Thirteen Nightmares / Mercy Rule / Domestica
Current mood: contemplative
Category: Music

Where to begin on this topic? I don't think anything I can type could possibly sum up the amount of emotion that these folks bring up in me. I don't know that I can even put a handle on it without sounding like an idiot, so I guess I will let the idiocy unfurl.

I covered Such Sweet Thunder in my last blog post, way back when. Once I was involved with them as a fan, I became more and more aware of the other cool local bands that were out there. There was one band that was universally loved by all band members, Thirteen Nightmares, a four piece band that had done what few other local bands had done. They had a record deal with Chicago's Pravda Records, and had an LP out called Shitride, literally the ship that launched our whole music scene in Lincoln and Omaha.

I honestly cannot remember the first time I heard the record. I think it was my second year in college, 1989-1990, and I believe it was in Abel Hall, on the sixth floor, in a room just off the elevator lobby populated by two guys from Hartington, Scott Kathol and John Hausman. These guys were the coolest of the cool, great friendly dispositions and had music taste that was untouchable. I spent a lot of time hanging with them, listening to music, laughing about stuff and drinking a bit too much.

One day, Scott put on a record and it was like being punched square in the face as the first blast of lyrics, before any music, came firing out of the speakers, "I THREW UP IN YOUR BATHROOM STOOL!" The rest was a blur, and I knew I had one thing to do - put that record on again! I honestly cannot tell you what a lifechanging experience listening to that record was. It changed everything for me.

I never actually got to see them live, so they were built up in my head to legendary proportions. And then they were gone. One day, they just broke up, which of course isn't how it unfolded in reality, but how it unfolded for me.

Life in the dorm was pretty haphazard about who you'd meet. I wound up meeting a guy, Ted Taylor, who was the younger brother of Jon, the guitar player in Thirteen Nightmares. He got to hear all of my fanboy ramblings about how great a band they were. He told me I should just let Jon know that I was a fan, an idea that intimidated me. What I knew of Jon was just observation, a guy with a lot of hair that would go to rock shows, and watch them in a contemplative manner and stick to himself, aloof. Ted assured me that when he looked like that, he was probably thinking of food. Jon worked in a guitar shop as a repair tech, so I went over to introduce myself on a cold winter day. Sure enough he had that stand-offish look while he listened to me, then he chimed in, "Hey, Runza has that deal that whatever the temperature is at 10AM, that's the price of a Runza that day!" Ted was right! I could actually talk to this guy that I just looked up to to the point of intimidation, and have a conversation! A huge breakthrough for me.

Eventually, I found out that Jon had started another band that was 3/4 of Thirteen Nightmares. The only member that wasn't involved was the singer/guitarist, Gregg Cosgrove. They were practicing and thinking of names. By this time, I was helping book local bands for the university, so I kept in touch with Jon, his wife, Heidi Ore and their drummer Ron Albertson, just to see when they were ready to play out. This led to me booking the first live show for the newly named Mercy Rule - a band just as powerful as the former lineup.

Mercy Rule were many things to us, mainly a divine inspiration to do things better and with more integrity. They played legendary live shows and put out two CDs (God Protects Fools and Providence) on local label Caulfield Records and a handful of singles on various labels, and they hit the road - hard, all the while showing the rest of us how to walk it like we talk it. When their van wasn't road worthy, they made gigs in an old sedan and learned to rebuild the engine the hard way, by doing it themselves. Then the big time hit. MCA signed them, and they were off to record a major label release with a big producer at a reputable studio. Their A&R guy got fired, and they were eventually dropped, but they had the foresight to have their contract written with a clause that would allow them to buy back their masters and they were smart enough to hold onto their advance money and use it to pay for the buyback. They then issued that record, The Flat Black Chronicles, on Caulfield as well. Eventually Mercy Rule retired so that Ron could pursue art and Jon and Heidi could raise a family, and show us the way to adulthood as well.

Jon and Heidi are back with their new band, Domestica. They recruited Boz Hicks to play drums, a good guy from lots of local bands prior, and someone who fits the mold. Domestica are a great band and great people. Jon and Heidi seem almost more proud of my Grammy win than I am. The ironic thing is that I always thought it would be the other way around, me congratulating them on a new career achievement. It seems odd and wrong that it is turned this way around. In so many ways, for the Lincoln/Omaha music scene they are our mother and father, giving birth to the scene. At the very least, they are the cool older siblings who helped us all learn our footing in the music business. Either way, I owe them, and the other members of Thirteen Nightmares a debt of gratitude that can never be repaid other than by my respect. If you get a chance to pick up any of the releases I mentioned, you ought to.

Currently listening : Providence By Mercy Rule Release date: 11 October, 1994

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Such Sweet Thunder
Current mood: nostalgic
Category: Music

I first became aware of local music during my college years. It had never really struck me before that bands come from somewhere. Maybe in my naivete, I thought that they all came from New York, LA, London and Nashville. It was the late eighties, and there was a real alternative scene buzzing under the radar of most of America. I was attending the University of Nebraska at Lincoln. I was busy going to class, and doing as much as an underage kid can do in a college town. In reading the school paper, I became aware of a local hip-hop group, and went and bought their cassette. It was a real shock to hear lyrics talking about local issues like homelessness and getting by.

I shared this with folks on my dorm floor and my best friend from high school, Jason Anderson, during our late night, often drunken phone conversations. He stayed in the small town in Nebraska where I went to junior high and high school and went to college there. He told me about a local band there called Such Sweet Thunder. An honest band that had a jangly, early REM sound. They had a cassette or two out, and they were going to be coming to Lincoln to play a frat party at a union hall. I went to the show and was blown away. I also managed to get into a shoving match with some assholes I went to high school with, which resulted in me slipping in the beer/muck mixture on the tile floor and falling. The bass player, Doran Bastin, during the middle of a song, set his bass down and came out swinging onto the crowd, making sure I was A-OK. This was the start of something beautiful for me.

Over time, I became associated with the University Program Council's concert and dance committee, and eventually got to run it. We put on shows and had local bands and smaller touring bands on cool labels play for the university students. The band put out a few more cassettes, and I got a job as a manager at a record store. The Doran left and was replaced by Steve Streit. In the meantime, Nirvana had broken. Huge. Smells Like Teen Spirit was playing 'round the clock on MTV and nearly everyone's stereo. The video was of an anarchist high school assembly. The kind that would never happen in reality, but that unified every malcontent and miscreant in wondering why high school couldn't have been so cool for us.

It was in this spirit that I realized something. I knew great local bands through being a music fan and being on the concert and dance committee. I worked at a record store and knew distributors and folks at cool labels. If I could string some money together, *I* could put out a record, or, more appropriately, a CD - something most local bands hadn't tried at that time. I started to put a plan in motion. Such Sweet Thunder had a new cassette coming out, and I would pitch putting out the CD version of it. The band paid for their recording while I came up with about half the money needed to press the CD. I talked my brother and Reg McMeen, owner of Duffy's Tavern in Lincoln - the bar where all the good bands played, and the only bar to really support the scene at the time - into helping with the other half.

The CD, Redneck, came out on November 6, 1992, just before my 22nd birthday. We sold the shit out of that CD. It was hard to keep up with demand because I was hand assembling them with new art and used jewel cases from the store. We were paid off for pressing within six months. I had started my first label, -ism Recordings, with this release. Our address was my dorm room, and the warehouse was my dorm closet. It was a thrilling time to be doing something creative and new.

Such Sweet Thunder gets together now from time to time - a new development. It is always good to see the faces of the guys who I started out with, Scott Roth, Dan Ostdiek, Sven Deepe and Steve Streit (and Doran Bastin in spirit). They are truly brothers of mine, with all the good and bad that comes along with it. There are many folks in my life who helped me form my taste in music - too many to mention - but the fact of the matter is, I wouldn't be where I am right now without the five members of Such Sweet Thunder. Hats off to you guys and see you in March, and also again in July!

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