To whom it may interest, It's Wednesday evening, three days before we stick a pin in 2021, which has largely been a garbage year. My day-well-into-night job drudgery has been excessive over the course of the pandemic and its viral offshoots that keep Americans both stupid and sick. The professional imbalance of my life was significant enough this year that I didn't feel I could even come up with a good list of favorite listens for 2021. I did, however, contribute to this year's round-up for No Ripcord. It's worth a look . When the aforementioned pandemic was at its peak in 2020, live music was obviously not happening. So, when vaccination efforts began and some live venues began opening their doors back up this year, I was planning on getting back to writing concert reviews. It was naive of me to think I could that, understanding that my profession doesn't allow the phrase "after work" any gravity or consideration. And then Phawker , the Philly-based out...

To whom it may interest, Apologies for the absence. If you're reading this, I'm coming off of a series of 60-70 hour work weeks which haven't left much time for things like making dinner, washing dishes, being a present father and husband, or writing about music. This blog is always in the back of my mind, sort of whimpering pitifully in that "we don't talk anymore" manner of pleading. And when I do have those moments when I want to type a few words, run through my email and see what's new, dig for new sounds that might either brighten my hour or pique what little interest I may be able to conjure after a 14- or 16-hour work day, I'm too drained to come up with anything worth typing and my patience is worn too thinly to keep trying. All I can do is sit and maybe staring zombie-like into my phone while I await paralyzing exhaustion to envelope me so I can sleep.  Plus, I'm still working from home. As convenient as it's been to not have a commute...

So, I have a day job. I know, I know: It's difficult to imagine that the compensation I receive for dispensing my unique perspective on music for all of you to consume, cherish and wholeheartedly agree with isn't enough to keep my family fed, the house paid for and the lights forever aglow. Obviously, I don't get paid for this gig. As I'm sure you're all aware, Letters From A Tapehead is for me a labor of love. And, sometimes, that labor of love is difficult to maintain and keep current with content because…well, because life happens. I do try and provide content as worthwhile as anything you'll read in Pitchfork, Stereogum, Tiny Mix Tapes…etc. I may not always succeed, (or maybe I never succeed to this level as far as some of you are concerned), but I do my best to think and listen before I touch a keyboard. It's not uncommon for me to be up long past my bedtime on a work night wringing out the grey matter for whatever quality comment or I can captur...

Found an old sketchbook of mine.  This one holds much of my doodles, self-absorption, pondering and other such brain spew from my last year in high school till well into my sophomore year of college.  The stickers that adorn it reflect much of what I was listening to back then, including bands like NOFX and Rancid whose CDs I've since completely removed from my collection.  There's even a 311 quote scrawled on the outside pages that makes me want to cringe.  Inside is a ticket stub from my first Henry Rollins (autographed) spoken word gig along with a college newspaper article on the show, an assessment of an Oasis gig written on top of a sticker I picked up at the merch table and an illustration inspired by Fugazi 's "Waiting Room." The photo of Frank Zappa was a Xerox from the Weasels Ripped My Flesh CD that I taped to the cover.  On top I wrote the Joe's Garage quote: “Information is not knowledge. Knowledge is not wisdom. Wisdom is not truth. Truth...

To whom it may interest, Apologies for the lack of content recently.  I was either inundated with my 9-to-whenever, handling responsibilities at home or I was on vacation.  I promise to be active this week.  Much by way of music has found my inbox during my absence, so I will try and disseminate as much as possible.  Thanks as always for your readership.  Sincerely, Letters From A Tapehead

Excuse the inactivity.  I feel like I've been both tired and/or sick for a full month.  Currently, I'm on a regimen of throat lozenges, penicillin and soft foods while my throat recovers from whatever made it decide to be both red and painful.  Fevers and cold sweats aren't necessarily conducive to critical listening or written analysis.  Sleep deprivation doesn't help much, either.    I do, however, have reviews in the works and requests for promos out, so I hope to have some new material up soon.  I'm also in the process of pulling together a Mix Tape entry, (because I haven't written one of those in a while), and another No Ripcast should be out this week. If you missed the last one, you can find that here . Sincerely, Letters From A Tapehead

 ...the overwhelming period of quiet, I'm currently recuperating from an ailment transmitted to my entire family via some daycare dwelling devil's spawn.  Should be better enough to regain some traction next week.  The "Best Of" is in the works as are some last minute stragglers, plus I recently contributed to another installment of No Ripcord's No Ripcast , (but please try and ignore how inept I sound while navigating the English language). In the meantime, the incomparable Dave Brubeck has been forever silenced, a heavy loss and significant loss for American music.  His spirit and invention was felt across all genres, a transcendent icon whose contributions to jazz made him essential to music as an art form and all its varying means of expression.  Any music library remains incomplete without Time Out , whether you're a connoisseur of music or a dabbler.  Sincerely, Letters From A Tapehead