Setting the scene: Music has always played an important part in my life. My father, who was born in the 40s, grew up on the magic of big orchestral show tunes and moody jazz standards which definitely kickstarted his life-long love of music. From a young age he was quite the audiophile, collecting tons of records across a variety of genres. Needless to say by the time I came into the picture many decades later, I reaped the benefits of this obsession. “Oldies” were the sonic wallpaper of my childhood; the Rat Pack, Ella and Etta, sock-hop, early rock ‘n’ roll, Motown… I ate it all up. It was clear that melody sparked my imagination in a way nothing else could and that a thoughtful or catchy lyric found its way straight to my heart. Still to this day, I am surprised when an obscure song from the 50s pops up and, like a cheery exorcism, it all comes spilling out of me from who knows where.

As a young kid I spent an unhealthy amount of time in my basement choreographing dances and belting the lyrics out to the big pop sensations of the time (Celine Dion, Spice Girls, Whitney Houston). This time alone (or with my younger brother, sorry Paul!) jumping around on the cream carpet eating Handi-Snacks crackers and cheese dip definitely emboldened the performer inside of me.

I always loved singing and being a big ham but never really thought about how those things might manifest later in life, if at all. It wasn’t until high school, when I was going through an intense 80s/punk-rock phase where I really started playing guitar and attempting to write my own songs. I played drums in a The Go-Go's cover band for like three minutes, so most of my early songs were angsty teen rip-offs of “We Got the Beat” or “Head Over Heels”.

Truthfully, acting was the thing that called to me most at the time and I ended up going to theatre school, where I got to log lots of stage time (ham it up even more!) and run around in a leotard doing jazz progressions to Prince. It was great! But making music wasn’t really on my radar…

So! The moment I knew I wanted to make music came later. After a few detours, moves and life experiences, I realized that the dream I was chasing wasn’t my dream after all, and that fundamentally I didn’t feel creatively satisfied or flexible enough to jam myself into the tiny box that acting seemed to be offering me at the time. Blah, blah, blah…

But this disenchantment led me to an important realization. The source bringing me constant excitement and inspiration in my life was obviously MUSIC! Like a dependable umbrella, through various highs and lows, music had always been there; generously offering me shelter from the rain and safety from ominous storms ahead. A portable comfort blanket jammed into my back pocket and blaring through my headphones, new and old melodies wrapped me up in reassurance, allowing me to get lost in my imagination just like I did as a kid spinning around my basement to The Bodyguard soundtrack on repeat. THIS IS THE MOMENT I KNEW I WANTED TO MAKE MUSIC.

I started writing songs, plonking them out on the guitar and recording them very scrappily by myself at home. I loved the process, even though I was learning as I went and kind of sucked (Expert in Shakespeare, novice in GarageBand). I felt more free and connected to my creative side than I had in many years. It was thrilling! And still is to this day. The puzzle of working out a song has become essential to my life and recording music with friends has been a true gift that I am infinitely grateful for. It’s never too late to pivot, dream a new dream and ham it up in a different way!

Comedy sketches, circus acts, cartoons, games and more entertained a live studio audience and national television viewers for decades as Bozo the Clown became a household name. Although Joey D’Auria was the second actor to portray the clown on the Chicago series, he was the unmistakable face for fans of the Millennial generation.

During his career at Capitol Records, businessman Alan W. Livingston was assigned to create a children’s record library. It was there that he created Bozo the Clown, a mascot designed for read-along book sets. The idea was the first of its kind, allowing children to read along to the words and pictures of a book while listening to it. After the creative rights of Bozo the Clown were purchased by Larry Harmon, however, the character became “The World’s Most Famous Clown”.

The Bozo Show aired on WGN Chicago from 1960-2001, with other iterations of the show airing on various television stations in Boston, Washington, D.C. and Grand Rapids. The Chicago franchise was the most popular and successful locally produced children's program in the history of television. The live hour-long show aired weekdays featuring actor Bob Bell as their first Bozo the Clown. He would receive his first Emmy for WGN’s Bozo’s Circus in 1970 and retire in 1984.

An extensive search for the next Bozo the Clown brought forth actor and writer Joey D’Auria. He would go on to play Bozo, as well as become the head writer of The Bozo Show, until the show’s cancellation in 2001.

Photo courtesy of Robert Georgeff

I came from a very athletic family on my mom’s side. My grandpa played in the Canadian Football League and my uncle played professional hockey. My mom was also a natural athlete and I was too; I did inherit that from them. When I was in elementary school, I would win the city championships for track and field every year. I won the athletic award at my graduation. Even with all that athletic ability, music has always been my true passion. I grew up loving Michael Jackson and I would dance like him, wear one glove and I even had the red “Thriller” jacket. My dad was a drummer - not a professional one - but he was a good player.

My dad got me my first real drum kit for Christmas when I was 8 years old but his kits were always around before that. When I got good enough to play along to songs, I would put headphones on and play to Led Zeppelin, Jimi Hendrix and eventually Nirvana and Rage. I was never into super technical music. I always loved catchy songs or music with a certain swagger and attitude.

Music has always been in the forefront of my thoughts. From a young age I was drawn to musicians for their fashion and attitudes. I got obsessed with Beastie Boys when I was young and they still have a huge influence on my style; their music never gets old to me. It always puts me in a good mood.

I guess what I’m trying to say is there was a lot of push for me to become an athlete, and until I won my first Juno with my band July Talk, I’m pretty sure my whole family thought I was wasting my time and messing up my life. But music has always been in me and it’s definitely my passion.

I am more hungry than ever to make music. I sometimes have to stop myself from working on songs because it’s honestly all I want to do other than hang out with my daughter. I love it!!!!

In a collection of essays by writer and journalist Joan Didion, its title, Slouching Towards Bethlehem, was inspired by the W.B. Yeats poem, “The Second Coming”. The poem describes a vision of the second coming of Christ, with the final two verses stating:

And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,

Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

The preface of Didion’s book spoke to musician and alt-comic Will Wood in a way he didn’t quite expect. When he announced his 2023 album, In Case I Die, as his final release, his plan was to separate the artist from the human. It turned into a two year hiatus and a comeback featuring his most scripted performance to date.

His solo performances typically featured theatrical and comedic elements, but Slouching Towards Branson was far more structured than anything he had done before. It is more than a concert film or a comedy special, but a project filled with semi-fictional storytelling and beloved songs from across his discography. The show explores Wood’s experiences during his creative hiatus through a comedic yet occasionally dramatic lens, touching on personal revelations and absurd encounters, exploring themes of belief, morality and living through cultural upheaval.

“It was the biggest and arguably most important tour of my life, and when it was a few months out I realized I owed it to myself and the audience to give everyone my biggest and most concerted effort,” he said.

On his journey to rediscover who Will Wood the human was, he realized that the fictionalized version of himself that his audience knew needed to be eliminated. It was important that he express himself in a way that distances him from the way he had previously been perceived.

“You’ll never reach the people you’re meant to reach if you try to sustain the interest of people you aren’t,” he said. “Not that I’m going out of my way to push back, more that I’m working hard to push forward. Become more and more myself.”

From an artistic point of view, Slouching Towards Branson shares messages of forgiveness, acceptance, and the value of letting go and letting life live you. A crucial element of getting those messages across involved Wood’s frequent collaborator, Jake Feldman. His vision has brought to life music videos for “White Noise” and “Sex Drugs Rock n Roll”, and his dedication to the craft is exactly what Wood needed when it came to filming this tour.

Filming Slouching Towards Branson was always the plan, but releasing it was another idea altogether. Wood knew that there was a chance the show would not be well received. That worry was felt in a major way when he dealt with poorly behaved audiences that disrupted the show by shouting over him, pounding their fists against their tables or placing objects on the stage.

A few disrespectful people did not stop the majority of shows being a “wonderfully fulfilling, intimate experience.” Wood’s plan to move away from his fictionalized self worked.

“The most rewarding moments were when I was able to pause on the more emotional lines in the show and really feel the silent potential energy coming off the audience,” he said. “Big laughs are always fun, and when a particularly opinionated joke gets applause is rewarding, but knowing I hit something deeper is an incredible experience. I am an energy vampire.”

In the preface of Slouching Towards Bethlehem, Didion writes, “I had been paralyzed by the conviction that writing was an irrelevant act, that the world as I understood it no longer existed. If I were ever to be able to work again, it’d be necessary for me to come to terms with disorder.” Will Wood has come to terms with his life as an artist. Will there be another time in his life where stepping away is the key to finding himself again? Maybe. He recognized that it is part of the journey, and with an authentic Will Wood at the center of the stage, anything can happen.

Photo courtesy of Dana Gorab

Hey, Mario here from Take It Or Leave It, and I want to tell you guys about the time I was overwhelmed with emotions from seeing Goldfinger at Starland Ballroom.

It’s fair to say that I cannot hear Goldfinger’s “Superman” by them and not immediately think of dropping into the warehouse in Tony Hawk Pro Skater. I always make it a point to see them when they come to town and this time was no different. It was late June and for my 21st birthday, a few friends and I decided to head to Sayreville, N.J. to see Goldfinger while they made their way east from California. At the time, I was in a band playing similar music (we loved covering “Spokesman”) and all I could think about while standing in the pit was being on that stage one day.

About halfway through the set, lead vocalist John Feldmann put his guitar down and started singling out people wearing yellow or gold to come up on stage with him. Luckily for me, I was donning my bright yellow Pikachu shirt and was summoned to the stage. Now, my buddy Dylan and I have been going to shows for years and he knows the look I give him when I want to crowd surf. As soon as we made eye contact, I was immediately six feet in the air flying forward. Eventually I surfed through the surge of people flocking to the stage and just had a blast dancing and screaming my lungs out.

As the song was coming to an end, security started pulling folks to the sides of the stage to get them out of the way. The house lights were on and you could tell the staff at Starland Ballroom wanted to get that stage cleared as soon as possible. I happened to be stuck in the middle of the group, so after a few left down the side of the stage, I found myself standing next to John Feldmann. He gestured out to the crowd and mouthed “do it” to me, with a stage diving gesture. He took a step off the box he was standing on at the edge of the stage and gave me the all-clear to take a dive.

I’ve been to a lot of shows and I’ve watched plenty of mistakes from inexperienced crowd surfers, so I knew to lock eyes with a few people in the crowd to catch me. Guess who was right up front waiting for me? Yup, Dylan. He grabbed three random dudes next to him and everybody put their arms out to catch me.

It felt like I fell for an eternity and a millisecond all at once. Not only did I finally get to go on stage at Starland Ballroom, but I got to join Goldfinger up there too?! Plus, I got the seal of approval from John Feldmann for a stage dive?! I was so overwhelmed the rest of the night that I don’t even think I slept when we got home. And the cherry on top, they weren’t even the headliner! Not only did Big D And The Kids Table open for them, but Reel Big Fish closed out the show. It was one of those nights I will remember forever and I chase that high every time I step on stage to perform my own music now.

View the full photo gallery here.

To celebrate 25 years as a band, Simple Plan decided to invite some of their closest friends to share the stage for the Bigger Than You Think! Tour. A cool night thanks to the Lake Michigan breeze, with the Chicago skyline as the backdrop, made for an ideal summer show.

The evening was an upbeat mix of American and Canadian punk rock, starting with singer-songwriter LØLØ. Bringing her music videos to life, songs such as “debbie downer” and “DON’T!” gave the audience a chance to swing shiny red pom poms and dance with a silver robot. Her set was much more than a performance; it told a story. Sonically, sound effects strategically placed alongside the instrumentals felt as though the audience was transported into her own version of Oz. Her live band and she fought off invisible enemies, ducked past nonexistent flying objects and used every inch of the stage to bounce with the crowd.

Following LØLØ was 3OH!3, who paid homage to their Canadian tour mates by sporting head-to-toe denim ensembles.

“We are here for a formal event with some important people,” they said about their outfits before performing their latest single, “SLUSHIE”.

Their performance was just as chaotic as their music, in the best way possible. The audience consistently had their hands in the air, displaying the hand gesture synonymous with the duo. In addition to their new song, they performed classics such as “Double Vision”, “My First Kiss” and “Don’t Trust Me” supported by The Summer Set’s Jess Bowen on drums and Teenage Wrist’s Marshall Gallagher on guitar.

Writing alone can give someone the confidence to share personal, emotional pieces of themselves that can be translated through fiction or non-fiction. Author David Ellis compares that first time of showing somebody that writing to “putting your heart on a chopping block and handing someone a cleaver.” He recalls the first time he shared his writing, hoping he would not be told to find a different hobby. Instead, he became an award-winning author of crime fiction novels.

A typical day in the life of Ellis starts around 3:30 in the morning. A few hours before his wife and children wake, he sets aside this time to write. For the rest of the day he is a husband, father and judge of the Illinois Appellate Court. His legal background gives him an understanding of the legal system, courtroom dynamics and criminal behavior that contribute to the intricate details of his stories.

Another topic that he is familiar with is the city of Chicago, so it comes to no surprise that it is the primary backdrop of his novels. From growing up in the western suburbs to living and working in the heart of the city, Ellis enjoys incorporating the places that he knows and loves.

“Chicago is a great place to set a story in my opinion because it’s both a big city and a small town,” he said. “You still have a lot of people in Chicago with midwestern values, but it’s a huge city where anything is possible and any crime is believable.”

His latest book, The Best Lies, showcases both of those topics as protagonist Leo Balanoff finds himself in a predicament as his fingerprints show up on a murder weapon. The crusading attorney has two principal traits: he has an outsized sense of fairness and justice, and he is a diagnosed pathological liar. When he will stop at nothing to wrong a right, that includes not always being truthful.

When writing his first novel, Line of Vision, Ellis had no prior knowledge of the publishing industry. His finance degree did not involve creative writing or literature courses. He did not know a single writer, publisher or editor to ask for advice. Instead, he wrote and rewrote until he felt like he was seeing an improvement. He was willing to put in the work to see what all he could accomplish.

One of the most important lessons Ellis has learned is to put the reader first. He credits co-author James Patterson for making sure the lesson stuck, saying that thinking about the reader at all times will determine whether or not what is being written will be positively received. The key is to not overwhelm the reader with too much information on a particular subject because they might not share the same level of interest as the writer.

That was his thought process as he researched pathological liars for The Best Lies. That area of psychology is not concrete, so it allowed Ellis to have some freedom in his writing without the worry of misleading or misrepresenting.

“I don’t mind challenging the reader, giving them tough issues to deal with, as long as it’s done in a way that’s entertaining,” he said. “There are all these decisions you have to make as a writer constantly; in every chapter, on every page, you’re making decisions. When is the reader going to get bored? When do you cross that line between giving them enough until they feel like they’re really in the moment or they really understand but without saying too much?”

What is paramount to Ellis is that the reader has fun. It may sound like an elementary task, but it took him a while to get to a place where he recognized the importance of enjoyment. His books are giving the reader an escape in a world that is currently quite complex and difficult. In whatever way he can deliver that, he will try his hardest.

That is not to say that writing is not an enjoyable experience for him. In fact, it is his sheer love for writing that keeps him motivated to pursue it as well as serve for the First District. He admits that the pace can be difficult, but certainly not impossible.

“I am willing to do whatever I have to do so that I can have jobs that I love,” he said. “I can’t even tell you how lucky I feel about that, and I think about that every single day. On my worst day as a writer or my worst day as a judge, I still think this is better than anything else I can do.”

Photo courtesy of Jotam Michael

My journey into music began in the later years of high school, where I took my first tentative steps into performing. However, it wasn’t until my second year of university that music truly became something more meaningful. During a deeply introspective experience - shared with close friends and enhanced by the kind of spontaneous self-discovery university years often bring - I came to a powerful realization: I wanted music to be a permanent part of my life. Singing became an outlet for me; it was the one thing that consistently helped ease my anxiety and bring me peace.

Not long after that, I met Kirk and Vanessa, who were starting a music club at Brock University called GoLive. That club quickly became a major part of my life. It gave me a sense of community and introduced me to others in the local music scene. Over time, I became more involved - eventually performing in and around the St. Catharines and Niagara music circuit.

After graduating and moving to Toronto for full-time work, I found myself missing the creative outlet that music provided. I joined a band that didn’t end up working out, but it led me to our current drummer, Luis. From there, everything began to fall into place. We connected with Vincent and Alex, and that's when Eleven Minutes Late was officially born.

Performing live - especially in packed bars with crowds singing the lyrics back to us - has been one of the most rewarding experiences. Even more meaningful is seeing people connect with our original music. That excitement fueled our desire to keep writing, which eventually led to the creation of our self-titled EP.

This EP is eclectic by design. Each track explores different sounds, energies and moods. It’s been a creative exploration for all of us, and we’re proud of how it turned out. We hope you enjoy listening to it as much as we enjoyed making it - and we’re excited to share more music with you soon.

- Wasim, vocalist/rhythm guitarist

For as long as I can remember, music has been a huge part of my life. As a kid, my parents kept a CD case in the back seat with many of the albums that would define my childhood and early teenage years. The first time I ever saw someone play the guitar and really sound good I knew that I wanted to learn how to do it too. I didn’t pick one up and seriously try to learn until I was about 12 though, on an old Squier Stratocaster my dad had but hadn’t touched in years. I put new strings on it and began to find YouTube videos to play songs I thought sounded easy. The Ramones, Green Day and Nirvana taught me all about power chords and made it feel easy to get encouraged and play along.

In middle and high school I became very involved in school band where I played clarinet for a few years before switching to drums and percussion. In my final two years of high school, I also played in the pit band for the school musical (The Wiz and The Sound of Music, if you’re curious). When I was 15 I joined my first band outside of school with some friends from band class. I came on as a bass player and we played at some very small venues in Toronto like The Cavern or Cinecycle. The fondest memory I have from a show with that band was playing at the supermarket one night to an admittedly lacklustre crowd. I was 17 or 18 at the time and had never played somewhere that nice without the school band.

Around 2018 I was no longer in that band, and didn’t play much music for a few years afterwards. It wasn’t until 2022, when things began to start feeling normal again after the craziness of 2020 and all that followed. I began to look for other people to play with, this time as a guitarist, since I really missed the feeling of playing live. I met with a lot of great musicians but putting together a functioning band that’s driven towards the same goal is no easy task.

When I first auditioned for the band that would eventually become Eleven Minutes Late, I was asked to learn a handful of cover songs and meet at a rehearsal studio in the city. After two rehearsals they asked me to join the band that had yet to be named. We found a bassist, voted on a name and gigged as much as we could with the covers we’d learned. After about a year we started writing, then hit the studio to record our first EP. Since then we’ve written much more and are incredibly excited to see what the future holds as we progress as a band and as musicians.

- Vincent, lead guitarist

I was about 9 or 10 when my parents signed me up for music school. It wasn’t my idea - my cousin was going and they figured I should tag along. At first, I wasn’t thrilled. The endless repetition of scales and exercises felt more like homework than fun.

Then came the moment that changed everything. One day, I managed to piece together my own beat. It wasn’t perfect, but it was mine. The sound came alive under my hands, and I felt a rush - like I was on top of the world. That feeling has been hard to recreate ever since, but it planted a seed. Music wasn’t just an activity anymore; it was something I wanted to chase.

Fast-forward about a decade. I moved to Canada, carrying that spark with me. I joined a few bands, hoping to take music more seriously. At first, it was exciting - new people, new songs, new energy. But the same thing kept happening: after a few months, the bands would dissolve.

That’s when I realized I couldn’t just wait to find the “perfect” band - I had to build it myself. After plenty of trial and error, I found the right people: Wasim, Vincent and our former bassist, Alex. We clicked instantly, and Eleven Minutes Late was born.

We started with covers to build our chemistry, but soon moved to writing our own songs. That creative process brought back the same thrill I felt making that first beat - only now, it was amplified by the shared vision of a committed group.

Now we’re working on our upcoming EP, and every song feels like another step toward the dream that started in that small music school room years ago. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this: the right people and the right passion can turn a single spark into something that lasts a lifetime.

- Luis, drummer

I suppose my journey of music began with kindergarten, being shown “Yellow Submarine” at an early age. It was pretty crazy stuff to show a 4-year-old. But whether I knew it or not, that would instill in me the first love of my life, and to my eternal debt, I had always been around good music as a kid. My parents played The Who and Led Zeppelin, and I would only come to love this music as I got older. Unfortunately, from when I was born to about 17, absolutely nothing significant happened in my life. I went to school, did my homework, played video games and occasionally did some troublemaking on the weekends. I don't often look back at this time either, as the significant stuff would all come later.

My parents, for many years, tried to get me to play some sort of music. I did the piano lessons as a kid, which was undoubtedly the impetus for most kids to never play another musical note again. Then, I did school band on the saxophone, which I absolutely hated. Looking back, I’m not sure why… Maybe because it wasn’t cool enough. In high school is where it really reached a tipping point. My dad had gotten me a little audio interface, to which my immediate reaction was, “What am I supposed to do with this?”, followed by my high school graduation gift of an electric guitar, which warranted the same reaction. Then COVID hit, and being locked in a room for a year is a great way of learning a new skill.

I had started playing the guitar and piano a little while before going to university. I started seeing a girl who had a class where she had to record a four-track song. She seemed stressed by this, so I thought I’d volunteer to record it for her. I had brought this audio interface with me, which I had never used before, but it couldn't be that hard to use, right? As soon as I set it up and was about to hit record, she called me and told me she didn’t want to see me anymore. Bummer, but I had already set this thing up, and maybe it was being alone in a dorm room during COVID, maybe it was the hatred of my new program, maybe it was the intake of the Beatles in my early life, but something changed in me that first day I hit record. 

Neighbors of Mike Chick are quite used to - and encouraging of - the noises coming from his garage studio. Alongside bandmates Biff Swenson, Dana Yurcisin, Nicole Scorsone and Rudy Meier, their home base for writing and recording the latest release from Yawn Mower was consistently occupied with sound.

I Just Can’t Wait To Die is their first group effort as a five-piece, which started with a Google Drive full of late-night voice memos and loose concepts for melodies. An entire tour was spent combing through it all, working out each idea until 10 tangible songs presented themselves. They brought those 10 songs to Chicago, playing a week’s worth of shows to test out the material.

“It was cool because you also got early crowd reactions,” Meier said. “We would play and we could see the ones that everyone seemed to like [or] maybe we got to work on this one a little more.”

Even when Chick was out of town, the band was using the studio space. In fact, a demo he had written years prior was fully fleshed out by the time he returned. Another time, he left the room and heard them jamming what eventually became the bridge of another song that made the album. Although he is the primary songwriter, this creative process was equal. Collaboration was encouraged, resulting in taking a few left turns that original members Chick and Swenson probably would not have taken on their own. It wasn’t without its disagreements, but in a more lighthearted than hostile way.

“We got out the other side of all of that with something that everyone is hyped on,” Swenson said. “No one’s looking back in anger. No important idea was scrapped.”

The drums were first to be recorded, followed by three days of Scorsone’s parts. Vocals were knocked out in a day. The majority of production was completed by Yurcisin and Meier. There was no need for hiring studio musicians as they intentionally wanted everyone represented throughout each song.

“We were actively trying to write the thing that pleased us as the player while serving the song,” Swenson said. “Which is why it was a year-long process of trying to figure out how to maneuver being a five-piece band as opposed to Mike and I just throwing shit at a wall and telling everyone this is it.”

They honestly enjoyed the recording process because they got to both highlight their skills and improve them at the same time. Each member plays multiple instruments, and Meier said that was helpful for brainstorming as they could easily comprehend what the other person was trying to do.

“You want to [always] show up with your best foot forward, but it’s nice that if you don’t there’s four other people who are equally, if not more, talented,” Swenson said.

Choosing the first three singles was a no-brainer. “Rascal” was the perfect introduction to their current sound. “Geothermal Springs” was the most diverse when it came to their collective talents. “New Years at the Airport” felt the most like it was worthy of becoming a single.

Another song that Yurcisin believes really demonstrates their range is “$12 & A Winepress”, which was written about Chick’s grandparents. The song’s lyrics are where the album title comes from, which was a struggle to decide if that was the right choice. Yurcisin swears that was his choice from day one, while the others took turns going back and forth on their vote for a while. Scorsone remembers laughing when she first received the text suggesting that title, thinking it perfectly highlighted the humor sprinkled into the album. At a certain point, it was clear that I Just Can’t Wait To Die was the only choice.

The videos that have been released alongside the singles showcase their talents outside of music. With members who also work as illustrators, designers and editors, their DIY approach to the band allows their fans to understand them better.

“There’s no way you’re going to watch one of these videos one time and catch it all,” Swenson said. “I feel like the videos do a really good job of showing not only did the band grow in numbers, not only did the songwriters quadruple, but the videos are the same way. If you’ve seen our old videos, they’re just as fun and loose and they paint a picture of what it’s like hanging out with us. This time it’s as overstimulating as an actual conversation [with us] would be.”

The ten songs are not meant to tell a single story or send a certain message. If there is a theme, it is that life exists. The listener may hear inside jokes amongst the band, observations from walking their dogs or unbelievable sights from tour. Chick said that he used to think he needed to have an entire story - complete with beginning, middle and end - in order to complete a song. These days, each line in a verse can be a different story.

“That’s what I like the most about [Chick’s] songwriting,” Yurcisin said. “I couldn’t possibly tell anyone else what a theme for this record is, but depending on the listener, you can have 40 different takeaways from even some real, literal, basic descriptions.”

Yawn Mower’s five-piece lineup means five different voices coming through each track of I Just Can’t Wait To Die. They challenged one another to make an album that was equally their own and succeeded.

“I think this record is a really good way to hear all of our personalities very clearly,” Chick said. “Maybe it’s just because I’m so close to it. When I listen I can clearly hear Biff’s influence, I clearly hear Dana, Rudy, Nicole… and everything melts with our personalities too. It’s cool to hear on a record because we were playing for two years together before that but they were all older songs. We had all this open space so now with everybody just putting their ideas together I think it came out pretty good.”