Life Harvester #25: Lazy Magnet, It Did Happen Here, Pedrodamus 2021 Trend Forecast

Life Harvester is written by Colin Hagendorf and edited by Rebecca Giordano. This is the email version of a print publication available for low-cost individual subscription via Paypal or on Patreon. Life Harvester subscriptions are free to prisoners. If you know an incarcerated person who would like to receive a newsletter every month, get in touch with me directly and I’ll take care of it.

HAPPY GOYISH NEW YEAR
Welcome to the first Life Harv of the new decade. Things have been bad, huh? My baseline hope for this next ultimately arbitrary chunk of time is that things don’t get so bad that I can’t mail everybody a little piece of paper every month. My extreme hope is that things get even a little better for a whole lot of people. Happy birthday to Lynda Barry, Sean Paul, and Zora Neale Hurston.

LAZY MAGNET - MAKE IT FUN AGAIN
Ever since I reviewed a few pairs of sleep headphones in September (Life Harv 21, “Sleep Headphones”) I’ve been getting the same question from friends and strangers alike: “but what do you listen to on them?” And until very recently, my answer would’ve been the same for the past few years: “I listen to a podcast called Sleep With Me where a man tells boring stories and it lulls me to sleep.” 

But something shifted this Autumn. I saw a psychiatrist for the first time in my life, and I was diagnosed and medicated for my, uh... severe character defects. The results have, by and large, been wonderful, something for which I feel incredibly grateful. But one unintended side effect was that the creaky, dulcet tones of the Sleep With Me podcast were no longer having their desired effect. I tried out a number of options, from soothing music to sleep meditations, but nothing quite clicked.

In early November, my friend Jacob Berendes, groundskeeper of fujichia.com, tweeted that his girlfriend Sakiko Mori had recorded Make It Fun Again, a new record for the “band” Lazy Magnet. I had been meaning to buy something on that particular Bandcamp Friday, plus I’d never heard Sakiko’s music. I have no idea what I thought I was getting, but it wasn’t solo-piano (performed by Mori, composed by Jeremy Harris). Harris is the driving force behind Lazy Magnet, the name he’s been using to release most of his music since the mid-90s. His catalog ranges from straightforward techno, to experimental noise, to a spazzy, genre jumping 2007 album that reminds me of thrash jazz quintet Naked City’s barely listenable debut Torture Garden, a record I mistakenly believed made me seem erudite when I was in high school.

For Make It Fun Again, Harris tries his hand at classical composition inspired by the music of Claude Debussy, and it’s mesmerizing. Once I hit play on it that first afternoon, I listened to it continuously for hours. The album’s 33 minutes merged into a single cohesive composition. The listening bled into the evening, and then the night. The following night I put it on to fall asleep to, and I've been falling asleep to it ever since.  

I’ve never been Hooked on Classics, so my exposure to the canon Harris drew on for this record is more or less limited to hearing my kid sister practice piano when I was 13. I’m compelled to disclaim, I think, because “classical music” has an outsized association with sophistication and elegance that frankly intimidates a slob like me. But this record rules and I want the world to know!

Though the album is divided into 10 tracks, I think of it in three parts: the first act runs from the opener, “Do I Dare,” which sounds like a watercolor of a sailboat in the waiting room of a New Age doctor’s office, to about two minutes into the fifth track “Church of Zagers,” when the piano fades into a swell of echoing feedback. Then there’s 8 minutes of white noise that reminds me of the various hours-long Star Trek Idling Engine videos on youtube (which, perhaps not coincidentally, I briefly tried to fall asleep to at some point in my early 30s). Is this a second act or an intermission? You decide. 

The final act plays out as the remainder of the album slowly unravels the themes built earlier on. Though it stays firmly in the realm of melodic music (as opposed to sounding like noise or an experiment), there is an ever-increasing chaos introduced to the compositions. The penultimate track, “Dictionary for Tears,” is perhaps my favorite of the LP. It begins with the most placid moment on the album, a lilting melody played over bass chords that sounds like sitting beside a lake, feeling the warmth of the sun, looking up at the sky, unbothered. Slowly some dark clouds drift in. There’s a sudden chill in the breeze coming off the water. Nothing dramatic happens, but it’s clearly time to go. The final track, “Broadcast Captured to Tape,” is the most hectic by far, careening wildly until it finally settles into a phrase that somehow recalls every moment prior in the album, then ends with a single ringing note which bridges the final chord seamlessly with the opening of “Do I Dare?” creating a perfect loop.

This record has a capacity for the infinite which exists outside the bounds of science. It’s no surprise that Make It Fun Again lends itself well to sleep, it’s governed by the language of dreams—an incredible accomplishment! And yet I’ve been hesitant to write this review because I’ve been unable to shake the fear that the somnolent impact this album has on me will read as an indictment, which is to say, I’m afraid people will think I’m calling this record boring, which I’m not.

I asked Jacob about this, on a recent phone call, and he reassured me it wouldn’t be the case, so I asked to know more about the composer. “The thing about Jeremy,” he began, “is that he’s not a placid, new age guy or scholarly composer. He's an immortal warmaster. He's not quite as chaotic as he used to be but he's absolutely a rager, full of life to the bursting point." 

“He sounds like a maniac,” I responded offhand, and suddenly it all made sense. Of course these songs sooth me. Who but a maniac could write a lullaby for a maniac? 

While much of the credit for this album is clearly due to its composer, I would be remiss to conclude this review without paying my respects to the musician, Sakiko Mori. You can feel her presence at the piano. In her professional life, Mori is a shiatsu practitioner, and she brings a healer’s touch to Harris’s arrangements. Where his tendency is towards collapse, her deft hands are constantly mending. The result is an intertwining of the urge to destroy and the desire to restore. The real magic here, like many great works of art, is in the collaboration.

IT DID HAPPEN HERE
It’s painful and difficult to live in a moment when white supremacist beliefs seem to be gaining ground in mainstream society. The false promises of the Obama years, when the racialized violence of the state—through carceral systems at home, brutality at the border, soft coups and drone strikes abroad—was masked in a post-racial sheen, have been rescinded. In the past four years, the cruelty that undergirds all of US history has been on blatant display, and the lack of response from those in power, especially the ones who are purportedly “on our side,” has left many wondering what we can do when we’re left to fend for ourselves. The events of the 6th of this month, when armed white nationalists successfully stormed the Capital Building in Washington, D.C., remind us that the need to combat these forces is an immediate one. (For a brilliant analysis of why those events are both comically ridiculous and deadly serious, see Katie McDonough’s “Die Laughing At The Capital”) I don’t think the answers in their entirety lie in the past—there are aspects of this moment that are unlike any point in history—but a thorough understanding of how fascism has been previously quelled is urgently needed to help us fight better and more efficiently today.

It Did Happen Here is a 10-part podcast that tells the story of the murder of Ethiopian immigrant Mulugeta Seraw, beaten to death by white supremacists on the streets of Portland in November 1988, and the subsequent coalition of activists of different ethos, from different walks of life, who worked in concert to achieve the common goal of making their community safe from neo-nazis. In the show’s own words, it is “a people’s history of an unlikely collaboration between groups of immigrants, civil rights activists, militant youth, and gay organizers in the the late 80s and early 90s in Portland, Oregon who successfully used a diversity of tactics to confront neo-nazis and chase them off the streets.”

Following Seraw’s death, The Coalition For Human Dignity was formed. It served as an umbrella group for all those who sought to combat the local Nazi presence. The members included street punks who had been fighting nazi skinheads (or “boneheads” as they’re colloquially called) at shows, college students, lesbian pacifists, and veteran civil rights leaders. They employed tactics ranging from overnight vigils to protect the homes of people who had been threatened, “doxing” nazis and informing their employers, sabotaging nazi’s cars so they couldn’t travel, to flat out brawls on the streets of Portland.

The show goes deep on the founding of Anti-Racist Action (ARA), a network of militant anti-racists throughout the US who would travel to each other’s towns to help fight nazis in the streets. The ARA was a mainstay of the punk scene by the time I was a teen, and anyone familiar with the more radical political traditions of punk is at least cursorily aware of it’s history and existence. But there are tons of people for whom this history would be useful who don’t know it because of it’s niche subcultural origins.

The entry point is through the podcast collective’s shared background in punk. IDHH is hosted by rapper Mic Crenshaw, an anti-racist teen skinhead in the 80s who was a member of the infamous Minneapolis Baldies, the first anti-racist skinhead gang in the US who’s members were the core founders of Anti-Racist Action, and photographer Celina Flores. Behind the scenes are Moe Bowstern, a longtime activist and zine maker (remember Xtra Tuf???), Justseeds Collective member Icky A, and friend to the Harv Erin Yanke, a prolific punk drummer (listen to the 2019 Noxeema 7”!), longtime radio producer, co-director of the film Arresting Power: Resisting Police Violence in Portland, and co-editor of Dead Moon: the Book. This is an all-star ensemble, and it shows.

Talking about the podcast with my old friend Tamara Santibañez, an activist and tattooer who shares my interest in community documentation of punk history, she pointed out that IDHH gives no platform to white nationalist ideology, something that can’t be said about similar work. “Did you listen to Motive, that podcast about Chicago skinheads? They gave so much airtime to talking about nazis and what they believed I felt like I had to take a shower after some episodes. This podcast is different. Their focus is on the people harmed and the people fighting. So many explorations of racist groups seem to center discussion of the racists and why they’re like that at the expense of everything and everyone else.”

This unique focus is evident in the episode about Seraw’s murder. Literally every podcast I’ve ever heard about a violent crime has spent a bulk of its time exploring the biographies of the perpetrators. In contrast, IDHH spends comparatively little time on Seraw’s three attackers. We learn their names, a sentence or two of biographical information, and what, if anything is known about them today. Instead, the bulk of the episode is dedicated to archival audio of Seraw’s uncle talking about his nephew, telling us what he was like and how his death impacted those around him.

From Seraw’s death, the narrative arc of IDHH bends towards discussing tactics and outcomes. One strong suit of IDHH is their expansive approach. They tie the White Supremacist groundswell in 80s and 90s Oregan both to the state’s racist past, and to events such as the Bundy Occupation in 2016 and the current rise in popularity of militant right wing groups. The show is unflinching in it’s anti-carceral approach, making clear that while the incarceration of white nationalists provides a moment of respite to the communities they were directly harming, it is not, and can’t be, a solution. As Jon Bair, an activist and member of Portland’s SHARP (Skinheads Against Racial Prejudice) crew, says in episode 8, “I believe the police exist to protect the powerful and our groups exist to protect those who don’t have power…. White supremacy is not a threat to the police.”

IDHH addresses political violence as a tool in a way that is not just unique to podcasts I’ve heard, but is more nuanced than most conversations on the subject that I’ve been privy to. In these conversations usually vere between mainstream liberal “when they go low we go high” handwringing and an insurrectionary Anarchist valorization of fighting that feels too flat to be realistic for me. For the collective behind IDHH, there is no question that fascism can only be met with force. What’s different about the perspective offered is that many of the subjects, teens when they were fighting neo-nazis in the streets, are in or approaching middle age, and have had time to reflect on the personal toll that participating in that violence has taken on them and their friends. These are war stories, and the subjects talk openly about the trauma they carry because of living through it. None of them seem to question that their actions were necessary, but they do wonder if they could have cared for themselves or each other in more sustainable ways.

It Did Happen Here is produced in conjunction with Portland’s community radio station KBOO, with new episodes released weekly. 8 episodes into its 11 episode run, I’m already dreading its end. Rarely has a podcast documenting a moment in the past—even one I’m as deeply interested in as I am in the intersecting histories of punk and radical activism—felt so urgent and resonant today. If you care about the fight against fascism (and I can’t imagine a Life Harv reader who doesn’t), this is a must listen.

PEDRODAMUS TREND FORECAST
Life Harvester Trend Forecaster Pedro Dior is a 10-year-old aspiring Major League pitcher in Bloomington, Indiana. He spent most of 2020 on his homeschool education, figuring out his Rubik’s Cube, and playing Just Dance to stay fit. When asked to sum himself up he said, “I’m smart, funny, and I love video games and my dog Mijo. He’s cute and kind of a brat, but he’s our pup and I love him.”

OUT Being afraid of mirrors. “I mean I’m fine with just looking at myself in the mirror with the light on like if I’m washing my face and there’s gunk on my face. But if I’m in a dark room and I look in a mirror, and I think there might be something scary on the other side, that’s freaky, but it’s not real.”
IN Being afraid of people dying. “I saw this one homeless guy that froze to death because people wouldn’t help him. One day it’s gonna be my turn to die.”

OUT Cats “They’re gonna fuck you up.”
IN Dogs “I love it when Mijo snuggles me.”

OUT Smart Stuff. “Because smart is harder to get than stupid.” [Pedro then pulled a piece of gum out of his mouth, smushed it between his fingers, said “dude this feels like poster putty” then locked eyes with me and said “it’s gum though.”]
IN Stupid stuff. “Stupid stuff rules, like a cow doing a dance.”

OUT Rap about video games. “It’s corny and sometimes they make fun of the games that I like.”
IN BTS. “Whenever I’m having a hard time BTS leads me through it.”

OUT Real Housewives. “It’s just women being jerks to other women because they’re rich.”
IN Regular Show. “It’s about these two slackers that work in a park and do absolutely nothing. It’s very stupid, which is good.”

OUT Pizza. “I still love pizza, but it’s just not that popular anymore. It’s had enough time in the spotlight. It’s been popular from 2014 all the way through 2020. It’s still a good food, but I think people are gonna be into other stuff in 2021.
IN Chicken tenders. “I just got a new air fryer and they are so freakin crispy.”

OUT Cargo pants. “They just have like, too many pockets. And they’re very wide. You don’t need that much space around your ankle.”
IN Vintage tops. “Cause they’re cheap, they’re very comfortable and warm.” [Pedro then did a “brush that dirt off your shoulder move,” pointed at his own shirt, a cream and tan 80s cotton zip up track jacket.] “Isn’t this cool?”

OUT Beer. “It effing sucks and I heard on YouTube that if you drink like, more than five bottles of beer you might die.”
IN Carbonated water. “It hydrates you like water does, but it’s way more fun, and you can have as many as you want. Plus there’s a ton of flavors. My current favorite is ‘Tropical Cherry.’”

OUT Gardening. “You can just buy fruits and vegetables. If I want a carrot I don’t want to wait the whole week it takes for it to grow. Plus it gets you dirty and I don’t want to change my clothes.”
IN Sewing. “You’re making clothes for people and you can give them to the homeless and that’s very helpful.”

OUT Globes. “Usually it takes a lot of time for people to make them, and it’s annoying to find stuff on maps. Continents, countries, states, counties, cities. It’s too much stuff.”
IN Rubik’s Cube. “They’re very challenging. I think it’s a cool 3-D puzzle. Even though stupid things are funnier than smart things, some smart things can still be cool.”

Thank you for listening to my trend forecast. Fuck off 2020, hello 2021! I hope this year’s a lot better than the last one. 
Sincerely, Pedro “The Lion” Dior