A double vinyl LP compilation of tracks from 26 artists associated with the Whitehaus in Jamaica Plain.
that summer you moved quickly. there was no time after work to go home before the show so you pack those boots in your bag in the morning when you left the new apartment, made a call during a cigarette break and scribbled an address, a part of town you don’t know but go alone anyway, all the streets look the same but you find it, from the outside it looks like no one’s home and at the bottom of the dark stairs you panic. you almost turn and run but you don’t and the door opens for your knock and there’s a smiling face on the other side…
seasons become other seasons and yet again and again, when you go shopping at the local grocer you know the cashier and tell the sweet boy how well he sang last night, you are location now, faces have become friends, friends become roommates, and front doors become memories. And there’s the stoop where you broke up with that guy from Brattleboro, there’s the porch where Austin taught you to juggle, there’s the parking lot where everybody plays communist soccer in the spring…
now under your skin a record is written of the electric stutterspit heartbeat of a place, made of movement and songs, made of history and fiction, and yes, it was written by everyone. Yes, the people all of them that live inside and outside and outside, you look like a giant. Better than Mount Rushmore. More like the river, standing to its feet, Yes, you can hear it. Can’t you hear it? The Sun is applauding… (Brian Stephen Ellis)
Recordings of Brian’s poetry! Featuring Turkey Shoot, Falling off my bicycle, Caesarian, Criminal, Untitled #2, Untitled #3, and Untitled #4!
Released on CD-R in chipboard sleeve with photocopied artwork by Brian S. Ellis.
The highly desired and long awaited full length album by Greg Mullen of his songs. Recorded by Max Raphael and mastered by Brian Charles at Zippah Recording in Boston. Released 26 March 2010. Featuring Colin Dinnie on Electric and Upright Bass, John Hansard on Trumpet, Electric Guitar and Singing, Adam Ryan Kohl Mccarthy Foam on Drums, Kate Lee on Piano, Organ and Singing, and Greg Mullen on Guitar, Harmonica, Piano, Toy Piano, Singing. Pictures by Briana Horrigan. Buy the 12? LP here: GO GET IT
Released on LP with printed artwork by Briana Horrigan, and on CD-R with blue inked stamp adapted from Briana’s artwork by Greg Mullen.
Recordings of Brian S. Ellis’ poetry.
Released on CD-R in chipboard sleeve. First edition had paint splatter and photocopied artwork by Brian S. Ellis. Second edition had no paint splatter and included a photocopied B&W photograph.
Released on CD-R in white cardboard sleeve with letterpressed artwork by Greg Sun. Also released as a 7″ with letterpress / color printed artwork on Grinding Tapes / Sun of Bees
Mystical Revelation is an everyday occurrence. So are you. This record is about the joy. Welcome to my word. It is a drone record made mostly with guitar. I think it is really good for the times when you need a straight, electric feeling coursing through your veins.
Released digitally on archive.org
A collection of studio, live, and home recordings by Gracious Calamity. Compiled for their summer 2009 tour with Tiny Tornadoes. All the hits! 100(ish) handmade copies exist.
Released on CD-R in chipboard sleeve with artwork designed and screenprinted by Gracious Calamity.
Chiaroscuro is a dreamscape Casey built out of words, beats, and the Shangri-las. She assembled it in the late night, in the dark, surrounded by bird’s nests and watching all the things in her mind spinning and moving. 10 copies dubbed in June 2009. Super Rare.
Released as a CD-R in chipboard sleeve and casette tape with photocopied drawings by Lenora Symczak.
“Truman Peyote is an astonishing mix of primitivist clattering and modern electronic twerks. It sounds like a Martian tribe emulating pygmy music, or ghostly reverberations from a dancefloor in the future.” The Weekly Dig
“New Wife, New Life” featured on pitchfork.com
Released as a CD-R in plastic sleeve with photocopied art by Truman Peyote