Best Loop - End On A Make, Explained
For those who listen to music and don't just skim through it
I wanted to do something a little different for my latest record and actually talk about the songs, what they’re about, references, and inspiration. The real irony is this might take longer to read than actually just listening to the EP. Oh well.
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Best Loop - End On A Make (2024)
This song was written in early 2021, after my cousins and I took a trip to The Ozarks to celebrate a 30th birthday. I’ve gotten a little more into hiking over the years, but this was my first time out in the winter. As someone who basically cannot handle being cold at all, still have to say it was an incredible change of pace. Zip up the jacket, lace up the boots, and watch the snow slowly fall as you go. We had beers, we had jerky, we had everything.
The three docks:
One for each of us:
We hadn’t vacationed together since our parents were the ones doing the planning, and this experience felt transformative. This combination of making up for lost time with the agency you can only have as an adult; we steer-the-ship and pick-the-trip now. It was in this moment we vowed to do something like this every year going forward; we’ve gone two for three on that promise (so far).
This song juxtaposes slogging through a hike you do want to be on with slogging through your commute and daily routine (usually something you’re not as excited for). So what keeps you going? Is it the next vacation? Or simply getting to the end of each individual day? We all have our own motivations — and freedom can be found anywhere, really.
And when you find it, take it in.
The chorus (“So blame it on your time, your 30s, and the rush hour blue line”) is a take off Banner Pilot’s “Blame it on your Saltash luck, your 20s, yeah, and North Dakota.”
I got stabbed when I was 14-years-old. It sounds like a pretty heavy sentence, but the story itself was generally more ridiculous than anything all that serious. Still — the fact carries some weight, doesn’t it?
In January 2022, I was going through a pretty desolate time at a job it seemed like I’d only just started. Exasperated after a particularly frustrating Zoom meeting, it felt like my time in the position was being counted down with an hourglass. In the aftermath, nothing made more sense than walking into another room of my apartment, picking up a guitar, and beating through this repeated three-chord progression.
Though I was trying to channel in-the-moment angst with my employment situation, I found my mind drifting into the past and reimagining that incident with the knife. Only this time it was night, not day. And it wasn’t a familiar friend wielding the weapon — it was an unknown enemy. So yeah, this one definitely takes some liberties, but I like to think it’s still grounded in something real.
This is the first song I’ve ever written tuned a half step down. Ubisoft.com sez:
By lowering the pitch of each string by one semitone, you can achieve a darker and warmer tone, easier playability, and accommodate a singer's vocal range.
The last notes sung in the final chorus are probably the most I’ve ever gotten after it, vocally, so hopefully the tuning accommodated it enough (if not, Giana Casale’s harmony is in your other earphone, and she sings it grand). Kevin Haack’s guitar solo to close this one out is very likely the peak of the entire record; it cannot be complimented enough.
Lyrical nerdness: the “You don’t say a word / I can’t cut you loose” line in the bridge = a medium-hanging double entendre.
3. “Swill”
This song is about getting lost in a city, as innocent day drinking snowballs out of control. Beverages continue to stack up, and the bar tab continues to rack up — which is just fine (and maybe exactly the point). Intentional, jovial self-destruction.
The chorus, sung only once, lifts its first line from the series finale of Cheers (emphasis mine).
Woody: That, uh, Miss Chambers' husband seemed like a nice guy.
Frasier: She'll make him pay for it. If she's left him a shred of manhood, it's only because she's waiting for the right moment to— to flick it away like the last shriveled pea on her plate. Thank God I'm over her. Hit me, Woody! Four fingers of the meanest swill you got!
Kevin Haack’s background piano track will always serve as a reference to the show’s theme (in my head, at least). Matt Holmes’ Moog addition only increases the Motion City Soundtrack of it all.
Though the bulk of this tune was written in March of 2022 with Chicago in mind, a latter verse shifts the focus to a Palm Springs trip taken 13 months later; mutating a Jay-Z line to compliment my wife’s politeness (“She won’t say ‘no’ / The most she gives you is ‘Not yet’”), before then tributing our friend Loretta’s proclivity for procuring Hpnotiq.
On days like those, you bend the world and make it yours…
4. “This Is For The Things That You’re Going Through”
…but sometimes, there is a price to pay the next morning. I view this tune as the sequel to “Swill.” Waking up, rubbing your eyes, and trying to gauge if you have the energy to go home, eat breakfast, or just find your low-battery phone somewhere on the floor (no, it’s not dead — but it’s close).
Paul McCartney famously wrote “Let It Be” after having a dream about his mother, so it’s very difficult to not sound pretentious when I say a dream is where the chorus of this song originates (caveat: he good/me bad). Swap out Mother Mary with the punk band The Matches playing a house party. I woke up with the repeated chorus line in my head and immediately worked it out on guitar (July 2022).
I don’t really ever get hungover, but when my wife does, she really does; she feels everything — and recovery can be a long, delicate process. And as they say, you’re only as strong as your weakest link. So, together, let’s eat fried food, take a long walk, and breathe in the Lake Michigan air; each sequential step playing a unique part in the cure.
Dave Rokos said Kevin Haack’s solo made him “feel like I’m on vacation,” and if that ain’t cleansing, what is?
(Also: very aware this is the longest song title in my catalogue, but “This Is For The Things…” or “TIFTTTYGT” were never gonna work)
This was the last track written for the record following an October 2022 songwriting session in Gun Lake (Michigan) with my now dormant band, The Ramblin’ Boys Of Pleasure. Though we could never quite agree on an idea to collectively pursue, I took this one for myself and expanded it in 2023.
The first day started with lunch at the ‘fancy’ hotel in town, Bay Pointe. Chris Trott and I broke bread as we waited for Brian Bedford to get off work back in Chicago and join us at the Airbnb later that night. There’s always something about the initial meal of a group trip; the newfound freedom, infinite experiential possibility… the food is good no matter what, and you tend to order a drink regardless of the time. Everything tastes better on the water.
Though this song is easily the most fictionalized of any on the record, our server, of course, was named Lexi. The real trip had fall hiking, Joyce Manor power hours, yoga, beer alphabets, The Simpsons arcade game, taverns, the record shop, drunk podcasting, and Detroit-style pizza. But the song itself is more of a passionate fling; that summer romance with a known expiration date; think Adventureland meets beach town.
The line “You say ten minutes / Just need nine” is blatantly cribbed from the Can’t Hardly Wait soundtrack (“I say ten minutes, baby — cool, I only need nine”).
…please watch Can’t Hardly Wait.
This is also the first percussion recording we’ve done using the cajon my uncle got us as a gift in 2017 (hey, it only took eight years).
Our closer — and title track. No pressure though, right?
For those who do not hoop, this expression originates from basketball. It’s one of optimism, yet determination. Whether you win or lose your last pickup game or are just shooting alone in the driveway, you always want that last shot to sink. None of the other ones matter as long as you can close it out on a high note; as many as it takes, end on a make.
Though primarily written in November of 2022, the opening line came out of one of my spirals from college; wrote the lyric (“Bobby, listen to me”) and even “composed” the punk drum beat in the margins while I should’ve been paying attention in class. Was really into Saves The Day and always dug how singer Chris Conley worked himself and his friends’ names into songs (“Hey Chris, look out across the sky…” is from Track 1 of my favorite record of all-time).
The original title was “Innocence Frayed,” and the lyrics take it back to my childhood cul-de-sac in suburban Chicago. Talking to girls in the street, always in a hamster wheel race to figure them out while also figuring yourself out. No one really knew how to flirt or spit game… other than being kinda mean or indifferent in your crush’s general direction. But there can still be those tender moments; even if they’re closer to happy accidents.
Those who know me even a little know I’ve gotten really into women’s basketball these past few years (thank you, University of Iowa + Chicago Sky). This song is also about the growth of their game and the inequities that held it back in the first place. In the end, everybody wants to — and deserves to — be seen and heard. And while greatness is usually what captures attention first, it’s also OK to fail, make mistakes, and not always be in the winner’s circle. Because you usually learn a hell of a lot more in defeat. Be empowered to succeed, but also be empowered to lose. It’s not the end; just a step.
Though I’ll never all-the-way love the lyrics in this one, hope I did what I set out to do: make a bubblegum pop punk song that takes you back to childhood, faults and all. This time? Listen to the girls, dudes.
* * *
Thank You.
While this record is technically a solo project, it would have been no fun at all to make without a list of incredible collaborators, and Giana Casale (on five of the six tracks) is an absolute show-stopper on vocals. We learned more about singing in one session with her than in nearly 25 years of making music.
Dave Rokos is my favorite punk bassist in the whole damn scene; a fellow feelings boi who can send and receive long texts with the best of ‘em. You are as encouraging as people get, and my goal is for you to believe in yourself as much as you prop up others without thinking twice. Thank you for all the morning convos and your signature exclamation points. Sorry, your signature exclamation points!!!
Kevin Haack… fuck, man. I take pride in knowing you but deeper solace in how much I feel you know me (“Stan. Staaaaaaan.”). Though I’ll always be a little bummed — while 100% understanding — you left punk behind after college, I appreciate you slummin’ it on my side of the genre street for this record. Your talent is a palpable force; I am lucky to know you. Thanks for throwing down windmill dunks on this eight foot hoop. Related/unrelated: sorry about the time you landed on my foot and dislocated your ankle playing basketball… but, man, you handled it like a G.
Dave Hernandez. DAAAAAARKNESS. I will never ask anything, musically, of you again. Quote me on that, or don’t, but I swear it’s (maybe) the truth. You could call in 300 favors from me at any point, on any day, ever. Ooh, and speaking of: thank you for letting me use your CVS card.
Brian Bedford. My alliteratively named homey. I hope, for the rest of our lives, we continue to fill out each other’s gaps. I will never, ever get over how much better you are at tennis than me now. Thanks for so many uses of your basement studio, and for understanding my extroverted ass, even as an introverted engineer. You know I don’t need much, other than constant validation and responses to every single thing I txt/DM/email you. Hopefully by the time you read this, the basement is not also still your bedroom. And get back on dating apps.
Matty Holmes. Dog. How many true cliches can one spout about a human being? You came correct. You kept it 1,000. Real Deal Holyfield, genuine article, keeper and developer of it all (lazy “Keep It All” joke goes here). Thank you for your even temperament, workhorse dedication, and for bringing thee most out of my dumb little punk songs. Your efforts make me feel like I could actually make it, because collaborating with you is like holding a winning lotto ticket.
Dr. Lindsey Back. To my wife of five years (and counting!), thank you for being with me long enough to finally hear songs not about other people. May they forever prosper harmlessly in the state of Texas. You are fun to seize cities with, and I promise to always buy you fries the next day as Willie Dog and Daniel de Visé talk us through; to the Nelson place, Ukrainian Village, West Loop, and back down. There is a piece of you in nearly everything I do.
Thank you to the graphics people (Maggie Loesch, CJ Oltman, Brian Crooks, and Pete Back). I’ve leaned on some of y’all way too much over the years and can’t believe you still answer my txts/emails and indulge these ideas of mine. And thank you to Lori for the edit.
Very lastly: that’s my niece, Quinn, on the cover of this EP; whether a ballerina gymnast or basketball player, hope she crosses me up one day like Iverson did MJ. Love you, Quinny Q.
He compared himself to The Beatles and Michael Jordan?!
I did — take care.
Stream the record here: