Why I Do What I Do

Or at least one of many reasons. A short newsletter on reconnecting with my passions

My big goofy grin as I gaze upon Daniel of Vastum crowd-surfing during their set in April. Picture taken by Adam Schwartz from Toilet Ov Hell

It’s been a few months, and I’ll need to ask a little forgiveness from you. In February I planned to publish a deeply personal, painful article on the 25^th anniversary of my institutionalization at the age of 12. It’s likely the worst thing that ever happened to me and was profoundly traumatizing in ways I may never fully process. The whole experience of trying to write about it threw me into a spiral that derailed almost every part of my life. One of the most vital parts of returning to normalcy after this system shock has been finding my way back out into the world to witness live music. Today’s revitalized dispatch of Trauma Angel exists solely because going to concerts reminded me who I am and what makes me feel most alive. Sure, art in its more fixed recorded state is special (and some art like writing just isn’t meant to be a spectator experience), but being in the room while an artist or group of artists performs in real time is an experience that centers me and fills me with joy. You’ll still get that essay on my thrilling times in residential treatment centers eventually, but today I’d like to share some thoughts on the things that make life worth living.

Flyer for the Sleepytime Gorilla Museum show at Le Poisson Rouge on May 8th, 2025

SLEEPYTIME GORILLA MUSEUM at LPR NYC, 5/8/25 (supported by Spotlights & OGÄD)

I’m putting the biggest “mental reset” of all first, because it’s the most recent, most relevant, and was a night where I can fairly document every artist who performed. I’ve been listening to Sleepytime Gorilla Museum for twenty years and the relationship has only deepened over time. What began as a youthful fascination with anything that felt unfamiliar has grown into a rich appreciation for a group who fuses industrial (in the classic Neubauten sense), folk, metal, and all manner of theatrical traditions into something unlike any other band out there. The group’s commitment to their craft is matched by a sense of playfulness and joy that few groups of such serious musicianship can claim. This joy shines through in not just their performance itself, but in the curation of every lineup they arrange. One can see the shared threads between any artist Sleepytime elects to play with. When they toured in 2024, openers on almost every show were unique and (if I’m not mistaken) were all handpicked. While this tour may be shorter, their curatorial hand remains equally strong and diverse.

Opening the night was the debut performance of OGÄD, a highly physical piece of audio/visual work originally composed by Ava Farber, but expanded to a full sonic quartet live, with Nora Fox and Anni Rossi performing onstage and Jhai Sinnatamby contributing from offstage via mic effects, programming, and automating the backing tracks. The songs were accompanied by costuming by Fabio Toblini and visuals by B.A. Miale to make something that felt like it could be just as home as a short piece of chaotic musical theater as it was on an eclectic bill of experimental rock-adjacent music. The musical content of OGÄD’s set ranged from ethereal three-part vocal harmonies with stringed instruments and piano to frenetic electronic compositions marked equally by empty space and the performers onstage flailing as they screamed. I could not properly describe all the things I saw without simply showing you the set, but that’s half the joy in it. As this project is in a formative state, I’m eager to see how future iterations will grow and change. Here’s a couple links to videos for songs from this project. Check them out and if you’re local to NYC and reading this on publication date, you can catch OGÄD performing tomorrow, May 22nd, so go catch the show if you’re able!

Serving as direct support (for both the night and the entirety of Sleepytime’s short east coast run) was local post-metal group Spotlights, who felt fresh and energetic in a way many similar acts can’t fully embody. While all three members of the band were masterful and had strong stage presence, much of the dynamic brilliance seemed to come from drummer Chris Enriquez, who punctuated each song in ways that maintained inertia through every high, low, and moment in between the two. At moments, they captured the ethereal drift of Disintegration-era Cure, yet their main form was something focused and crushing. Songs like opener “Hang Us All” and the haunting “Sunset Burial” were gripping, and had me looking up the band’s catalog to learn more the morning after the show. I was immediately hooked on both openers, which is a true joy to be able to say about a show I initially attended for just one band.

Headliners Sleepytime Gorilla Museum were in town just over a year ago in support of their album, Of the Last Human Being, and one could easily expect their performance to fall in line with their last visit considering the relatively short gap, yet it was a vastly different show. It felt somehow like it contained a more metallic edge when it mattered most (this is possibly more due to the venue than the band) but the song selections were more meandering and wondrous, which left the whole night feeling like a joyous fever dream. From the opening notes of “Hymn to the Morning Star” into its natural successor, “The Donkey-Headed Adversary of Humanity Opens the Discussion,” it was clear the band was here to take us for a strange ride rather than fully focus on their more recent record or aim purely for “the hits,” as one person bafflingly called out mid-set. When a group’s fan favorites often stretch past the ten minute mark, it’s hard to figure out what “the hits” are, especially in a catalogue where any song would be a welcome treat.

At last year’s performance, new songs like “Burn Into Light” and “El Evil” stood out a bit as less familiar although entirely at home, but this time they felt just as important to the comprehensive experience as lengthy classics like “Babydoctor” and the closing “dance number,” as the band put it, “Powerless.” What makes Sleepytime Gorilla Museum such a compelling live force is not just their homemade instruments like the sledgehammer dulcimer/slide piano log, nor their ability to get lost in a groove, nor is it even the joy of hearing so many dissimilar voices joined in glorious strange unison, but rather the combination of all these things. They are funky, they are fun, they are locked into the tightest of grooves, and yet they are also so loose and free that to watch them is to feel a bit freer yourself. I often chastise groups who focus on virtuosity yet seem to lack the joy of playing, so when a band like Sleepytime Gorilla Museum delivers such a rapturous set it gives me hope that more “high art” music can still take us to the imaginative places that so many people choose to forgo when they become adults. Creation is our greatest joy in life and imagination is how we get there. I hope the Museum will open again soon and allow me to witness such bold and imaginative art. Until then, I will cling to the memory and remember just how joyous music can be.

Flyer for Vastum’s 2025 Violations on the Cross US Tour

VASTUM at The Woodshop, 4/7/25 (supported by Goetia)

I somehow made it through the first few months of 2025 without seeing a single live concert. Going months without music is my spiritual equivalent of surviving on saltines and water for months, so it was thrilling to finally get out for this. I finally crawled out of hibernation (and depression?) to join my pal Baxter in watching Vastum and Goetia play on a chilly night in Brooklyn about a month ago.

Goetia is a band whose name I’d seen around a lot but hadn’t caught before. Their thrashy death metal is on the hypnotic and psychedelic side, but these qualifiers do nothing to remove the ferocity at the core of their sound. The whole band was tense and fully focused in a way that made it hard to look away. I became an immediate fan and was invigorated by the experience.

Getting to see Vastum, however, was a chance to revisit a very special experience. I caught them in 2016 at Migration Fest in Olympia, where I foolishly watched from a balcony seat due to my own exhaustion. Even from a distance, their live energy captivated me and I would fondly recall it to anyone who would listen, telling them how much more physical and present they were than most other death metal bands. Their performance at the Woodshop was smaller, more intimate, and more directly in my face, but it retained all the chaotic joy I remembered. There’s a strong possibility that vocalist Daniel Butler spent more time crowdsurfing and antagonizing the audience on the floor than he did onstage, with a devious presence akin to an extreme metal David Yow. With a solid backing of some of the filthiest but most well composed death metal around, it made for an experience that takes Vastum’s excellent albums and elevates them for the live show. Truly, this is the reason people go to see live music. It isn’t just about hearing a song you love, it’s about the physicality and the tangible pieces you can’t feel when you’re at home with the records. If Vastum ever plays near you and you’re a death metal fan, you owe it to yourself to see them. Even if you’ve seen them before. Every time you see them, it’s an experience you’ll be glad you had.

Flyer for Mogwai’s 2025 World Tour

BRAINIAC at Brooklyn Steel, 4/10/25 (supporting Mogwai)

I need to preface this by saying I left this show at 9pm, immediately after Brainiac performed, because I had to wake up at 4:30am the following day for work. It was no slight against Mogwai, but Brainiac is a band I never thought I’d get to see and I was fully comfortable paying the price of a larger act to see a band I love in a support slot. I hope that next time Mogwai makes their way to the states, I won’t have other commitments preventing me from enjoying their show.

Brainiac has enjoyed something of a resurgence in popularity the last few years since the documentary Transmissions After Zero was released, but I didn’t realize I’d get a chance to see them in any form, since chief songwriter and frontman Tim Taylor passed away in the late ‘90s. The surviving members of Brainiac (with help from touring member Tim Krug) pulled together a set that sounded and felt just as intense as any classic footage I’ve managed to dig up online. Drummer Tyler Trent is one of the hardest hitting and most energetic players I’ve ever seen, and guitarist John Schmersal sounded so spot-on in his versions of songs originally delivered by Taylor that it was closer to “the real thing” than I’d expected. They ripped through a stellar mix of songs from each of their records (as well as the Electro-Shock for President EP) with playful, chaotic energy. Many bands inspired by them have learned to ape their intensity or sass, but I can’t think of any that have learned to balance subtly goofy (yet beautiful) songs like “Flypaper” with ragers like “To The Baby-Counter” and “Hot Seat Can’t Sit Down.” Their fusion of sounds still feels ahead of the curve, with noise rock, industrial, punk, and pop leanings all blending together into something uglier and more fascinating than I can properly put into words. While they only graced us with their music for just under 45 minutes, I was so thoroughly worn out from bouncing around the whole time that it felt like a full headlining set. Truly hoping they come back soon to play one for real.

Flyer for Girl Pusher & Kill Alters’ show at Xanadu on April 17th, 2025

KILL ALTERS at Xanadu, 4/17/25 (supporting Girl Pusher)

While I haven’t documented it here on Trauma Angel, friends and longtime readers know I’ve seen Kill Alters probably more than any other band, although it’s been a good year and a half since the last time I caught them. As with the Brainiac show, I was running on minimal sleep due to an early shift, but I couldn’t miss the chance to see live music in a skate rink.

Prior to the live performances, Xanadu held an “ambient skate night” with DJ sets from Texas baby and akafae. The music was alternately soothing and exhilarating, but never too intense, and while I wasn’t willing to risk my safety by skating for the first time in thirty-two years or so, it was so charming to watch everyone cruising around to the beautiful sounds. It felt like a gorgeous fever dream that I wish everyone could experience at least once.

Shortly before the bands began, Xanadu cleared out skaters so that the area could become a dance floor, with a stage for the bands set up in the middle. I love an “in the round” type of performance, and it was great to see one of my favorite bands play in this context. Kill Alters shows have always been a fusion of hyperactive electronic punk, hip-hop, and niche experimental sounds, but they really opened up their repertoire for this show with bizarre droning chants and live guitar-centered songs in addition to the usual synthesized madness. It might’ve been the best performance I’ve seen from them and I can’t wait to see all the exciting new directions they’ll take as they continue to explore without boundaries.

Due to my exhaustion I was only able to stick around for two Girl Pusher songs before I had to make my way home, but for a band I’d never heard prior they immediately caught my attention with a sick harsh vocal performance and nasty breakdown-style drumming. Very much on my “don’t miss them next time” list.

REVIEWS

Mélancolie du Dhampir- Amor

I often forget how much I love black metal in all its chaotic noisy glory. This isn’t because I’m not drawn to it, but because of how often I am reminded that my personal experience with it is more of a private thing than a public experience. Most of my favorite forms of black metal are best experienced alone and I rarely feel interested in engaging in public discourse about it the way I used to. I think it is good to keep some of my passions to myself, but I can’t help but gush about something as beautiful and messy as Amor. Mélancolie du Dhampir is a one-woman project, consisting of C. Dracul of Winter Lantern, Bloodbells Chime, and countless others, but it has its own unique ecstatic flourish that is hard to describe. The whole thing feels like it’s being played with desperation, all slapdash and chaotic, yet it is clearly made exactly as intended. The control and the mastery needed to make something so simultaneously noisy and melodic is evident and I am enchanted by this album. As of now, the label’s got a single copy left on cassette. Perhaps it will be yours?

Dustin Wong- Gloria

I think one of my favorite things about branching beyond the music I wrote about in the days of Black Metal & Brews is that I now spend a lot of time attempting to write about music that I do not understand well enough to describe. Gloria is a record of guitar music that often sounds like it was made by a sentient video arcade. This isn’t just euphoric or giddy experimentation though, there is a soft and loving bent to these songs, inspired by Wong’s departed grandmother. The soundscape may be otherworldly and surreal, but the intent is so direct and so beautiful. A tribute, a celebration. I often find myself too likely to zone out entirely when listening to ambient music, so something as beautiful yet active as Gloria sits wonderfully for me when I’d like peace that can hold my attention. From the gentle, almost pastoral “Memories of Cordelia” to the minimalist glitch-like crawl of “Swimmers with the Pink Urn,” there’s truly so much strange territory covered, yet it remains cohesive all the way through the album’s closing piece, two distinct versions of “Angels We Have Heard On High” that soften and soothe as it all winds down. If someone I loved made an album with a fraction of this thought or beauty as some sort of tribute to me, I’d know that I lived my life well.

Lana Del Rabies- Le Temps Viendra

I’ve been pretty wild about Lana Del Rabies for a while now. 2023’s Strega Beata was one of the best industrial records to come out in ages and I’ll admit I wasn’t expecting a proper new EP so soon, yet Le Temps Viendra is a wonderful display of both familiarity and growth. Haunting in every sense of the word, both beautiful and chilling, these songs include two reworked versions of singles from 2024 and three entirely new pieces to form a complete meditation on Anne Boleyn. It is wrathful, focused, and ultimately begs repeat listens to uncover all its layers, especially as an album with lyrics worth following yet production that often blurs the vocals into extra layers of static warmth. I find myself especially taken by “Anne Boleyn” and “Tender Creatures” but like any good album, it works best in its own continuity rather than as a collection of separate pieces. If you’re not already deeply interested in death industrial, violent experimental music, or noise in general, let this be a guide into the current state of these scenes.

Dax Riggs- 7 Songs for Spiders

2025 truly seems to be the year for Dax Riggs. The unexpected Acid Bath reunion seems to be going wonderfully and he’s just released an EP of new solo material for the first time in fifteen years. I’m not sure what spurred on this sudden activity, but I’m not complaining in the slightest. 7 Songs for Spiders gives a nice sampling of everything Dax is and has been. His voice is as potent and haunting as ever, and his psychedelic lyrical stylings are as cryptic and beautiful as anything he’s ever written, filled with nods to Satan, Jesus, mardi gras, and the night sky. On one hand, “Sunshine Felt The Darkness Smile” feels like if a Beatles song was buried and returned to life on a stormy night, while elsewhere songs like “Even the Stars Fall” and “Graveyard Soul” are rapturous rockers. Riggs’ ability to sway between ballads and heavier music has always been one of his greatest strengths, so an EP with a pretty solid balance between the two is a gift for anyone, whether a curious new listener or an old fan.

Infinity Knives & Brian Ennals- A City Drowned in God’s Black Tears

Another record I lack the proper vocabulary or knowledge to discuss, but one I’m enjoying too much to ignore is the most recent release from Infinity Knives & Brian Ennals. Hip-hop that’s political, playful, and full of twists and turns that keep it feeling fresh and unpredictable from song to song. The title track sways into noise metal territory halfway through, while “Everyone I Love is Depressed” sounds silly on paper (an anti-suicide dance number) but hits so hard, even when it seems to ape the cadence of “Tom’s Diner” for a line or two. On multiple tracks they go in on the genocide in Palestine, casting subtlety aside to directly name the politicians responsible and call it all exactly what it is. The whole thing is a ride that should be draining, but thanks to its fluidity it feels so natural and fun to listen to, even when it gets heavy.

Deafheaven- Lonely People With Power

I understand why people who love extreme music get frustrated when a big band does something (and does it well) and is treated as though they made it up without greater context. There’s one thing a lot of people forget though, and that’s the fact that the band rarely gets to impact the narrative that’s thrown at them by their audiences and writers. Deafheaven has built a career making mostly excellent albums inspired by other artists who are also excellent. That’s a great thing to do and more bands should focus on having such a simple and clear aim. In fact, Lonely People With Power may well be their finest album. It’s vicious at times, gorgeous at others, and it flows wonderfully. George Clarke’s ability to actually sing is welcome alongside the Ihsahn-worshiping rasps rather than as a counterpoint best kept separate, and the band’s songwriting is at its finest. I almost didn’t want to talk about this record because of ~discourse~ but now everyone’s too busy online being mad about Sleep Token instead anyway, so I can just come here to say that Deafheaven is great at what they do and what they do is something I love. I’m far less concerned with the details when the mix of different parts amounts to something so nasty and glorious. Hell yeah.

Rosemary nods upon the grave- EP1

Four songs, ten minutes. Dramatic, beautiful screamo that draws on post-rock and post-hardcore without feeling dated in the way a lot of the ‘90s worshiping stuff can. Although let’s be real, I love the dated stuff too because that’s the age I am. I’m sure there’s reference points in here that are newer and unknown to me, but this is just a timeless sound and it somehow excites me at nearly 38 the same way it would’ve when I was 15. Really hoping for more from these folks soon.

RECENT JOYS

LISTENING

Trepaneringsritualen- Roi Perdu EP

Sometimes you just need to numb your brain with a haunting hybrid of death industrial and eerie folk. I had a couple days in a row maybe two weeks back where I just listened to nothing but static, scrap metal, wind sounds, repetitive rhythms, and distorted vocals. It’s oddly soothing once you let it sink in long enough, but probably does some sort of psychic harm to get you to that point. Too many bands these days call their generic metal shows “rituals” but this feels like you’re witnessing the ceremony before you’re sacrificed to something ancient and evil. You can practically hear reality folding in on itself before the whole thing slithers away into silence. Trepaneringsritualen has come a long way stylistically since this early release, but it was my point of entry to their catalog and remains a favorite to this day

Spiritualized- Pure Phase

One of the more bittersweet joys of time’s swift passage is the beloved and/or dreaded Album Anniversary Tour. I’m not financially equipped to grab tickets to see Spiritualized perform Pure Phase in full later this year, but the announcement got me to spend a week revisiting it heavily. There’s a strong chance it’s my favorite Spiritualized album, which is saying a lot considering how many great albums they’ve released. It’s a masterpiece in pairing minimalism with density and the one constant is how beautifully the whole thing shimmers. I know we’re in the midst of a “shoegaze” revival these days, but the softness around the edges here captures a magic that I haven’t heard replicated by any modern bands (although if you disagree, I’d love to be proven wrong).

Daisy Chainsaw- Eleventeen

I don’t believe I was born at the wrong time, but I sure would give a lot to travel back in time to see more bands of the noise rock/early grunge era playing in their prime. Daisy Chainsaw simultaneously fit in with much of the nastier end of the early ‘90s scene and stand entirely apart from anything else. Their guitarist plays riffs that shouldn’t work and don’t sound like the guitar is even being played like a guitar at times, yet they always rip. Their singer darts from playfully childlike sing-song to throat-shredding howls, sounding more menacing than most “intimidating” metal vocalists. The whole thing is so catchy and so filthy and so fun that I’m not sure why they never took off besides minor hit “Love Your Money.” The live footage I’ve seen of them from back in the day looks raucous and incredible and the whole album hits hard, save for “Natural Man,” which is a bit of an odd one out on an album otherwise filled with rockers. I only got into this band a few years back and it’s already colored so much of what I think about when I dream of creating my own music.

Thinking Fellers Union Local 282- Strangers From the Universe

I’ve been a fan of “outsider” rock bands for most of my life, even before I realized what I was getting into as a child. From Devo to The Residents to The Butthole Surfers or even the previously discussed Sleepytime Gorilla Museum, my impulses have always led me to groups doing something familiar, but in a stranger and more unique way than their peers. I don’t know how I managed to wait until my mid-thirties to come across Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, but their entire thing is somehow finding a way to carve the most enchanting little hooks out of a collection of inaccessible elements. The songs are mostly rooted in rock, but don’t play out according to any conventions. I could almost see them moonlighting as songwriters for power pop artists, because it’s clear they know how to write a hook like nobody’s business, but elect to pad it with the most jarring and noisy sounds possible. For me, that’s preferable to the straightforward approach. Perhaps it’s the same for you. Songs like “The Operation” and “Socket” feel like they must’ve come from another dimension, as I can’t imagine getting people together in a room and writing songs so off-kilter yet so immediate and welcoming. It’s truly a case of musicians making music that they had to have been called to make, since you don’t come to this sort of a sound by trying to “go big” or imitate someone else. I will always love freaky people making the freaky music that haunts their dreams, and Strangers From the Universe is the among the most beautiful noisy little dreams I’ve had in a long time.

EATING

Arizona Sour Watermelon Fruit Snacks

While I’m irritated with Arizona’s painfully tacky decision to make alcoholic Arizona Iced Teas, I am incapable of resisting a sour gummy treat. These aren’t the kind of sour gummies that make me pucker, but the acidity balances out the sugar just enough that I could easily turn off my brain and eat the whole bag in a sitting if I’m not careful. Sometimes it doesn’t need to be more complex than that. These are really tasty.

READING

Entrails Magazine #1

The “Trauma” part of Trauma Angel isn’t just about the decades of mental anguish that I got as a free supplement to the whole “being conscious” thing, it also is a nod to finding beauty and strength on the other side of disability and surgical hell. My life has been permanently torn into periods of “when I was healthy” and “since my ulcerative colitis woke up.” It is such a gift and a joy to have a collection of writing and art from others with conditions just like mine. There is strength, vulnerability, joy, despair, and so much more. Our life experience is just like any other, but there are certain unique challenges that only the chronically ill can understand. What a truly wonderful thing to live in a time where I can feel understood by complete strangers who have experienced the same things. These things I often struggle to put to words are just here for me to see and process. We build a better world when we support each other.

WATCHING

Paddington in Peru

While many of my interests lead me towards unsettling art, I have a well known fondness for Paddington the bear. I weep every time I see a movie with him. I feel it’s at least partially due to his simple kindness in the face of a world that is seldom as kind as it could be. I dream of better futures for all and I take inspiration from many sources, including Paddington. I’ve now seen all three Paddington films and can’t give this a proper critical assessment due to the depth of my own fascination, but I can say that I cried in the theater at a few points in the film and had the most wonderful time. It also made me want to visit Peru, although I doubt I’ll find a charming home for retired bears there. If you haven’t engaged with some form of art or media that delighted your playful inner child lately, I urge you to do it. It’s an important part of being human.

PLAYING

Hollow Knight

I played Hollow Knight all the way through in 2019 when I first fell ill and spent months without really leaving the house. I took great comfort in its surreal world-building, all bug-sized yet somehow vast in its shape and scope. I grew up playing Super Metroid and had always enjoyed the Metroidvania genre of platforming games, but this game took it to the next level for me in so many ways. The controls so fluid, the art and music so gorgeous that I’d often find myself stopping in a new area just to take it in. I played until I completed nearly everything possible and then I played it again in its famed “Steel Soul” mode where a single death marked the permanent end of the game. I haven’t played it all the way through in a few years, but the recent news that we may finally see the long-promised sequel, Silksong, inspired me to revisit these cherished places.

With a few years’ time between me and my early playthroughs, I recalled enough to never feel lost, but forgot enough to still be surprised by a few things, to find new awe in familiar environments. The initial descent into the City of Tears will always rank as one of my favorite “new scenes in a video game,” up there with moments like arriving in Zeal in Chrono Trigger or the first time you enter the world map in Final Fantasy VI and hear Terra’s theme. It’s the perfect balance of somber and peaceful, and that moment alone makes the whole game worth it for me (although it also helps that the gameplay is engaging throughout and the story rich enough in both its general arc and in all the details one can discover by really digging around). While Silksong may still be a nebulous “soon to come” type of prospect, the world of Hollow Knight itself is still rich and rewarding to visit, nearly a decade after its release. I highly recommend you play this if you’ve got even the slightest curiosity about this sort of game.

IN CLOSING

I’ve already begun writing the next edition of Trauma Angel to prevent a recurring issue with timeliness. Fighting against depression, ADHD, and the demands of life outside of writing will always be part of “the deal” with a creative project of this nature, but I’m doing what I can to keep it all together. If you’ve stuck around this far, I’m grateful beyond words. Thanks for reading, thanks especially to the folks that believe in this enough to throw me a few bucks a month, and I’m hopeful that the next newsletter will be even more enriching for you. My life may often feel like a battle against myself, but the people who surround me help make it worthwhile. If you can see these words, I consider you one of them. Thank you.