Jumpship People,

It occurs to me that I need to write something that immediately grabs one’s attention. Perhaps something controversial. Something with panache and style and grandeur. But I won’t. Because this is a blog. A blog about nothing. Well, it’s technically about Jumpship Astronaut, but I usually end up going on some tangential rant about spaghetti or Donny Most, so it’s probably fine.

I should mention that ol’ JSA just finished recording and mixing a five-song EP with the Coke Zero and Aquafina-addicted former guitarist for Chainsaw Kittens and Flaming Lips producer Trent Bell. We’ll be mastering it next week and we’re working with the good people over at The Society on photography and cover art. Spring 2013 is a good estimation of when the record will be out and, odds are, it’ll be available online first. So gird your loins, children, as my grandma always used to say (she could still say it, for all I know. She’s been dead since 1999, but I imagine the crypt is a strange, whimsical place where such statements are not only encouraged, but necessary).

We’re playing a show this weekend at the HiLo in Oklahoma City with Feathered Rabbit, which should be fun. The HiLo is one of those dark, smoky places that bring out the deviance in everyone, so I’m sure it’ll be good once the booze starts pouring and the music and lights start up. Plus, we’ve got a ton of upcoming shows throughout the area, so keep your eyes open, crazies.

Now that the business is out of the way, I want to talk briefly about the use of recitative in Mozart’s later operas. Just kidding, I’m going to talk about butts. Big ol’ luscious butts. Actually, I’m not going to do that either (but I am now thinking about big, luscious butts). See, this is exactly what I meant when I previously wrote about my inclination toward the tangential. I honestly wasn’t sure what else I was going to write about, so I thought, “Just wing it, Ryan! Something good will come of it” and here we are. It’s an odd thing when you sit down to write something with almost nothing prepared. Believe it or not, I usually plan out what I’m going to share with you lovely, dirty people. But tonight, I thought I’d do something a little different. This is the textual equivalent of amateur free jazz or a jam band that’s on minute 13 of the same meandering E minor vamp. Fun fact: I do pretty mean impressions of Christopher Walken and Casey Kasem. I’ve got an okay Jeff Goldblum that I feel gets the spirit of the guy right, but it’s pretty lacking in execution. Did any of you guys ever see The Fly? That was Goldblum’s finest hour. And, speaking of The Fly, I have an insatiable sexual attraction to young Geena Davis. You show me A League of Their Own or Thelma and Louise or even Beetlejuice and I’ll show you a man with an occasional erection. This is all you’re getting, guys. If you’re still reading this, then you’re either a masochist or my mother.

Diarrhea Chimney,

Ryan

Insatiable Jumpship Astronaut Enthusiasts,

We’ve been slaving away on a new EP for you lovely people, working with the great white hope Trent Bell. We’re finally in the mixing stage, so we’re hoping to deliver some aural pleasures some time after the new year, so keep your ears open.

Speaking of the new year, Jumpship Astronaut is playing at Belle Isle Brewery in Oklahoma City on New Year’s Eve. Now I’m no Dick Clark (yet), but I’ll try to be as alcoholically charming. I also anticipate committing several mortal sins that night, so make it a point to show up. We should have a fancy new light rig, as well. Expect a lot of accidental babies to be born on September 31, 2013.

Well, a new EP means new shows, new photos, new lights, new kidneys, new everything. Bask in the novelty! Some new, sexy something will be happening a lot in the coming months for ol’ Jumpship, so gird your loins because the kids are horny and they need music to sex each other to.

I don’t really have much else to write about. Our drummer Austin got an amateur tattoo on his ass recently, so there’s that. Our guitarist David eats a lot of kale and sleeps 21 hours a day. I could probably rattle off a lot of Jumpship facts, but I won’t.

Babies with AIDS,

Ryan

Hello, Jumpship enthusiasts.

We’ve had a tremendous time playing for you delightful people as of late. Every time a dance party breaks out and I see people singing along with me, my heart grows three sizes (which is really detrimental to my health according to most cardiologists I’ve spoken to). We’re working on recording some new music, so expect that on the ol’ internet soon.

I want to write briefly about my beloved Gibson Les Paul, Beulah, and her grisly half-decapitation at Kamps. Due to how egregiously cheap I am, I’ve been using a lackluster guitar stand for the past year or so. Now, if any of you have seen one of our shows, I’m picking up my guitar and putting it back on the stand willy nilly throughout any given performance. Naturally, the stand gave out (as it was likely made by Laotian children out of horse bones and baby teeth) and sent Beulah spiraling toward the abyss. If this episode has taught me anything, it’s that I should probably be more cognizant of the quality of any given thing I purchase, whether that’s a guitar stand or the roofies Chris, our synth player, likes to mix with his PCP. 

On a brighter note, we’re returning to Stillwater to play the College Bar with Admirals and Hormones on Friday the 31st. And then we’re back to OKC to play the Blue Note on Saturday the 1st with Tele Mori. I’m going to continue to whore our schedule, so bear with me: Friday, September 7th, we’re playing the Opolis in Norman with a litany of bands and Saturday the 8th, we’ll be at Belle Isle in OKC with The Grown Ups.

Sorry about the AIDS,

Ryan

Hello,

You may have forgotten entirely about the existence of a Jumpship Astronaut blog. It would seem I have as well, hence the egregious lack of updates. It feels like a decade has passed since I last spent an evening recounting our shenanigans, but here I am again, full of vigor and whatever the hell else. Most recently, we played at the Society’s anniversary show, which was good fun and this Friday, August 17, we’ll be at Kamps Lounge in Oklahoma City with Tele Mori and An Airbag Saved My Life. There are many more shows coming up, but I’ll get into those in future posts. Right now, I’d like to talk about two things: recording and 1920s slang.

First, 1920s slang. There’s something to be said for the way people (supposedly) used to talk in the Prohibition Era. My only meaningful exposure to it is from movies and Ken Burns documentaries. Everyone seemed to talk much quicker and with a ton of incomprehensible phrases, which I’ve spent too much time researching and committing to memory. Thanks to one drunken conversation, Jumpship Astronaut now regularly uses said slang as a primary form of communication. What was once a normal group of men is now a gang of fellas who spend all their free time talking about leggy dames named Doris and using phrases like, “the bank’s closed, see!” and “don’t take any wooden nickels!” and “now you’re on the trolley!” All of them necessarily end with exclamation marks. This may seem a little strange and that’s because it is. We even researched some 19^th century slang, as well, no doubt hoping for a similar cornucopia of expressions. However, this wasn’t too fruitful. Fun fact: most slang from the 19^th century had to do with farming (notably corn), which, as you can imagine, is far less applicable. Anyway, if you happen to see us meandering around the ol’ gin mill, give us an “and how!” or a “now listen here, you!” and we’ll return the favor. Unless you’re some kind of bug-eyed betty, of course.

We’ve been working on a few new recordings, which we’ll put up on the ol’ interwebs in the coming weeks. So keep an eye out for them. In the meantime, feel free to come to a show or six and follow us on Twitter (@JShipAstronaut).

Try not to die,

Ryan

Greetings, delightful Jumpship Astronaut enthusiasts. (It occurs to me that I should probably come up with a name for our fans, so as to have something consistent to put on these blog posts. But I won’t because fuck it.)

Many wacky days have passed since I last posted here, so I’ve got a lot to cover. I want to start with Norman Music Festival last week. I didn’t see any shows Thursday and I only caught Pretty Black Chains on Friday, but they were phenomenal, as always. As is common during festivals in Norman, there were a ton of hippie-types longing for an impromptu Phish gig to serendipitously materialize before them. But, having to largely settle for bands who write and rehearse songs before they perform them live, several of them managed to make it out to see Pretty Black Chains. A few even brought a snake to dance around with in front of one of the speaker mains. And, as everyone knows, snakes love heavy bass frequencies (if the Simpsons has taught me anything). I imagine it was only trying to crawl out of their hands because it wanted to score some hash before the next band started.

Saturday night at NMF was incredible, especially the shows after Portugal. The Man’s performance. The back-to-back assault of Broncho, Evangelicals and Chrome Pony at the Blackwatch stage was goddamn amazing. If you’re reading this and you haven’t seen any of the aforementioned bands: a pox upon you!

After a few fairly grueling rehearsals, we played the Deli in Norman on May 3^rd with Saucy Gentlemen’s Club, which was a good time, although I’m beginning to think the Deli regulars really don’t know what to make of us. At least, that’s the impression I get (but we’ve always got the Nevada Gentleman to fall back on). We’re going to win you over, damn it, hopefully without having to start playing Hosty or Montu covers.

Then, two days later, we played Iguana’s 9^th Street Block Party with Pretty Black Chains followed a couple of hours later by a (fucking great) show at the Blue Note with Bobgoblin. We all consumed more tacos and tequila than one band should. I’m certain we ate an entire goat and, at one point, I think I saw a man die. And after the Blue Note gig, I drunkenly ended up at the Copa, which is always a great anthropological opportunity for a straight guy. I paid $11 for a Red Bull and vodka, got my ass slapped by a very affectionate and delightfully joyous lesbian who looked a little like the tiny lady from Poltergeist and was told my shirt was cute by a burly stranger in a convertible. So I guess mark it as a solid weekend.

After a couple more weeks of rehearsals, we’re returning to the Crystal Pistol in Tulsa on May 18^th, followed by another Deli show on the 19^th, and then shows in at Hailey’s in Denton, TX and at the Paseo Arts Festival on the 26^th and 27^th respectively. Plus, a lot more to come in June and July. So stay on your toes.

Take ‘er easy!

- Ryan

Our lovable guitarist, David Lawrence, who regularly hears the voice of Satan.

Hello delightful Jumpship Astronaut fans from across the globe (but primarily in Mexico and Brazil, where we’re slowly becoming the new Morrisey),

Last night, we played at the delightful Paseo Underground to a small but receptive audience with Ford the River and Oogee Wawa and and goddamn if it wasn’t fun. Seriously, there’s no reason that this club shouldn’t be more popular than it is. It’s a big venue with a giant stage and a good sound system, not to mention the continuous display of avant-garde cartoons being projected onto the wall at all times and bizarre regular patrons simultaneously playing pool and breakdancing — it’s like someone took David Lynch’s sexual fantasies and turned them into a music venue.

We’ve got a literal assload of shows scheduled so far for May (as it turns out, you can fit six Jumpship Astronaut shows into an ass) starting with a show May 3rd at the Deli in Norman, OK. I also feel as though I should use this opportunity to whore our upcoming Cinco de Mayo shows at the 9th Street Block Party and later that night at the Blue Note. So if you like fun, you should make it a priority to come out.

That’s all for now. Don’t get AIDS!

- Ryan

All up inside our sexy new wheels. We’re working on new music and will begin an onslaught of prolapse-inducing regional shows starting in May, so start doing kegel exercises now while there’s still time.

Hello, again, loyal Jumpship enthusiasts. First and foremost, the Deli show in Norman, OK was phenomenal. Thanks to everyone who came out, especially to those who broke out into a (presumably drunken) dance party at the front of the stage. Drunk dancing is what we aim for, for ourselves and our fans. Also, I want to specifically thank the bearded guy in the cowboy hat and blazer (a.k.a. the “Nevada Gentleman”) for his emphatic enjoyment of our set. We’ll be back, kind sir, I assure you. Hell, you may even surpass “Hot” Karl Klein as our primary enthusiast, who, as it turns out, didn’t die a grisly death in the gutters of downtown Tulsa.

Also, a huge thanks to Aliens vs. Robots for kicking everyone’s ass. I’m pretty sure by the midpoint of their set, my spleen had somehow been perforated and I’m sure their music was involved in said perforation.

We’ve got a lot of shows around the OKC metro and Tulsa coming up, so keep an eye out for us. Who knows, if you come out to a JSA show, we may even buy you a beer or two. Probably not, but we might.

As the Nevada Gentleman would no doubt say: take ‘er easy!

- Ryan

Well, to begin this shiny new Jumpship Astronaut blog, I’d like to say what a great time we had at the Crystal Pistol in Tulsa on March 9th. Thanks to Rob for having us (and for the delightful assortment of free beer throughout the night). Also, a big thanks to Saturday Sirens and The Younglings for kicking everyone’s ass.

A few hours before we played the Crystal Pistol, amid a conversation with a man who is arguably Jumpship Astronaut’s biggest fan, “Hot” Karl Klein, it was somehow decided that Karl would scour the streets of Tulsa in hopes of bringing a larger crowd to the venue. Karl, our gracious one-man street team, then disappeared into the night (already fairly drunk) and was never heard from again. Hopefully, ol’ Karl is still alive. If he is, I intend to buy him a beer at our next show, which happens to be on March 29th at the Deli in Norman, OK. If he did somehow die in Tulsa, then I’ll gladly drink a beer in his honor.

At any rate, rest in peace, Karl, notwithstanding the possibility of you still being alive.

See you all at the Deli on March 29th!

- Ryan