susceptible to confusion. prone to agitation. velocity dysphoria warps normalcy and twists rationality to odd ends of the established spectrum. an otherwise routine trip to the grocery store suddenly becomes an existential and time-sucking probe into meaninglessness. the concepts of “doing nothing” or “being bored” feel out of the question. to pole-vault over mouse turds actually becomes the ambition. making mountains out of mole hills might be the only way to get your rocks off. this, however, can quickly add degrade healthy conversation, meaningful human to human interaction; your dopamine driven desire can impose a cloud of unreliability in the sunny skies of a month-long-on-pause friendship (a biography of hyphens unfurls itself before my eyes). reason and logic turn suspect. anecdotal musings prove unbearable. casually thrown quips become performative and humorless.

breathwork can help. oversleeping doesn’t. visiting family, friends, reading, sauna, cold plunge, physical activity, the occasional tub of van leeuwen’s marshmallow chocolate crispy treat ice cream…there are an infinite number of ways to keep moving, but no real cure to the slow grinding of gears as the engine sputters and struggles to slow down; to match the sudden drop in momentum. your life is this now.

that thing itself doesn’t ever change but worry not! the same you that just traversed over 9000 miles of these oil crisis’d united states in a sprinter van with half functioning A/C smack dab in the middle of summer living off costco hot dogs and buc-ees bathroom sink water, you can certainly sit still for a month, right? riiight???

the challenge of adjusting to home life post-tour doesn’t itself get easier and the greatest difficulty isn’t even in learning how to conquer it. turns out the key to this whole thing is YOU. the motherfucking wrenches never stop flying, but you get better at the dodge, duck, dip, dive, & dodge of it all. time after time, tour after tour, you learn something that aids in this process. something to make the inevitable landing just a (insert holly hunter voice) dash softer than it used to be. but that requires practice, reps, awareness, and patience with yourself. you need to believe in you more than anyone. for whatever it’s worth, i believe in you.

xoxo, gossip girl.

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climbed smoothly to the mile high city to pick up a new friend and shake out the first show of this leg. listen to dirt buyer dirt buyer dirt buyer dirt buyer dirt buyer

visited the land of swig and soak, running up that hill to memory grove and city creek in preparation for a sweaty show at kilby court. 10 years since playing that venue with . utah never fails to color me fuzzy.

boys really locked in in boise. at that point, excessive caffeination mixed with lasting elevation acclimatizing and slap-happy susceptibility the giggles started a-flowing. developing our secret language for the four of us only, signaling to each other whilst wisping in and out of hotels, bnb’s, venues, coffee spots and maveriks. confirming the reality of our survival with each other through cracked jokes and knowing looks.

and the music reflects all of it. our radar ears continuously searching for comrades’ blips as the song unravels in front of us, or maybe it’s raveling itself up again since the last time it happened. long drawn out scribbles of night highway poems only making true sense after fighting our way through a setlist together. learning how to feel again, and how not to. an hour and a half of base pacing up a dagoban rainforest in the second of two des moines’ you’ve ever slept in. freeing a moth from entanglement without touching its wings. licking ravenously at the humidity we’ve been longing for. these are the lengthy and warm summer days i’ve so craved.

yeah buddy. oh boy. surprised to conquer my fear of my own songs. surprised to realize i’ve been afraid them at all. parts of myself i thrice (at least) swore to keep in the ground, only to find me now, all narrow-eyed and bushy-grinned, with a shovel in his hands.

you make here nice.

LA tomorrow at moroccan lounge.

we’re headed to boise, it’s hot and the van A/C is full blast. mountain elevation making me work for it this morning while running memory grove and city creek canyon. coco gauff had it in the palm of her hand. inaugural visit to swig on our way out of utah (recs welcome).

truly so grateful to see your lovely faces out at these shows, i hope they do as much for you as they’ve done for me thus far.

xoxo - nathan

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we NEED to talk about the parking situation in philadelphia. brotherly love apparently only applies for 2 hours at a time until 4pm??? change it. it’s far too confusing and i’m flabbergasted and confounded. back to back parking tickets had me pulling at my alt caesar (i hate this self description but have few options). made some new friends though, and thoroughly enjoyed the morning runs around your town. snagged incredible sandos at monk’s cafe and middle child. shout out thank you thank you & knead bakery! took a stroll through the barnes foundation on the homie sachi’s recommendation. i think renoir took the cake for me. liberty bell and independence hall prompting an impending National Treasure rewatch.

correct me if i’m wrong but i think the last time i was at the red room at cafe 939 in boston was when yabadum opened for september 8th, 2015. wild to think about. hadn’t changed a bit. boston’s food scene is horrendous, i’m sorry to say. recounting the impressive lack of options the next day in williamsburg, native bostonite bucky boudreau called it a wasteland which made me laugh.

new york is all encompassing, like a fractal of itself perpetually self-referencing until you can’t remember any other place you’ve ever been. david kramer’s daddy called it a carnival for adults. i can’t imagine staying indoors while in the city, but my introvert / otrovert self can only imbibe for so long before all steam is lost. union pool was a gay ol time, i appreciate seeing minnesotans holding it down out there, much love. watching the knicks win by 1 point was a thrill.

i’m very excited to go back to the east coast hopfully this fall! but before then i’m even more excited to be hitting the road this july and would truly love to see you all there. new music soon and new covers sooner. thank you for the support and the love, i had so much fun and my heart is full. be well, xoxo.

anywho, welcome to the middle of may, everybody. glad you made it. what a fucking ride.

i was lucky enough to get a bib for the maine coast marathon in wells, maine and finished 29th overall in 2:56:35. tbh i was hoping for more “coast” to this course beyond the 45 minute wait on the the blustery shoreline of that frigid morning which almost certainly lead to the unforgiving cold i spent kicking for the next week and a half. between plowing through afrin, halls, and kleenex, i had the pleasure of some well-earned oyster-induced hallucinations (wetsmack) and comprehensive lobster roll analysis (cold, little bit of pepper, sue me).

the run felt good, miles 21 & 22 were probably the most scenic, good energy from everyone out there. grandma’s is just around the corner.

my 2026 book recommendations so far are as follows:

1. In Other Words by Jhumpa Lahiri - stunning work on the italian language, mostly the author’s relationship with it. for any writers out there, pick this one up asap.

2. Stag Dance by Torrey Peters - rec and because of its quality i thusly rec it to y’all. the stag dance story itself is fucking masterful. sometimes reading is a chore, but that shit was a delight and inspiring. hurray for the riff recs!

3. Monkey Grip by Helen Garner - aussie poly(ish) junkies doing the best they can with what they got. i love how the world feels both vintage and modern in this book but i hate myself for writing such a cliche tumblr ass sentence.

(honorable audiobook: Delusions by )

these albums are rippers:

• What It’s Like To Be A Bat - Finn Streuper

  • this album is gorg, and this website is genius

• Something Worth Waiting For - Friko

  • chicago bangers

• Lubbock (on everything) - Terry Allen

  • legendary texan, unreal storytelling, roll the windows down and let the smiles abound

i’m going on tour in july, did you know? will i see you? will we laugh and hug and cry and sweat and shout together? i sure hope so, who knows how much time we have left.

gonna be a hot muffuggin ass tour yall, i’m thoroughly stoked. if you didn’t already click i’ll throw another link to tickets here because i am a redundant dunce. also, should i make a tour poster out of this beautiful tour poster or just leave it as a tour poster? shout out david kramer always crushing.

below is the demo for Dream Machine, the first song off my latest record Ditto. we ended up using the same guitars and keys for the final recording. it doesn’t drop as hard as the final, so there’s a sweet fragility to it. the saxophone and all the backing vocals in the final recording are probably what i miss most though. the riff is a pickup, but not clearly, so everyone feels it differently than i do, which naturally makes me quite happy.

closing thoughts on sobriety. 4 years ago i was in a very different place and i’m forever grateful to be here. life can be really great. the gratitude goes a long way. whatever journey you find yourself on, i truly hope you have good people around you to help guide you, protect you, celebrate you, cry with you, and call you out on your bullshit; we all got some. give yourself grace, but hold no prisoners. keep tabs on your past selves, and pave the way for your future ones.

very excited to see you this summer. i love you - nathan.

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Pert near impossible to replicate her vocal phrasings, but I did my best. Stunning morning here in Minnesota, sun all over, pheasant, blue jay, blackbird, woodpecker, a kiss of cardamom in my coffee, the Boston Marathon livestreaming gently in the background…I hope you enjoy the day as much as I am. NGL pheasants kinda freak me out.

Also I’m opening for Anjimile on the east coast at the beginning of June and would love to see y’all out there. Tickets available here. So stoked and grateful to play with Jimi to support his sick new record, “You’re Free To Go”

Cover song below! Very excited to share more soon! Grateful for you, xoxo

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Bangers. The whole record. No skips. But I was particularly floored by the starkness of the first two songs. Between “Burn Hollywood” and “Never Come Down” there existed a true blue fuck-it attitude in lyric and production that guided us through that summer like a pack of cigarettes that never ran out.

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i had the pleasure of playing the fuzzy needle in durham nc with anjimile as a part of a residency celebrating his new album “you’re free to go.” band consisted of absolute legends brad cook, matt mccaughan, yan westerlund. after having the privilege of playing on & living with this record for two years it was so meditative and stunning to watch jimi embody these songs with such power. “the needle” was spellbound and i’m beyond excited to support him on his east coast tour this june, might play all new brokenz songs for that run, sorry not sorry 🤷‍♂️

while in durham i clocked a long run on the american tobacco trail and fell in love with trees again. spring done sprung and that eastern redbud sure got me smitten. for any tree lovers out there i’d recommend reading the overstory by richard powers, it will level you. also getting reps in at the al buehler trail in the duke forest amidst march madness felt like a movie.

speaking of running i’ll be at the maine coast marathon may 3rd for all you runners come thru /// any of yall got some new favorite long distance shoes? no plates please /// if i dont see you there, maybe catch ya at grandma’s in duluth at which hippo campus will be playing 👵

wowow what a fucking sick record, have yall listened to this band RIBBIT ??? i hear they’re composed entirely of spcpa alum, i hear there might be masks and 360 cams involved in the future, i hear they might join brotherkenzie for a tour, i hear there’s already a new record getting made 🐸🐸🐸

paid subs can listen to the/a lucky strike demo below, a song about missing the mark. i think it’s tuned DGDGBE, but will figure out an official tab later.

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Gear-wise it was pretty bare bones but more than made up for it in square footage. There were no rules, nobody else telling us what we couldn’t do, so we brought in a couple synths, guitars, and got to work. The cycles of the sun meant very little to us in that windowless nook. Since there were no boundaries, there existed no pressure to push beyond anything. Joy was the only existence. We brandished our hangovers with pride, lasting proof of nights well spent. We said yes to everything. It would have been impolite not to. To us, our situation was of PowerBall proportions, and the most appropriate response was to accept every musical idea that was offered, with all-consuming laughter and a severe lack of embarrassment.

We started the process by collecting voice memos, bits and pieces of various instruments or vocal phrasings crudely recorded by whatever version of iPhone we had at the time. Until this album process, I had arrogantly clung to my own ideas with the hopes that maybe one day they would spawn the next hit single from whatever project they were eventually assigned to. “Maggot Water” being a collage of dozens, it forced a shift of this concept. What was once precious and wrought over, was now reduced to 1.5 seconds of intro music. It became an inside joke; that my “life’s work” was thusly cuckolded into an Ableton session with a few errant clicks of the mouse.

Our complete dedication to whatever running bit we were rinsing ended up resulting in more than just a novelty-type effect. We unearthed enjoyment in repetition. Laugh-core became our north star genre. “Cannonball” was just a drunken shanty guitar loop until we screamed it loud enough. “Desperado” was just a displaced rhythm exercise until we found the gall to pen lyrics about flirting with a friend’s grandmother. We knew we had it in us, but until then had no creative environment conducive enough to allow such salacious themes to truly strut their stuff.

To me, at its core, “Threesome” still sounds like 3 uncut, grade A friendships fearlessly bombing a freshly powdered mountain. Chugging Cholula for no one’s sake but our own. Laughing til the cows come home. Naked, wild, and beautiful. 5 years is a long ass time y’all. There are parts of me that have died since then. Parts that have been resurrected. The world is different. This is how it works. Nothing new or revelatory here. Just good old fashioned life. It’s comforting. It’s nice to learn from, and the proof of its meaningfulness is that it still has something to teach me.

Thank you Jake and Caleb, love you forever - Nathan.

"Threesome" by Baby Boys