Christmas in April
Accidentally making another album, infernal noise, and promotional atonement
Without planning on it, I released another album at the end of last month. It’s called “vaguely apprehended christmastime” and I have conflicting feelings about it. Not because I think it’s bad/lesser/dog-ass or anything, not because I regret releasing it so quickly on the heels of the vastly overstated re-release of my debut (it was just gonna be a tape, I swear).
The incessant need to be surmounting the steep slopes of others’ attention hasn’t been something I paid close attention to, until now. An Album purportedly demands more of the listener, demanding more and demanding instantly. “If I release a full-length, people will have to care more!” is a thought that echoed through my brain crevices for most of March.
At first, I just wanted to record a cover. I missed making music with Dylan, my old bandmate in NATL PARK SRVC, and it seemed like a fun, low(ish) stakes opportunity to make something out of our shared love for David Berman’s oeuvre. We initially talked about recording at the end of 2025; I had some synth improvisations and ambiance gathering data dust, so it might as well all become a (traditional A-side, B-side) single. A mixture of blown-out Bob Dylan radio samples, distorted Satie chords, and every strange sound I could gather by sticking my recorder in the snowbank, paired with the Berman cover, would be a perfect holiday attention-grab. What better time to scrounge for validation than Christ’s birthday?
Releasing music on my own terms was freeing at first but it has already become an anxious task. This isn’t surprising, but still it is frustrating. Dropping new noise into the void seemed simple, pressure-free, guileless. The sound would speak for itself and it would take me wherever it wanted. There was no plan. Only a year after releasing “impossible february,” I was already stuck in the rut I sought to initially avoid. I found myself wanting — such a grave sin. I wanted validation, I wanted opportunity, I wanted the attention I claimed to avoid. The easiest way to lie to yourself is to say you don’t want to be vindicated, to be praised. The solution? Demanding it by presenting something new, that was in fact not at all rushed.
More is always better, right? Obviously not, but don’t tell that to the aly of March 2026. I’ve been lucky enough to improvise with James and Seer of askSERPENT a few times this year, at home and on stage. What began as rehearsal for a show at Seward Cafe (it was supposed to be a solo SEER set, but if you annoy someone enough over DMs, they’ll let you join their band) ended up as a bulk of my new record. Their noise is the bedrock for over half of the tracklist, layered with resampled strings sourced from a plea posted to Instagram, and whatever you might call my frantic synth decay.
By involving a now-beloved collaborator, my scramble to make a rEcOrD seemed even slightly less vain. I was creating because I wanted to create, not merely because I wanted to assume the posture of someone with enough artistic merit to have an actual back catalogue. Maybe if I release a half-dozen Bandcamp albums over the next few years, someone will want to press some vinyl in 2032. I’m always waiting for the hand to be extended, welcoming me to a realm of bona fides and external respect. This tear between the simple desire to share the things I’ve been working on, especially with others, and the need to be seen as legitimate didn’t dissipate upon the new album’s release. The chasm remains and will remain, likely forever. Desire is an ill-fated doorstop after all.
The unlikely catalyst for anything beyond the 7” was a British girl’s bağlama, sent via voice memos recorded on an iPad’s built-in mic. Lavin’s delightfully lo-fi strumming / noodling needed somewhere to live, hence my flagrant repurposing of improvised rehearsal recordings. Despite my ambivalence, the voices of friends near and far justified another bundle of .wavs. Thank you to anyone who has listened or even foolishly given me money for my inverted abstractions.
Esoteric Abundance
I joined a cult! It’s technically an arts and music collective, but it’s basically a cult. I’m the latest zealot to join the Order of the Wire Mother, an ongoing ensemble for which James and Seer recruited me. In order to prove our existence to the wider world (aka Bandcamp), the Order released a track, edited together from an extended improvisation that I recorded with the duo.
Shows!
Speaking of cults, here are the next couple of shows both the Order and purity olympics will be playing -
Supporting three touring acts (Seattle’s Kole Galbraith, Fargo’s Wet Nurse and Numb Body), purity olympics will be performing a duo set (aly + James) alongside the Order, James Allen’s Timmy the Tapeworm, and fellow locals SWIM and Prick.
The following weekend will feature a smorgasbord of the Order’s many arms on Sunday, April 19 at Pilllar Forum (poster to come) -
purity olympics / Chippu / Kanske
M. Harlan Engelmann
Blood Bath & Beyond
Order of the Wire Mother (large group)
Maybe I’ll see you there, but I doubt it. Love you anyways.
- aly <3