courtesy of Fred Pessaro

I have a terrible memory. It’s a fact. At the end of the night, I usually have several small pieces of paper and a full (iPhone) notepad of names that sometimes I remember, sometimes I don’t. I am constantly surrounded by people who know exactly who played with what band at that warehouse space in 2003, what they played, and maybe even what I was wearing. I can barely remember what I ate four hours ago.

There is one memory that is forever burned in my brain, though, and it happened close to four decades ago. My dad is the strong and silent type, an army guy with two Vietnam tours under his belt and a conveniently poor memory about what it was like. The language of music was our strongest bond; I recall listening to everything from Black Sabbath to ELO to Elton John and on and on with him. One of my most distinct memories was when I was 4 or 5, sitting cross-legged on a carpet, playing with my toys while my dad folded laundry nearby. The reel-to-reel was spinning one of his then-favorite albums, Pink Floyd’s The Wall. After humming along with “Another Brick in the Wall (Part 2),” he taught me how to sing along with the all-children's chorus of “We don’t need no education.” As soon as I had figured it out, my mom came down the stairs and was livid that I, not even in preschool, had learned that section of the song. I think it was then that my love for rock was born. Sorry, ma.

In 2010, I started a small label that put out two records by one band. I had never pressed a record, let alone promoted one in any real sense, and the only reason I took on this challenge was because of my love for the band and their ethos — a return to the old school … vinyl only! To my chagrin, most of those records ended up selling, and it was then that I started to truly understand the intricacies of DIY, punk and the network that lies beneath. That label was called Clairvoyant Recordings.

When I started writing on a professional level around a decade ago, the word “journalism” had a very different definition. Since then I’ve seen titans fall, the news cycle race toward near-farcical levels, the rise of troll journalism, and trends that come, go and come back again. But one thing has always remained constant: my desire to push the envelope and tell the story that isn’t being told about a band that you aren’t talking about now, but you soon will be.

This is our mission at CLRVYNT: to serve the rock communities as best we can. Despite the ridiculous think-pieces that you see day in and day out, we believe that rock is not dead, never will be, and is only getting more challenging and interesting every single day. Trends come and go, but as we’ve seen time and time again, movements start when a genre is seemingly at its lowest point — look at the reverence given to names like Kool Herc, Darkthrone and Neutral Milk Hotel. Good music of every type has always existed; it just depends on how hard you want to look for it.

CLRVYNT will treat indie darlings with the same reverence as our favorite hardcore vocalists, metal guitar virtuosos and noise technicians. We will give you the stories behind some of the most creative minds of our time, the fresh faces and the ones that influenced legions. New bands. New genres. New perspectives. Today is the first day of our long campaign toward a new future in music, one that challenges, provokes and treats rock with the respect that it deserves. Join us.

Photo by the Author