Why it's fun to be a PirateAll of my friends are pirates. I found this out while hanging out at a party the other night. Of all my friends, I have exactly two that don't steal (aka pirate) music in one way or the other. I still don't know how I feel about pirating music, but I do know that it's a big part of how the band makes money so we can keep making music. Interestingly enough, not a single one of my friends have pirated Watching Judas' music, or the music of any indie band they've seen in concert. So how about you? Do you burn copies of CD's for your friends? If you do, why do you do it? No judgments here- just would love to understand : )  Random facts you didn't know about (and don't care about either)1. Christian is responsible for stringing several thousand yards of lights and greenery in downtown St. Charles each christmas. He does it during our christmas break each year. 2. Paul would love to pursue a career in music therapy someday. 3. Dustin Shapiro isn't Italian like most people assume- he's Jewish. 4. Eric has released 2 solo piano christmas albums before he was 17.  Make it a SmallIt took me forever to figure out that people almost never remember the biggest things in their lives. I know I don't. The big deals never seem to impact us proportionally. I guess it's because we're rarely able to connect emotionally to large events in our lives. I can't attach emotionally to hearing about cancer research, but I can when I hear my father has prostate cancer. Maybe that's why I tend to write about the small things in life; the specifics. They symbolize bigger, more intangible emotions that are too vague to describe in a paragraph. My hope is that next time you do the mundane, you take time look at the small things as significant.  If you want something over-simplified, you have to do it yourself.
At least, that's the motto of this website. I think I could have skipped philosphy class if I'd just read this:
http://www.btinternet.com/~glynhughes/squashed/  Sea Chanties and Stage Dives I just was given a concertina. It looks a like this: It's a fascinating little instrument. Somewhere between a harmonica and an accordion. I fell like it's already a fiesty little brother, just begging to be played with. Somehow, I can almost feel the sea breeze streaming through my hair when I pump its bellows. Here's someone that actually knows what they're doing with one:  Lyrics to Mood RingHere's the lyrics to Mood Ring Mood Ring If I was funny If you were charming If we lacked nothing but youth and beauty We're still frail and fleeting As morning dew We fell so hard, so don't blame me I'm just trying to change the color of your mood ring The summer of 67' A smokey drag, a voice from heaven Made me think, that you and me be alright Now you protest my snoring habit And you swear that the day we got cable was one of your happiest When your mother calls You lie and say your just fine The father, Son, and Holy folks, The Beatles took their message to their graves Suburbia takes, Suburbia kills, its name be praised And I feel so stuck here When you said that You'd sold your records I knew now for sure we had nothing to keep us together I sat alone On the basement steps and cried With the windows down And the radio on The Oldies station's cranking out a stagnant song The wind keeps rushing through the darkness as I go numb. The wind keeps rushing through the blackness as I go numb. We fell so hard, so don't blame me I'm just trying to change the color of your mood ring  Lyrics to We Are Astro-Nots
Several people have wanted the lyrics to the two new tracks on our latest CD- here they are:
We Are Astro-nots We are the Astro-nots High up in the sky Look at our spaceship Look how high it flies We know we may crash and die But that's all right We are the Astro-nots Oh look and see We can fly higher Than a man on a trapeze Watch us fall to the earth with the stars Oh Astro-nots We've come so far  The Edge and Beyond I don't think I could ever have a house by the ocean. I'd spend the rest of my life staring out to sea. Something about the sea makes me restless. It makes me yearn for something I can't express. I just feel a longing to be swallowed up by it. The immensity of it impossible. It takes up too much space. My brain computes, overloads, and I am reduced to sitting for hours, straining to find the edge of its dark endlessness. Perhaps the reason I write music is because I can't find a way to express what I feel here, and until I do I'm going to keep trying. I feel like a child throwing stones into the water, hoping to fill up the ocean. Like a foolish child, I'm going to continue.  
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