It’s intriguing how our minds change, and the reasons for that change. Sometimes there are notable moments. Sometimes we only realize we’ve become different people when we look back over the span of years. In college, I started this band alongside several other responsibilities. Being in a punk rock band and working management shifts often led to

It’s intriguing how our minds change, and the reasons for that change. Sometimes there are notable moments. Sometimes we only realize we’ve become different people when we look back over the span of years. In college, I started this band alongside several other responsibilities. Being in a punk rock band and working management shifts often led to a sort of identity crisis. The two aspirations didn’t feel like a logical fit.

For years, I compartmentalized both avenues since I enjoyed them both, and the separate lifestyles received investment at separate times. But the further I get from my college days, the more this perspective strikes me as odd. New experiences tend to compete with both narratives of who I claim to be. Strangely enough, I wrote my thesis about punk culture, and how White suburbanites tended to move away from the culture as they began to work. As I get older, I wonder how many of us think we have make that choice. I think about the trajectory of such things quite often, and I question my confidence that a good life can be lived within those old containers.

I love this music. I love what I do outside of this band. Picking one to give my all seems unnecessarily sacrificial, yet pressure to submit to a singular identity is a regular encounter. Identity narratives are powerful, and probably unavoidable, used to build and validate boxes to challenge ourselves, to guide improvement, and to assess commitment. But when we don’t measure up, when we spill out of our commitments, I wonder if we’re too hard on ourselves. I often see our struggles demonized in those instances, and when self-loathing and denial follows close behind, some walls may be best torn down.
I project into the world differently with every record. Creative empowerment in early lyricism came from sorting through my own experiences.

Though you’ll still catch much of that on this record, I’ve stretched to welcome the uneasiness of writing external narratives. Several songs on the record stem from the experiences of friends or fictional protagonists. In some cases, I chose perspectives that I’ve not much in common. It may seem strange to write this way, but I believe how you permit others to feel can be as revealing as speaking from the heart.
I hope you enjoy Stalemate. The tracks are about the willingness to change our minds about ourselves and others, forgiving ourselves for not being ‘ourselves,’ and forgiving others for not being who we want them to be for our sake. Contradictions are a part of life. Not all of them limit our ability to expand forward.

The record is inspired by a proliferating feeling that the world is getting harder to navigate morally. Falsities are acceptable as warrants for our beliefs, social issues are diluted and polarized until they are palatable for the ill-informed, and confidence in ourselves is replacing the competence of collaboration. As we negotiate circumstances

The record is inspired by a proliferating feeling that the world is getting harder to navigate morally. Falsities are acceptable as warrants for our beliefs, social issues are diluted and polarized until they are palatable for the ill-informed, and confidence in ourselves is replacing the competence of collaboration. As we negotiate circumstances in our lives, we have a plethora of sources to turn to for direction. We can gut-check the moment, or we can turn to science, philosophy, religion, government, our families, etc. -- each has its limits, its agendas, but increasingly, a satisfaction with conversion rather than persuasion. It's personally frustrating, but not confounding or anything...the carrot and stick has always been this effective.

Production:
All tracks written and performed by Poor Me. Sugarcane was engineered by Chris Fogal at Black In Bluhm of Denver, CO. Album artwork by Kodi Hays of Denver, CO.


Special Thanks:

Thanks to our girlfriends, as they have been tremendously helpful with videos, photos, feedback, and the donation of their time. Also a big thanks to Lauren Mills of Mills on Wheels, who helped us roll out a more intelligent game plan to share the record with the world. Chris Fogal, as always, doubled as an engineer and producer to help tighten up and polish the ideas in studio. We obviously recommend the hell out of both Black in Bluhm and Mills on Wheels to any band looking for patient, passionate, and talented music professionals to help share their creativities.

Also, thanks to everyone else we shared the songs with before release. Your support and input is the reason we keep doing this.

Cosplay is a concept album about heroism. A fierce, daily prescription of courage and mettle, or conversely, of fear and dread, can spawn an unshakeable set of behaviors that may forever define us. As we become intimately interconnected with one another, the right time and location to be impactful becomes an incessant here and now. Collectively,

Cosplay is a concept album about heroism. A fierce, daily prescription of courage and mettle, or conversely, of fear and dread, can spawn an unshakeable set of behaviors that may forever define us. As we become intimately interconnected with one another, the right time and location to be impactful becomes an incessant here and now. Collectively, we will continue to be framed by our willingness to challenge or impose things such as violence, but what of our willingness to neutrality, of being present but unwilling to take part - what extrapolations should be made from our indifference? Our mythologies share a consistent interpretation of what makes a hero/ine. These characters shoulder the responsibility of entire communities as the whole world watches, smash fear before it poisons their head, and offer examples of humanist vigilantism while being treated as less than human themselves.

This record introduces some alternative narratives to the well-known comic book characters that we cherish for their larger-than-life occupancies in our own moral systems. The hope is to humanize their heroism, their dissonances, as processes that bear difficult fortitudes. Though their fictional means may be out of reach, their evolving struggle is of an attainable, cognitive capacity. Stimulating idle hands can be terrifying, but so is becoming the villain.

Production:
All tracks written and performed by Poor Me, except where noted below. Cosplay was engineered by Chris Fogal at Black In Bluhm of Denver, CO. Album artwork photographed by Brandt LaScala of Fort Collins, CO. Photo edits by Kyndra Connor of Missoula, MT.

Cello on "Paper Thin Faith" performed by Lief Sjostrom.
'Devil' Keyboard on "A Man to End Worlds" and "Smash it Out" performed by Chris Fogal.
Gang-style vocals on "Vigilante Life," "Taste Takers," and "Why Should I?" performed by Lawsuit Models.

Audio clips:
The Whole World is Watching: Crowd sample from "Occupy Wall Street: Police Brutality as 8000 people take Time Square, 10.15.11," Matt Kazee (YouTube), 2011.
The Whole World is Watching: Spoken clip from "The Century of the Self," produced by Adam Curtis, 2002.

Special thanks:
There are a ton of people to thank at this point, having made innumerable close friends, ones we would have never intersected were it not for this silly band. Specifically, we'd like to thank PRMLL, the Delaneys, Shannon and Mandi. Your contributions were frequent and needed, giving your time, your handiwork, your homes and the best hugs. Thanks to Johnny and Dawn Wilson for letting us use their home to demo a handful of these songs in preparation for studio. Also, our thanks to Johnny for all the PR tips gained from his social media rants and direct advice whenever we asked -- Denver is very lucky to have the Wilsons. We also need to thank Chris Fogal, who has with every encounter, helped us to grow as musicians. His ear for the dark arts has been instrumental in getting this record sounding really, really rad. You're a talented, inspiring human with a golden liver. We also want to thank Lauren Mills, a person we've never met, actually, yet a person that is so warm and supportive, it feels like you've known her your whole life. Lastly, we want to thank a few bands (and the great people that comprise them) that have become family through their willingness to befriend absolutely everyone. Thanks to the boys in Rayner, Lawsuit Models, Sic Waiting, The Windermeres, Allout Helter, False Colours and Party Like Thieves. Lastly, thanks to everyone we surely missed, but will remember after this is printed. Our bad.

The "Readymades" of Marcel Duchamp stand as a message that 'art' cannot be defined, and perhaps the things methodized as artistry blur the line between art and human experience. While focusing on the importance of skepticism, optimism, and integrity, Readymade stresses the importance of introspection as a tool of passive progress.

Production:

The "Readymades" of Marcel Duchamp stand as a message that 'art' cannot be defined, and perhaps the things methodized as artistry blur the line between art and human experience. While focusing on the importance of skepticism, optimism, and integrity, Readymade stresses the importance of introspection as a tool of passive progress.

Production:

All tracks written and performed by Poor Me. Readymade was engineered by Chris Fogal at Black in Bluhm of Denver, CO. Album artwork photographed by Scott Badham of Laramie, WY.

Audio Clips:

Strike A Poseur: Song "Poor Me," written by Johnny Worth / John Barry, performed by Adam Faith. Released by Parlophone, 1960.

Sell Out of Shell Out: A lecture by poet James Baldwin at the Community Church in New York, 1963.

They're Starting Fires: Clips from Workaholics, Season 1, Episode 6, "The Strike." Produced by 5th Year Productions et al., 2011.

Bad Scene: An interview with Ian MacKaye for e-zine, Music4Autobahns, 2009.

Special Thanks:

We can't stand behind this record without first thanking Johnny and Dawn Wilson, co-founders of the For the Love of Punk brand and the most supportive friends any of the members of Poor Me could wish for. Chris Fogal contributed a heap of expert opinion and insight on being better musicians and songwriters. If only he would have contributed his voice, we could be famous. JD Korpitz will always be the guy who keeps our heads level when we start to feel too proud of anything we've done. We all need that influence. Lastly, thanks for everyone we surely missed, but will remember after this is printed. Our bad..