Adam Laidlaw (left) and Adam me (right). Photo by Jeremy Quentin the week we were recording this album in Atlanta. I think the three of us were on our way to play a show at the Cottage. Jeremy with Small Houses, Laidlaw with Under White Pines, and me with me.
When you’re alone in the farmhouse and you hear a bunch of gunfire and the power goes out, stays black for a second or two, then goes back on and you hear more gunfire then a very distant explosion. Fucking countrylife.
I can’t tell you guys how nice it is to be happy, relieved, and fucking stoked on life after two years of dumbness. You know what? 2015, big year. Just wait.
Friends! My new zine is out today. It’s about being on the road in America. It’s four bucks from Pioneers Press and it’s called Friends, Get Wayward.
Find ‘em right here.
ABOUT THIS ZINE
Adam Gnade’s Friends, Get Wayward is a collection of travel stories spanning coast to coast, seedy late-night Greyhound stations to lonesome Central Cal beaches, neon-lit New Orleans backstreets to endless cornfields. Says Gnade, “One day America will be one giant Wal-Mart. This zine is an attempt to see it how it is and remember what I can before it’s too late.” Traveling mostly alone, Gnade shows a moody, evocative America full of urban ruin, mall parking lots, methy teenagers, doom-tolling news, piney forests, encroaching technology, traveling preachers on cellphones in decrepit rooms, darkened bars, and sooty brick apartments. Covering travels that took place from winter 2013 up to October 2014, this zine shows what it’s like to be alive and moving in present day America.
That scene where the wolves eat the Russian wedding party? WHAT THE FUCK?! So good. Sometimes she writes like her hands are on fire, but it’s like a fire only she can see or something. When she does that she’s better than anybody. ANYBODY. My Antonia’s a perfect novel. It’s like watching wild horses run and you love them for their strength and beauty but you know you’ll never be anywhere near as pure.
This is Jessie Duke, me, Matt Gauck, and Dylan GW. Photo by Marc Saviano. Food carts somewhere. In front of an old bus. Good friends, good time.
You can find copies right here.
1) When the work is done, go to town and get a bottle of red wine.
2) Listen to The Cure’s “Staring at the Sea” on repeat.
3) Break out the calendars and composition notebooks and plan out this next leg of my life.
The cloud of doom I’ve been under has lifted and it feels like anything is possible. I want to do great things and treat people well and have as much fun as possible in the meantime.
This shit is ON.
Besides the week in Portland being outfuckingstanding and life-affirming I ended up carrying home a bunch of cool shit: The latest Doris book, a Deafula zine, and a blank Tarot notebook from Alex’s shop, Portland Button Works; celebratory space-clearing sage from Lindsey; a copy of Bart’s newspaper; an All Leather 7” and a couple Retox records from when Marc and I went to see Justin play at Slabtown; and one massive Sharpie Jessie gave me right before we hit the road. Great week, great haul. Life is good. Hope you’re all getting set for a nice, mellow autumn. It’s looking beautiful out here.
It’s crazy how you can travel across America and in one 30-hour non-stop stretch see rainforest, rocky desert, badlands, sunny Midwest lakes, white-out rain, big cities, towering pines, freak snowstorms …