tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45474505461412069562024-03-19T14:30:34.834-07:00l i b r a n m a nkatie crutchfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09506406910302944806noreply@blogger.comBlogger108125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4547450546141206956.post-83473953572529816362011-07-15T10:20:00.001-07:002011-07-15T10:21:13.932-07:00tumblrI'm graduating to Tumblr! It isn't confusing to my brain anymore, I think I "get it" so follow me there! <a href="katiecrutchfield.tumblr.com">katiecrutchfield.tumblr.com</a>katie crutchfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09506406910302944806noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4547450546141206956.post-82277569560389762322011-07-07T21:43:00.001-07:002011-07-07T22:40:22.555-07:00waxahatchee-american weekenddelta queen's tumblr posted a link to download my new full length so go download! <a href="http://deltaqueenrecords.tumblr.com/post/7328865290/waxahatchee-american-weekend">http://deltaqueenrecords.tumblr.com/post/7328865290/waxahatchee-american-weekend</a><div><br /></div><div>here are the lyrics!</div><div><br /></div><div>catfish</div><div>crave, desolate, you dive in, we follow along</div><div>i contrive you with whiskey and sam cooke songs</div><div>and we lay on our backs, soaking wet</div><div>below a static tv set</div><div>conversation flows, counting shooting stars and catfish</div><div>but i'll never make a wish</div><div>barefoot, parking lot</div><div>getting high in portland, or</div><div>we echo 17 and we glue it back and poke fun</div><div>and it gets real quiet, i don't care</div><div>darting with moonshine, truth or dare</div><div>i say just what i'm thinking and secondguess instantly</div><div>and you laugh at me</div><div>we stick to our slow motion memory</div><div>its 1 in the morning and 90 degrees</div><div>and though now it is hovering darkly over me</div><div>it'll look just like heaven when i get up and leave</div><div>you're a ghost and i can't breathe</div><div><br /></div><div>grass stain</div><div>i don't care</div><div>i'll embrace all of my vices </div><div>and we'll black it out</div><div>or atleast slow everything down</div><div>and i'll fish for compliments</div><div>and i'll drink until i'm happy</div><div>and i'll wonder what you're doing but i won't call</div><div>our paths split</div><div>its morning but i still feel it</div><div>and we skate around</div><div>why our intemperance feels so profound</div><div>and i let you in real slow</div><div>and i regret it immediately</div><div>and i run away so fast, you fall too deep too easily</div><div>i don't care</div><div>if i'm too young to be unhappy</div><div>or i recklessly impair</div><div>this newfangled proclivity</div><div>and i won't answer my phone</div><div>and i'll never leave my bedroom</div><div>and i'll avoid you like the plague because i can't give you what you want</div><div>i won't give you what you want</div><div><br /></div><div>rose, 1956</div><div>sharp hangover, it is christmas eve</div><div>it fades and evaporates passing the trains and lakes and trees</div><div>your breaths are short and urgent and it is unsettling</div><div>you got married when you were 15</div><div>now i hide out from telephone wires at waxahatchee creek</div><div>your body, weak from smoke and tar and subsequent disease</div><div>you got married when you were 15</div><div>no miscalculation, each other's only living means</div><div>your arms wane thinner</div><div>your legs surrender</div><div>sunlight probing, it is christmas eve</div><div>no stitch of shade, we pass by lakes and big mimosa trees</div><div>your breaths are short and urgent and it is unsettling</div><div>you got married when you were 15</div><div><br /></div><div>american weekend</div><div>i watch these projections of us</div><div>you're magnetic and i cannot keep up</div><div>and i feel as you move in real close</div><div>and i feel as your head arose</div><div>you're a figment</div><div>i believed it</div><div>i depart, your dog died today</div><div>and you drive all the way here to tell me i'm okay</div><div>and i left and i didn't say goodbye</div><div>and i ran all the way home in the gray moonlight</div><div>it's dark now but we made it that way</div><div>with what we drink and how we think and what we say</div><div>we degrade ourselves</div><div>and then expect help</div><div>its morning, we're still in the same place</div><div>we are diluted, we are the only ones awake</div><div>and you hold me like you do it everyday</div><div>i chase a graceful way to erase or to run away</div><div>we diverge and i collapse into my bed</div><div>and you are shoved awkwardly into my head</div><div>wage sleep to sleep in</div><div>american weekend</div><div><br /></div><div>michel</div><div>hands under my clothes</div><div>we can't let it go</div><div>you set it up masterfully </div><div>and then blame it all on me</div><div>cynicism smothering</div><div>implanted, blossoming in me</div><div>our fun is toxic and bold</div><div>embellished and oversold</div><div>embody me</div><div>because i am weak</div><div>i moved out</div><div>but i never opened my mouth</div><div>i never opened my mouth</div><div>it's late, i'm up on the roof</div><div>in new york, i hung up on you</div><div>i can't pay for the mistakes i made</div><div>so i'll just let this die and decay</div><div><br /></div><div>be good</div><div>its unclear now, what we intend</div><div>we're alone in our own world</div><div>you don't wanna be my boyfriend</div><div>and i don't wanna be your girl</div><div>and that, that's a relief</div><div>we'll drink up our grief</div><div>and pine for summer</div><div>and we'll buy beer to shotgun</div><div>and we'll lay in the lawn</div><div>and we'll be good</div><div>now i'm laughing at my boredom</div><div>at my string of failed attempts</div><div>because you think that it's important</div><div>and i welcome the sentiment</div><div>and we talk on the phone at night</div><div>until its daylight</div><div>and i feel clever</div><div>and i hear the slow in your speech</div><div>yeah you're half asleep</div><div>say goodnight</div><div>now i've got friendships to mend</div><div>i'm selfishly dispossessed</div><div>you don't wanna be my boyfriend</div><div>and that's probably for the best</div><div>because that, that gets messy</div><div>and you will hurt me</div><div>or i'll disappear</div><div>so we will drink beer all day</div><div>and our guards will give way</div><div>and we'll be good</div><div><br /></div><div>luminary blake</div><div>full moon, we see our breath in a blue glow</div><div>i follow you to the bar in the snow</div><div>and then we roll around in your sheets</div><div>and watch our habits become a routine</div><div>and we'll fall asleep eventually</div><div>and i'll move away, forget today someday</div><div>meditate, i expand on the floor </div><div>floating in pennies and microphone cords </div><div>repeat mistakes, you're easy to erase</div><div>and i abstain, ideal falls in to place</div><div>but luck will fail</div><div>and others will pale</div><div>and i'll think of you</div><div>and i'll think i tried it</div><div>or i will deny it</div><div>but it's not true</div><div>no one reminds me</div><div>that better won't find me</div><div>and i won't learn</div><div>tiger tiger</div><div>i play with fire </div><div>and i get burned</div><div><br /></div><div>magic city wholesale</div><div>crowd stale, wholesale</div><div>we're on the porch and there's a keg and you are quiet</div><div>wind shifts, i drift</div><div>to autumn, i tell dom what i see</div><div>she laughs at me</div><div>blast beat, we retreat</div><div>and it's a lonely street, the burden of circumvention </div><div>but fractions like us</div><div>fill cities and flats and cul de sacs</div><div>so we yell over it and have a laugh</div><div>and its a laughable scenario</div><div>peripheral motion picture show</div><div>and i feel your eyes, and i stayed inside</div><div>but it wouldn't work so i soak up your vice</div><div>tonight's a blur</div><div>we meet</div><div>you scare me</div><div>see, i have met people from maine and athens, ga and montreal</div><div>and i'm dead, lips red</div><div>licking sugar, i smile at everyone</div><div>formulated fun</div><div><br /></div><div>bathtub</div><div>take my word for it, i'm not worth it</div><div>i ignored you all night and you don't deserve it</div><div>morning, bathtub, my skin soft and hot</div><div>i was sure you were right but you're not</div><div>i contemplate my ruined fate</div><div>someone will hurt me so bad one day</div><div>and you'll resonate or i'll apologize</div><div>or maybe i'll make the same mistake twice</div><div>i hide from phonecalls under the warm water</div><div>malice desists, no it woefully recurs</div><div>and it plays like daytime tv shows, i confuse you</div><div>and i tell you not to love me but i still kiss you when i want to</div><div>and i lament, you're innocent</div><div>but somehow the object of my discontent</div><div>and its fucked up, i let you in</div><div>even though i've seen what can happen</div><div>you make a tape, receive it in the mail</div><div>and i force myself busy, the diversion will prevail</div><div>and i will swallow all my guilt with little pills and forge my chin up</div><div>and i will only think about it in the morning, in the bathtub</div><div><br /></div><div>i think i love you</div><div>its late</div><div>we are not awake</div><div>and i smashed my phone</div><div>i am learning how to be alone</div><div>resoundingly unpretty girl stares back at me</div><div>and i become what everyone's harboring from</div><div>and is it your fault? </div><div>no i think it's my fault</div><div>we digress</div><div>you're inhaling smoke, emotionless</div><div>somewhere on a map</div><div>unaware that i am falling flat</div><div>and you will hurt me</div><div>and i deserve it</div><div>it's late</div><div>you are not awake</div><div>and it's nothing</div><div>i want you so bad it's devouring me</div><div>and i think i love you</div><div>but you'll never find out</div><div><br /></div><div>noccalula</div><div>we'll make it real loud</div><div>4 years, we'll barely speak</div><div>and you've got a husband now</div><div>i have waxahatchee creek</div><div>and you used to come here with me</div><div>i need a heavy heart</div><div>allison's only calling me when her life's falling apart</div><div>so i pour it tall and talk to myself in my head alone</div><div>but it's really better until i learn how</div><div>to gracefully let someone in and back out</div><div>but i won't worry about it right now</div><div>say what you're thinking, i'm watching thoughts dance around in your head</div><div>you'll let me down easy or you'll beg for my empathy</div><div>your lips are moving, your mouth is so close to mine</div><div>i almost can taste your spit, pilsner brew and cigarettes</div><div>if it keeps up we'll run out of time</div><div>i'll write you letters and i'll write you songs</div><div>and you will be endlessly distracting and then</div><div>it falls flat onto paper again</div><div>you're in the carolinas and i'm going to new york</div><div>and i'll be much better there</div><div>or that's what i'm hoping for</div><div>and we will never speak again</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>katie crutchfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09506406910302944806noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4547450546141206956.post-85665889237863559752011-07-03T19:18:00.000-07:002011-07-03T19:19:25.019-07:00hearts//blast beatsI don't want to give too much away...but I'm working on a hiphop project with my friend Marlee. And I'm pretty fucking into it.katie crutchfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09506406910302944806noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4547450546141206956.post-3718222715919082432011-07-01T09:50:00.000-07:002011-07-01T09:52:33.455-07:00Everybody wants something and I have nothing to give today. Lately when I see couples on the subway the first thing that pops into my head is that someday they're going to breakup. They seem so happy and in love and someday they're going to totally hurt each other. Isn't that terrible?katie crutchfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09506406910302944806noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4547450546141206956.post-90576177653568165672011-06-27T18:49:00.000-07:002011-06-27T19:46:34.209-07:00courtney love on the insideOnce upon a time I dated a boy that sang in a hardcore band that lived far away. Let's call them Ill At Sea (IAS for brevity) We saw each other for a few months and things just weren't working out for me. I realized this very abruptly at a time when he was visiting and we had a talk about it. It didn't go well. He got pretty upset about it and that made me feel pretty uncomfortable. After all, we only dated for a few months. I'd just gotten out of a long term relationship and I was feeling really dazed and disconcerted and I confused an inclination to be a part of a unit as adoration/infatuation/etc. My bad. It happens to most of us. A "rebound". I'd say that by age 25 in 2011 most everyone has been on both sides of this situation. I'm diverging from my point, forgive me. He started demanding that I call him to "talk about things", when in my mind I had said everything that needed to be said. He would text me constantly. Long and hateful messages would fill both my text message and email inboxes. He wrote to my sister. He wrote to my best friend. He insisted that multiple pieces of writing/songs I'd completed after we broke it off were about him when they weren't. He got every mutual friend we had involved and slandered my name left and right. He made me feel worse about myself than I've ever felt in my adult life. He said the most shamelessly malicious things I've ever heard anyone say to another person (after 4 months of knowing one another). I eventually had no choice but to completely cut him off. Deleted his number, blocked all emails, etc. I moved on, dated a few others, forgot about him to an extent. I wrote a piece on this very blog about my friend...lets call her Karen...and how she had just written a piece about sexism in the punk community. I wrote another one about my thoughts and experiences on sexism in the punk community. This boy...singer of IAS decided that he should chime in. He decided that as a white male in a hardcore community(a subcommunity of punk and hardcore that alienates women more than most) AND as a grad student or whatever he should point out flaws in my argument, invalidate my experiences and essentially jerk off with pedantic jargon for 6 paragraphs with a weak argument and embarrassingly obvious (to me) ulterior motives. Just when I started to feel like a dialogue about this issue was really opening up, my (sort of) exboyfriend decides that he's going to pop up and drag down all of these compelling and positive essays with an irrelevant circle jerk of bullshit. Pretty fucked up. Pretty fucked up, indeed. I wrote my friend who runs the blog to tell him why the singer of IAS's submission was upsetting to me and he was totally cool about it. Other contributors were cool about it too. But just the fact that my real life experiences that I turned into a positive exposition could be brushed aside so easily by a slighted, hyper-masculine weiner is unnerving. It's almost a natural example of what I've been saying all along, but that in itself is totally disheartening.katie crutchfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09506406910302944806noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4547450546141206956.post-68353740538194886922011-06-22T22:30:00.001-07:002011-06-22T22:30:24.065-07:00MORRISSEY MODEkatie crutchfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09506406910302944806noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4547450546141206956.post-31325181888721270342011-06-19T16:32:00.000-07:002011-06-19T16:34:02.319-07:00quietconcept of uninterrupted silence. i keep thinking about tripp's show that i missed last night. i keep thinking about how little sleep i'm running on. despite both of those things i feel really good. uninterrupted silence would be really nice though.katie crutchfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09506406910302944806noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4547450546141206956.post-18112447893633478262011-06-09T21:33:00.000-07:002011-06-09T21:40:27.888-07:00drunk and sad and listening to henry's dressi realized that there is a third king everything demo that i never posted. here it is if anyone cares: <a href="http://www.mediafire.com/?olv6gx3trpdogpf">http://www.mediafire.com/?0lv6gx3trpdogpf</a><br /><br />i don't play king everything songs anymore but i made a demo like a year ago and realized that i never did anything with it. enjoy.<br /><br />new york is good but i have no free time. i've written 1 song in 3 months. i really hope i get better at writing soon or i might have to move or quit writing songs.<br /><br />my love life is messy and boring and the more and more i open up to my friends about it the more and more i feel like a total asshole. my boss did call me "a human cupcake" though. that's good.katie crutchfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09506406910302944806noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4547450546141206956.post-91836172915020628772011-05-05T09:41:00.000-07:002011-05-05T10:05:11.563-07:00ra ra raIt seems as though the essay I wrote for I Live Sweat, and the two preceding mine by Lauren and Mariel have warranted quite a response. I just want to take the opportunity to say that I made a promise to myself when I wrote my piece that I had to feel confident about every single thing that I said. I wanted it to be completely sincere so that no matter what fucked up, lude, challenging or opposing comments were made, I wouldn't feel ganged up on and I wouldn't secondguess myself.<br /><br />I haven't read any of the comments on Punknews and I won't. The support I've gotten from my friends and from some strangers too have really made me feel like maybe people are going to start speaking out more about this issue. I have a lot of peers and close friends who always write/talk/act against sexism/homophobia and all other kinds of bigotry underlying in parts of our community. It seems like that pool of people is growing and I think that's so fucking cool. When I was younger I feel like I was always observing this indifference to safety in the scene and rather than articulating my reaction to that I just kept quiet. I encourage everyone to learn how to articulate their reactions in a positive way. Speak up, yo. People will have your back.<br /><br />Additionally, The Measure (SA) are playing one of their last shows EVER this weekend at Death By Audio in Brooklyn. My band Bad Banana is playing as well as our homies Big Eyes and Death First! Show's Saturday. Don't miss out.katie crutchfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09506406910302944806noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4547450546141206956.post-20868459036599353532011-05-04T10:04:00.000-07:002011-05-04T10:13:14.530-07:00THUNDER ONLY HAPPPENS WHEN ITS RAININGit would appear that I have neglected this blog. I haven't posted in some time and I attribute that oversight to all the changes in my life. I live in New York now and the New York version of myself is just like the New York version of anyone. Busy and stressed out. Don't get me wrong; I love living here. There isn't a moment of quiet or peace or fresh air but something about this city is so stimulating for right now. Maybe it's all the variety and the immediate acceptance of one another. No one stares at you, no one laughs or whispers or makes you feel like you're weird or any different from anybody else. I could be romanticizing. I grew up in a community where there was one way to be. Everyone busted their ass to essentially be as alike as they possibly could. I don't feel like it's like that here. It's really something.<br /><br />I've been feeling really unstable over the past couple of weeks for a number of reasons but I can feel myself doing things to trick myself out of it. Like sweeping. And avoiding alcohol. And not playing guitar because I know I can't write anything I'll like right now. I hope I can get my footing soon. Maybe it's something else to attribute to all the change.<br /><br />I wrote a piece for a blog called I Live Sweat. It's about sexism in the punk scene and you can find it here: <a href="http://ilivesweat.tumblr.com/post/5167151297/superfluous-stronghold-were-punk-but-we-aint-perfect">http://ilivesweat.tumblr.com/post/5167151297/superfluous-stronghold-were-punk-but-we-aint-perfect</a>katie crutchfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09506406910302944806noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4547450546141206956.post-25593104959239000662011-03-12T11:59:00.001-08:002011-03-12T12:00:16.914-08:00!!!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlk142rsjwI0RET8NBj3xl4E4BBD2pElp-Q_-US_pP18m62ztcJ2qGwehDjkkfqU341IWWFBIsaMVk7qcHVQZmLT5R6a7OnifG245XedCARw22XFDTGlUAUehcgLeLgk9_mU0pCoV5kVY/s1600/227.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 250px; height: 250px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlk142rsjwI0RET8NBj3xl4E4BBD2pElp-Q_-US_pP18m62ztcJ2qGwehDjkkfqU341IWWFBIsaMVk7qcHVQZmLT5R6a7OnifG245XedCARw22XFDTGlUAUehcgLeLgk9_mU0pCoV5kVY/s320/227.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583285733420108562" border="0" /></a>katie crutchfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09506406910302944806noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4547450546141206956.post-5583276281310292142011-03-08T08:30:00.000-08:002011-03-08T08:44:24.175-08:00new york 1/alabama 0I've been in New York for less than a week. It's been emotionally rambunctious but I would take that over lethargic. That's how I was starting to feel at home, not to sound angsty. I'm pretty sure I always sound angsty. I sort of have a job or 2, I have shows I'm really excited about coming up, I have good buddies, a shitty cafe I like with free refills and I've only fallen off my bike once AND I wasn't even drunk. I know that people say this so much that it holds little meaning but...things are really looking up.<br /><br />The show I'm most looking forward to is the International Girl Gang Underground zine release party. Bad Banana is playing as well as Aye Nako (swoon), Slingshot Dakota and American Sun. All the information about the amazing zine (I wrote a piece for it!) and the release party can by found <a href="http://girlgangunderground.org">here</a>katie crutchfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09506406910302944806noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4547450546141206956.post-88001216989351239322011-03-02T09:53:00.000-08:002011-03-02T10:02:04.675-08:00cry unclepeople have spoken to me about this song a lot lately. its really old and i have always been attached to the original version i recorded. i thought i'd share it.<br /><a href="http://www.mediafire.com/?orb3i5l5b23ozqa">http://www.mediafire.com/?orb3i5l5b23ozqa</a>katie crutchfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09506406910302944806noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4547450546141206956.post-63265835945640185822011-03-02T09:47:00.000-08:002011-03-02T09:53:30.010-08:00cancellationsMaybe my personal blog isn't the appropriate forum for this but it's kind of the only place on the internet I feel halfway comfortable writing anything personal. Hopefully the reasoning behind Bad Banana's cancellations at the end of our tour will circulate enough for SOME people to not think we're flaky jerks. I hate to cancel shows and I feel like P.S. Eliot has a bit of a reputation for doing just that (not typically my fault, though) so I want to address the reasoning. A really close friend of Allison and mine passed away and we canceled our show in New Orleans to come home to Birmingham and be with our friends. We came home last night after Gainesville to come to the funeral today which means we had to cancel in Athens. It was really shitty circumstances, really unexpected and we wanted to come say goodbye to our friend. We'll be sure to come back to NOLA and Athens really really soon.katie crutchfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09506406910302944806noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4547450546141206956.post-17552048289822308172011-02-27T21:39:00.000-08:002011-02-27T21:44:20.609-08:00negative creephave a running list of band names. i'm in tallahassee and i'm on cup 3 of st johns wort tea. really bad things happen and you feel tired always. coffee doesn't help. i do feel a little better today. it's the florida weather and the rootbeer. i realize this is incoherent.katie crutchfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09506406910302944806noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4547450546141206956.post-92181399927891635332011-02-25T18:28:00.000-08:002011-02-25T18:34:12.817-08:00rickyone time when i was living in tuscaloosa tripp talked me into buying mushrooms with him and then talked me into eating the whole bag with him on a school night. i freaked out and made everyone leave my room and only let anyone come in if all the lights were out and i could stay under my covers. i wrote a song about it. tripp won't ever hear it. there is so much i wish i could tell him and so many funny things i'd like to reminisce with him and i want to dance with him and hug him and tell him how much i love him. today fucking sucks. no one was just his acquaintance. everyone was his friend. sometimes you really don't know how much someone means to you until you can't tell them anymore.katie crutchfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09506406910302944806noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4547450546141206956.post-2635338131067028462011-02-23T07:21:00.000-08:002011-02-23T07:50:17.017-08:00i was so nervous, ridiculously nervousI realize I've neglected this thing since I left for tour. I'll attempt a halfass recap. I'm in Bloomington at my friend Toby's house drinking coffee and being on a computer for the first time since the last time. I was telling everyone as we were driving in to town yesterday evening how much I like playing college towns. We've pretty much stuck to playing big cities on this tour with a few exceptions and playing a small town really breaks up the monotony in a great way.<br /><br />Sourpatch left us a few nights ago to fly away to Europe and I must say that I haven't met and instantly connected with four people like that maybe ever in my life. I miss having them around and I certainly miss watching them play every night.<br /><br />Today we're driving to Chicago. The show tonight is possibly the most highly-anticipated show of the tour. Chicago is always really good to me and Allison and This Is My Fist is playing. I can't wait.<br /><br />Aside from tour stuff, we saw Marco a few nights ago and got the sleeves and inserts for "Sadie"-they look tight. I also got wind that the artwork to my new solo record is near finished as well. Projects!!<br /><br />Ramsey (our sweet roadie) is leaving us after tonight's show. Big bummer. She bought me a Justin Bieber activity book yesterday so that's been keeping us occupied. He's a Pisces. (of course)katie crutchfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09506406910302944806noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4547450546141206956.post-81462968752122527602011-02-13T08:10:00.000-08:002011-02-23T08:01:17.065-08:00start todayi know i have beaten this whole tour thing into the ground, but here are the dates with the venues and all that so you'll know where to find me for the next 3 weeks.<br /><br />february 13th: NEW BRUNSWICK, NJ @ mccormick's pub w/ backpocket, sparkle shit, crimes<br />february 14th: WASHINGTON DC @ the dollhouse w/hot mess, sourpatch<br />february 15th: RICHMOND, VA @ rock garden w/sundials, little master, sourpatch<br />february 16th: BALTIMORE, MD @ hexagon space w/ paul baribeau, the boy who could fly, sourpatch<br />february 17th: PHILADELPHIA, PA @ the marvelous w/cat vet, sourpatch<br />february 18th: EASTHAMPTON, MA @ the flywheel w/ libyans, parasol, sourpatch<br />february 19th: BROOKLYN, NY @ 538 johnson w/ aye nako, dear marje, sourpatch<br />february 20th: BUFFALO, NY @ sugar city<br />february 21st: COLUMBUS, OH @ the monster house w/ maryn jones, the hemlocks<br />february 22nd: BLOOMINGTON, IN @ the way out w/ beaker, high dives<br />february 23rd: CHICAGO, IL @ treasure town w/ this is my fist!, scabs, new creases<br />february 24th: LANSING, IL @ browntown w/ grown ups, like bats, new creases<br />february 25th: CHATTANOOGA @ sluggos north w/ bastard kind, twat sauce<br />february 26th: NEW ORLEANS, LA @nowe miasto w/ small bones, yellow fever, firebrand<br />february 27th: TALLAHASSEE, FL @ fresh fest 4<br />february 28th: TAMPA, FL @ transitions art gallery w/ bitter hearts<br />march 1st: GAINESVILLE, FL @ 1982 w/ bitter hearts, senders, imperial can<br />march 2nd: ATHENS, GA @ farm 255 w/ dead dog<br /><br />see you soon!katie crutchfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09506406910302944806noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4547450546141206956.post-30636784131095429492011-02-10T11:39:00.000-08:002011-02-10T11:42:55.375-08:00bragon this tour we are playing with sourpatch, backpocket, sparkle shit, hot mess, paul baribeau, libyans, cat vet, aye nako, this is my fist, new creases, grown ups, like bats, yellow fever, small bones, senders, bitter hearts, dead dog and many more and it is making all the stress of getting ready melt into overwhelming excitement. we're really lucky.katie crutchfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09506406910302944806noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4547450546141206956.post-88296653568954055262011-02-09T06:04:00.000-08:002011-02-09T06:09:50.816-08:00somebody get this girl a tampon<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrPaOPAaBStY8vU5nWu0AbDZiseaqqVqGL3Jsi_FdwZ17LfJd7bLkErsw0iq92sN-WgAFFjsxNy-mvBx_udf5z0KBEici3RjcwXum0OxR_DMd4IOywGZLhtFglEr0dxVfwtVzs74wWuRU/s1600/dan-savage.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 308px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrPaOPAaBStY8vU5nWu0AbDZiseaqqVqGL3Jsi_FdwZ17LfJd7bLkErsw0iq92sN-WgAFFjsxNy-mvBx_udf5z0KBEici3RjcwXum0OxR_DMd4IOywGZLhtFglEr0dxVfwtVzs74wWuRU/s320/dan-savage.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571690550263594242" border="0" /></a><br />this man has really helped me lately. i don't think he's god. i don't agree with everything he says. i am merely in love with the idea of being brutally honest and telling people the things they don't want to hear in order to help them. i've always thought of myself as more of a rose than a dorothy but i'm going to try and adopt this principle and i would encourage others to follow. 2011 is going to be about reality for katie crutchfield.katie crutchfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09506406910302944806noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4547450546141206956.post-58623104711877174002011-02-08T20:49:00.001-08:002011-02-09T06:23:58.545-08:00boys funover the past few years i've developed and obsessed over a hypothesis regarding the male domination in the "big scheme" umbrella of the punk rock counter culture/diy community/whatever. it's been tested and proven (by me) time and time again and no one ever brings it to light. lauren denitzio, a dear friend of mine, recently wrote a piece that was reposted by punknews. it was (big shock) "misunderstood" by punknews readers for the most part. i mean based on my observation, the typical punknews patron is a 15 year old browbeat dick wad, but because the internet can be a conveniently anonymous place for bigots and browbeat dick wads alike, i have to assume that punknews represents the typical "punk". i'm going off on a tangent. let it be known that i have consumed a significant and notably impressive amount of whiskey tonight and it has created a soapbox in which i will stand on and shout to whoever the fuck wants to listen: sexist/bigoted pricks in the punk scene are really just like slighted ex-boyfriends....and THAT is my everlasting two cents. my hypothesis. you confront them, they pull out the lowest of low blows because they're intimidated/rejected/scorned..and while many times they are physically overbearing, they are also mentally and emotionally anxious, inept and scared shitless. it's a hypermasculine defense mechanism. calling punk dudes out for being oppressive and alienating is essentially like breaking up with your boyfriend when you're a freshman in highschool. it is most certainly the "right" thing to do, you just have to be prepared to be called a cunt on the internet.katie crutchfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09506406910302944806noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4547450546141206956.post-75279693395928642782011-02-07T11:16:00.001-08:002011-02-07T11:26:40.062-08:00waxalyricshere are the promised lyrics from the Chris Clavin split tape I did. The link to buy the tape from PIX is :<a href="http://www.plan-it-x.org/release/chris-clavin/waxahatchee-chris-clavin-split/">http://www.plan-it-x.org/release/chris-clavin/waxahatchee-chris-clavin-split/</a><br /><br />sister saint<br /><br />weak knees, fuck yr sympathy<br />i'll be my own best friend<br />she prays as the radio plays<br />"i see a bad moon rising.." again<br />foretold, she lives on hold<br />what is she trying to save me from?<br />blindspot in the adjacent lot<br />waiting for my time to come<br />i won't wait in this line<br />i've got nothing left in me<br />my weight on yr shifting spine<br />i fuck up and you fabricate me<br />gray days on paper plates<br />our vibrations collide<br />arcane, sister's a saint<br />she sets herself aside<br />pitfall, publish, appall<br />i fall down right in the street<br />you blow smoke, you sugarcoat<br />then you take a front row seat<br />and i think i've had enough<br />i'm not listening to it<br />lay all of yr cards on the table<br />i know that you'd take every bit<br />i won't wait in this line<br />sooner or later it goes awry<br />and you live yr life like a chore<br />and i'm not listening anymore<br /><br /><br />whiskey & math<br /><br />i'm not singing our song<br />i've been waiting here for way too long<br />working out long equations<br />drinking from paper bags<br />and i've spent 14 summers<br />fucking around with this idea<br />and i'll strain every connection<br />and show you what i'm made of<br />you said again<br />you get what you put in<br />my phone won't ring<br />i've put in nothing<br />i'm not blaming myself<br />you're down to dusty bones<br />and i read about women in black<br />floating up to the gray sky<br />and if i was wherever you are<br />i'd tell you pretty things like<br />we can stay as long as you want<br />tangled in sunny daylight<br />those ladies in black<br />i saw them ascending, half-smiling<br />and we live this scripted fate<br />in these moments we drop it and run away<br /><br />home game<br /><br />23rd street<br />the only girl i've ever seen<br />pumpkin street light<br />i was just 14<br />you are not sick<br />you hit your head on the brick wall<br />quick comprehension<br />gold rings and waterfalls<br />we lived a fleeting convention<br />but i felt constant in others' absence<br />your mama, barely awake<br />and your feigned light heart<br />i was stuck from the start<br />trophy of mine<br />highschool football games<br />enemy lines<br />i think both sides feel the same<br />paris in the back of yr mom's chevrolet<br />she pretends we're not there, she smells like yesterday<br />we live like the last two on earth<br />and we'll float on our backs<br />til the whole sky goes black<br />your fresh mind, concentrated<br />all the water we're made of<br />til you evaporated<br />my mother says you are under our feet<br />under the sidewalks, under 23rd street<br /><br />black candy<br /><br />short breaths, our living death<br />you take me for a ride<br />mouth shut, all blood and guts<br />and social suicide<br />why don't you go, pretense in tow<br />we'll be alright<br />eyes wide, good looks preside<br />you take me for a ride<br />we ascend, hand in hand<br />i toss and turn, you understand<br />we learn to synchronize<br />tirade provoke and inside jokes<br />and you just go<br />moonlight pours in tonight<br />and you are infinite<br />we squeeze out dark disease<br />exboyfriend jealousy<br />and then you take off<br />yr name aloft<br />we'll be alright<br />fairweather friends forever<br />and i just wait in line<br />skinned knees, christmas eve<br />it meant everything<br />train tracks, we sit back<br />watch it atrophy<br /><br />clumsy<br /><br />its trivia, the tangles in my hair<br />winter hat on my bedroom floor<br />next to yr underwear<br />and pretty soon i'll have nothing left to cut loose<br />being clumsy's an explanation, not an excuse<br />lately i think about insecurity<br />how i'm not real sure i even know what it means<br />pushing through each boring, blurry day<br />this behavior is a method, not a phase<br />you spell it out, how i mistreated you<br />and i'm silent, you know i treat myself badly too<br />so i write jordan letters to say i'm trying to learn<br />and say i'm sorry for how i acted that one summer<br />i know i've fucked up, i've put people through hell<br />well i guess i just don't know myself that well<br />he forgives, forgets and he thinks that i'm uptight<br />and i'm learning about loneliness each nightkatie crutchfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09506406910302944806noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4547450546141206956.post-83582495087474815562011-02-04T14:33:00.000-08:002011-02-04T14:35:03.073-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8CsesgxDJhQVvWlpnEUf5FpSKoWwddMa_w2yPlIPoPBv8OtpCB_GBuVghgoKRvwvysQkg71SfvukLIPuIx-dtDZn3pak6X2MWxe5eH0jO8tzYgccBo1_ZwE4dyFc4HGvbJmiUTWBOG68/s1600/-5.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8CsesgxDJhQVvWlpnEUf5FpSKoWwddMa_w2yPlIPoPBv8OtpCB_GBuVghgoKRvwvysQkg71SfvukLIPuIx-dtDZn3pak6X2MWxe5eH0jO8tzYgccBo1_ZwE4dyFc4HGvbJmiUTWBOG68/s320/-5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569966550869471378" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj_K7H0AGufhKmvavIG7d0WSjixfXLFDp4GyiLpDaHThNHU9_0LEhsPoXrM7X5lPDs1Tbn4ZFcvOCNg46pvAoJmMJ28yLSc5yRIN2b9X05jgmPHXTanl3zEgsTRVZ-HE7gaG06vixrOUI/s1600/-4.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj_K7H0AGufhKmvavIG7d0WSjixfXLFDp4GyiLpDaHThNHU9_0LEhsPoXrM7X5lPDs1Tbn4ZFcvOCNg46pvAoJmMJ28yLSc5yRIN2b9X05jgmPHXTanl3zEgsTRVZ-HE7gaG06vixrOUI/s320/-4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569966546170924402" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbOqNrqyljx7pTEQy7Ypi3FJmQOeAr728AT9ZewM-mJm-H4AgkNowWNt4k0-_NLdBXYuzb5dE1fJwFqgSFxyhs3yKden6gnejMpp_N8KEqohyphenhyphenxz8z4qHdSndU_gnqtP5L3RL3PRqTPnmg/s1600/-3.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbOqNrqyljx7pTEQy7Ypi3FJmQOeAr728AT9ZewM-mJm-H4AgkNowWNt4k0-_NLdBXYuzb5dE1fJwFqgSFxyhs3yKden6gnejMpp_N8KEqohyphenhyphenxz8z4qHdSndU_gnqtP5L3RL3PRqTPnmg/s320/-3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569966541386673426" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO1iHwFA8qs5AcI8rcLpaIusuxiWTCiQ5VOJRrA4U_WFYbFzdXoiYNGpWvqPRoTdwehYaArDyEO0kHvsIMOgwUmb3MIi6rhUH-1TYFSiInVim-DKRh8obxXy69oHcCkPEAFnsmQEM9TUQ/s1600/-2.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO1iHwFA8qs5AcI8rcLpaIusuxiWTCiQ5VOJRrA4U_WFYbFzdXoiYNGpWvqPRoTdwehYaArDyEO0kHvsIMOgwUmb3MIi6rhUH-1TYFSiInVim-DKRh8obxXy69oHcCkPEAFnsmQEM9TUQ/s320/-2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569966531471635474" border="0" /></a>katie crutchfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09506406910302944806noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4547450546141206956.post-49009381617276688552011-02-01T11:08:00.000-08:002011-02-01T11:09:42.666-08:00dreamy phase<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihgUkpGU8CwKFEslj89Va03FlOzix9IQjYFE1sHr5-ocubgUJFHXHDyGL1pniPKNJvgEbrmqQDwsfMmZkkYcFLqKbhjGPjfQT23b1jGy0cZgWv2_ZV7oHAj9oulfc15DKzlnf09h8hjkA/s1600/518MXzSnxuL._SL500_AA300_.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihgUkpGU8CwKFEslj89Va03FlOzix9IQjYFE1sHr5-ocubgUJFHXHDyGL1pniPKNJvgEbrmqQDwsfMmZkkYcFLqKbhjGPjfQT23b1jGy0cZgWv2_ZV7oHAj9oulfc15DKzlnf09h8hjkA/s320/518MXzSnxuL._SL500_AA300_.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5568800307354536530" border="0" /></a>katie crutchfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09506406910302944806noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4547450546141206956.post-79869201023964937302011-01-21T10:43:00.000-08:002011-01-21T11:35:53.081-08:00milkshakes at coffee shops. facebook chat. rebounds. emotional trauma. trying hard not to talk to you. untoasted bagels. no money. verge of tears. heart in throat. red wine mouth. rooster alarm clock. people named chad or amber. disappointing people. ex boyfriends and ex girlfriends finding new boyfriends and girlfriends. consistent self-medication. full moons. hormones. spaghetti dinner. every single fucking person in your life having more important things to do. more important people to be with. giving you those photos. being a hypocrite. getting whats coming. karma. desperation. crying at work. learning how to change. everything in excess. over-stimulation. roy orbison resonating. guilt trips. birmingham. punk rock fascism. talking to distracted people. having no best friend. its shit. its all really just shit.katie crutchfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09506406910302944806noreply@blogger.com0