twin Cities artists in this song:

  1. Fixed Gears are for Jerks and Lesbians
  2. The Replacements
  3. Hüsker Dü
  4. Prince
  5. The Blue Up?
  6. Steel Shank
  7. Velma
  8. Chromaphase
  9. The Spectors
  10. Trip Shakespeare
  11. The Hang Ups
  12. Rex Daisy
  13. The Wonsers
  14. Chatty Cathy Cathcart and the Catheter Catharsis
  15. The Mediocre Gatsby

These are the lyrics:

  1. My first band, 
    We weren’t bad
    We were not trying to reinvent the wheel
    We just wanted to make music
    That was fun to dance to
    At parties in basements, in garages
    That was fun to dance to
    And we called ourselves the Mediocre Gatsby
    And we had our own theme song
    And it went just like this:
  2. The Mediocre Gatsby is coming to your town
    That’s right!
    The Mediocre Gatsby is living in your home town!
  3. That’s how our theme song went!
  4. And my next band, we were called
    Chatty Cathy Cathcart and the Catheter Catharsis
    We were pretty good
    We played around
    We played some parties
    And in the the Clown Lounge
    And people danced and they cheered
    In the Clown Lounge it felt weird
    (in a good way)
  5. But Chatty Cathy Cathcart and the Catheter Catharsis
    Had to die, just like all bands must die
    Like Fixed Gears are for Jerks and Lesbians
    The ‘Mats and Hüsker Dü and Prince too
    And The Blue Up? And Steel Shank
    And Velma and Chromaphase
    And The Spectors (and Trip Shakespeare)
    And The Hang Ups (and Rex Daisy)
    And The Wonsers
    It is time, to repeat the theme song, of my first band:
  6. The Mediocre Gatsby is coming to your town
    That’s right!
    The Mediocre Gatsby is living in your home town!
  7. Mediocre Gatsby!


So I got this far in tracking the song, and then I accidentally deleted the main file while hastily clearing out space on my hard drive to back up a freelance job that I have since completed. I’d made a few rough mixes of the tune over the next few fortnights, just to check levels, etc. And so the version that I uploaded to Bandcamp was one of these rough mixes, titled:

Mediocre Gatsby 11 9 test low master.wav

I exported it on November 9, testing it at a low output, to the end of putting it into Adobe Audition and screwing with the levels and EQ, but I did not get that far. This is just a direct export out of Garageband… I think. In future, I will be more careful.

The mediocrity that I am singing about has to do with ambition. It seems to me a lot of folks do not realize that ambition has negative connotations. In my case, it involved a burning desire to express my creativity on a public stage without having fully formed ideas to express. The first time I remember doing this was when I moved to Germany after college and busked on the streets there. I was fully in my Fabio Phase. One day, I went out to play guitar for an hour on the street and ended up playing “Sympathy for the Devil” for the entire hour, since nobody stopped to listen and it seemed like I could get away with it. At around the 55 minute mark, a plainclothes police officer shooed me away without a ticket— I was 25 Deutschmarks richer. (This was 1991.)

When I got home that evening to the communal Student Apartment where I lived, my Irish neighbor Dara approached and sang at me: “Matty, you cannot play “Sympathy for the Devil” for an entire hour like that! Therése and I were working in an office above where you played in the street today—with the windows opened— and we just about lost our minds listening to your “woo-hoos!” We know ya got other songs.”  I had exposed them to raw mediocrity, and it pained them.

matty and dara
Fabio Phase Matty and Dara from County Carlow.

A second mediocrity came about when my first Minneapolis group, Whippoorwill, disbanded. I immediately formed a new group, Steel Shank, and somehow managed to land a gig at the Uptown Bar before we had any songs to speak of. We had riffs and jams and snippets up the wazoo, but no real songs. Luckily, we had a nervous, youthful energy which helped us pull off this gig without offending anyone with our mediocrity.

Eventually, we got better. Matt Wilson of Trip Shakespeare took us under his wing and produced our first and only EP, Let The Bidding War Begin, which was then released on Washington DC label, BrittleStars, which was run by Will Eastman, former Whippoorwill member and current owner of the U Street Music Hall in DC.  That process made us better than mediocre.

old u shank outtake
Post Fabio Phase Matty at Old U in Duluth for a Steel Shank photo shoot, shot by Carmen Schindler. Blurry PAV in foreground.

As for the kerfluffle around Twain and Lee, I think it is fine to let some new voices in.



P.S. If you would like to listen to (and even consider purchasing this song), click >>> Mediocre.









* text exchange referred to in first paragraph.

  • This is a screenshot of the exchange where I informed John Francis that I had a song related to the Duluth Experiment already recorded (albeit a rough mix, but alas) and ready to go.