Written By: Jordannah Elizabeth

Photo Credit: Jordannah Elizabeth

Anyone who knows me knows I am interested in…almost everything, but I can say that I am particularly interested in following the transits of the planets and the affects their movements have on our earthly experiences and emotions.

June is the season of the Gemini birthday. I scheduled my silent fast around a particular Gemini birthday dinner party which was appropriately called, ¨Gemini Potluck¨ because I enjoyed the company of the friends who would attend. I had already collected a nice pile of vinyls, books, comics, canvases and other artsy trinkets I knew any artist would enjoy so I was able to pick a few items from my collection for the party with ease.

I wasn’t too fixated on Gemini as an astrological affect and transit at the point, but I was still shaken by a couple of falling outs I had experienced and had a small inclination that since Gemini was ruled by the planet of Mercury, which rules communication, the months may have had something to do with my social communications going array – planetarily speaking. I called a car to the party which was 4 blocks away because rain was pouring down outside. For some reason Uber and Lyft´s GPS would cars to an alley behind my apartment in downtown Baltimore, so I learned to call ahead to guide the drivers to the correct spot. Because it was rainy, I was standing in my apartment/row house´s dense doorway where the driver would have to follow my instructions because I wasn’t in eye’s view. Well, one driver continued to follow the GPS instead of my directions and screamed at me because he kept following the GPS, the very thing I specifically instructed him not to do in circles, causing him to drive around in circles three times. Continue reading →

Written By: Jordannah Elizabeth

INTRODUCTION

(I didn’t take any photos yesterday to go along with this post because I left my phone at home… on purpose.) My fast will begin on June 1st.

I was sitting in the back of a small club last night to watch a hip hop show. After an attempt to be depressed by sleeping until 10 pm that day, I had woken up with plans to go right back to bed. My house was lively and full of racket and I heard someone say, ¨White boy!¨ and loud laughter ensued. Racial stereotypes was actually the very subject that had been draining me as ¨white supremacy¨ has become the buzzword and hot topic of the moment in our culture, and I just wanted to get away.

I took a quick shower and walked a few blocks to my destination. I bought myself a drink, opened a tab and sat casually on one of the couches in the club. I made small talk with strangers sitting next to me, but mostly kept to myself  enjoying the few moments I had where I didn´t have to think. I let the music flow over me and sat quietly.

A young woman was rapping that evening and I thought she was very good. She said to the crowd, ¨My brother is in jail for a crime he didn’t commit, everyone say Justice for Joe Black!¨ By this time I was in the back of the room on a bar stool. (I ended up mingling at the very end of the night as some kind acquaintances and friends trickled in.) I wore a fitted white tee shirt and jeans and no jewelry except my wedding rings. I left my phone home because I wanted peace. Nonetheless, I made mental notes of my night as I planned to write this entry with vividness, so I made a point to remember the name, Joe Black.

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By: Jordannah Elizabeth

photo credit: jordannah elizabeth

Editor´s Note: The Village Voice canned this piece because I was overly proficient in asking my editor to submit my contract, w9 and invoice for a previous piece to the business office to be processed. I called the paper to get in touch with the accountant with an intuition that my editor had not sent in my paperwork since it took a miracle to get him to answer any questions I had in regards to editorial information like structure, time line, word count, ect. Instead of being sent to the accountant, I was put in touch with the managing editor, so my editor fired me because I unknowingly ¨talked to his boss¨.

The thing about Jordannah is that she likes to be paid. Another thing about Jordannah Elizabeth is that she is serious about her accounting, invoices and yearly paper trails. Being a top tier writer is not easy, especially now that my industry is in a professional season where publications do not invest in proof readers, fact checkers, copywriters or editors who answer emails (not all editors, you know I love many of you – and I am one and get that the gig is not a cake walk). Now that I can´t play the ¨young man´s game¨ like I used to, being that I have a family, teach children and structure workshops, mentorships and lectures, I need lean on my editorial staffs a bit more – and they just aren´t there.

This is why Publik / Private exists: to cushion the blow of the inefficiency of the journalism industry and to give a place for great writers, artists and musicians to never be turned away.

The Veldt and Brian Jonestown Massacre are bands I honor and respect. I´ve known them in some form or fashion for almost a decade and they gave me a wonderful opportunity to see them play live in New York earlier this month and spoke to me with kindness and inclusion. For that I am always thankful and look forward to seeing their shows when they tour in or near my city again. Artistry and the interest of our subjects must be kept in high regard when writing about them. They are not a meal ticket, they are friends, and I am a bit tired of being a part of an industry who doesn´t put our artists first. Without them, we have nothing to publish. – je

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After almost 30 years of music, tours and miscellaneous memories of rock and roll history, the stars finally aligned to cause two legendary American bands, The Veldt and the Brian Jonestown Massacre to come together in mind, soul and music.

New York City came out in droves to sold out Webster Hall on May 9th to see this once in a lifetime line up blend sonic experimentation and well oiled vocals for a satisfying night of neo psychedelic, soul gaze and Brit pop influenced rock. Both bands did not disappoint as every member in the Veldt and The Brian Jonestown Massacre appeared to be in good health, professional and focused. Anton Newcombe, leader of the Brian Jonestown Massacre, seemed to be enjoying his bond with the crowd, spouting spiraling monologues whose topics ranged from astrology to his experience meeting Robert Downey Jr. in rehab. The Veldt were a bit more concentrated on their sound, creating hair raising walls of sound that were coated with gospel and soul like vocals that would make any audience member a believer.

Nonetheless, it was before and after the sold out shows, once all the strangers had gone, that The Veldt found that they had found kindred spirits in The Brian Jonestown Massacre.

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Written By: Jordannah Elizabeth

Well, you know everything we do here is outside of the box. Either nothing or everything is left to the imagination, but artists like Robert Nix don’t even fit neatly into an all or nothing context of free form publishing. His stark and chromatic style of post punk may not be for everyone, which is and is not the point. Nix has released released a number of albums, is a bold artist and musician and does what he wants on a continual basis. I like that.

Robert Nix is largely recognized as an innovative alternative artist, incorporating alternative, postpunksynth, new wave, pop, classical and progressive rock into his songs and appealing to the ‘intelligent alternative music fan’.

With his unique songwriting style, musical approach and distinctive haunting voice Nix stands out from the rest of the crowd.

“Once in a Blue Moon”, Robert’s latest release, is his 5th. The album reveals an artist dedicated to recording his own brand of song. Nix handles all aspects of the album’s writing, performance and production.

Written By: Jordannah Elizabeth

Unwanted is a new column for writings that were rejected by publications they were  submitted to. This is a rejected piece for Aquarium Drunkard written in 2013.

“To attempt to logically fathom the lyrics of this vague and nonsensical contemporary adult psych ballad without the aid of a powerful psychedelic would be a lost expenditure of time.”

A short time after Lee Hazlewood wrote and produced the massive hit, “These Boots of Made For Walking” for Nancy Sinatra in 1966, the producer and singer continued to record songs together, and released a plethora of tracks as an uncomfortably sexy (the age difference between Sinatra and Hazlewood was strikingly apparent) psychedelic pop musical duo.

This eerie emotionally tongue twisting track, Some Velvet Morning was released in 1968, and came no where near the success of “Boots”. Nonetheless, the song is a psychedelic classic that is as mythical and logically off putting as it is darkly sexy and creatively presented.

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Written By: Jordannah Elizabeth

Take a moment. Let your guard down. Open your heart to the reality of a constant massive loss of souls.

Acknowledge that somewhere, right now people are being brutally raped, beaten,

tortured, maimed, burned and beheaded. Imagine the screaming, the fear and the unspeakable pain.

Know it, understand it, let the visualizations run quickly through your mind.

Stay open, don’t shut it off for five minutes.

Awaken. Be grateful.

Stop and understand what you saw in your mind and what you felt in your consciousness,

body and spirit. Remember, and remind yourself when you begin to complain of experiencing

lack, a small illness or a social slight.

And when you see a human being in danger, remember your understanding,

acknowledge that they are in danger, sit with it for a second, then react and protect.

You will learn to love and protect a stranger that is not your kin.

Accept that. Know that will make you respect a fuller spectrum of the human experience.

You will be more fully realized. And will have a greater capacity of love.

Written By: Jeff Schaller

Our Band Could Be Your Life, Michael Azerrad’s famous survey of the American underground scene in the 1980’s, came out 15 years ago. I didn’t get around to reading it until 2006 or so but, since its release, there seems to’ve been an outgrowth of nonfiction on semi-obscure, late 20th century post/punk/noise/rock. Some of this is entirely nostalgic—inane anecdotes and famous names, existing only to remind that “you weren’t there” (see: American Hardcore). Others, like I Live Inside, the new memoir by former Babes in Toyland bassist Michelle Leon, are actually good. This Minnesota native is a talented writer with an extensive resume and here, it shows.

Structurally, I Live Inside is a series of vignettes. Chronological, but in a recollective sense, the order happens more like memories than dates. For example, after a chapter on journalists asking Babes in Toyland shrewd and insightful (not really) questions about gender, there’s a scene of teenage Leon and a friend drinking in the woods with local stoner boys—Pink Floyd fans with “long hair, hint of a mustache, line from a chew tin worn into the back pockets of their Levi’s.” Most of these flashbacks are written in second-person, a stylistic choice I really enjoyed. It’s intimate and impressionistic, lending her memories the feel of your own. Most importantly, she doesn’t over-do it. Continue reading →

By: Jordannah Elizabeth

I was lucky enough to be able to share my favorite underground bands in my friend, Sjimon Gomper‘s weekly column, Week in Pop for Impose Magazine.

JORDANNAH ELIZABETH’S WEEK IN POP

Artist, writer, journalist, and musician extraordinaire Jordannah Elizabeth releases her new bookDon’t Lose Track Vol. 1: 40 Selected Articles, Essays and Q&As January 29 (pre-order available here.), has launched an Indiegogo for her upcoming book tour, and took the time to share her own exclusive Week in Pop guest selections with the following:

I find it all too rare now that I sit comfortably in the pillow-y depths of my writing career that I am able to write about bands I actually follow. I love writing about and interviewing accomplished indie bands, rappers who explore brave new rhythmic territory and the occasional super famous artist but personally, I love super underground music. I always have and I always will. You’ll find me at a warehouse, loft or gallery show many more times than you’ll see me at a 2,000 seater venue where I’d most likely sit tucked away in the green room, completely nervous from being crammed in a room with 2,000 people…it’s not the people, it’s me. I’m pretty shy. Continue reading →

Written by: Mark Fritz

Foreword by: Jordannah Elizabeth

I have a great life, but I meet a number of people who genuinely don´t like me. I think I essentially step on people´s toes just by showing up. Some people don´t like it when other people ¨show up¨. It shakes the status quo and forces people to make emotional and sometimes physical adjustments in order to create a safe space for others. Without love, people are not willing to make changes for others.

So, maybe I shouldn´t say I meet a number of people who don´t like me. Maybe I should say I meet people who don´t love…not just me, but the sacrifice of kindness that creates longevity and healthy relationships.

~

Anyway, Mark Fritz has a great bond with Publik / Private. His previous submissions inspired me to reach out to him and ask him to write the foreword for my upcoming book, Don’t Lose Track Vol. 1: 40 Selected Articles, Essays and Q&As, and now, he´s back at P / P to submit a raw, rushed, charming, romp of a story that I enjoy. I have no desire to change what he does. Mark, for better or for worse is best, perfect and polished just the way he is. He comes here to get things off this chest and to write what he wants. I completely encourage that…I should probably mention that Fritz is a Pulitzer Prize winning journalist, which is another reason why he can do what he wants…at least here.

I was working on a freelance story about Baby Boomers getting stoned at retirement communities when I came across a woman who suggested her father for the project. He was a hard ­ass welder who got old, scored a pension, then decided a joint every night made his life a bit better. He was a denizen of central Florida, only thirty minutes away from Disney World, a place he never could bother to visit. He had recently returned to weed, like a lot of retirees.

He was a resident of Seminole County, the southern-­fried seat of which is called Sanford, where old money and old poverty collide on a daily basis. This is the place where the criminal justice system exonerated George Zimmerman for murdering Trayvon Martin for being black in the wrong neighborhood.

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