How Bleached's Search for the Lost Go-Go's Album Resulted in My Favorite Record of the Year (so far)

Ride Your Heart

Dead Oceans Records, 2013
Dave’s Grade (for what it’s worth): A
I can’t stop listening to this damn album.

Los Angeles’ Bleached appears to aspire to sound like every girl group (or every girl-fronted) group you’ve ever heard, from the Shirelles to the Bangles to the Breeders. And that’s a good thing because over the course of its 37 minutes, Ride Your Heart – Bleached’s first full-length record, released in April on the Dead Oceans imprint – shakes up all of its SoCal influences in a giant aural blender and what comes out is, essentially, the great lost Go-Go’s album. Again, a good thing, because I’m hard pressed to find a better (or more fun and entertaining) rock record out this year, one that is immediately accessible yet deceptively complex.
 
Fronted by former Mika Miko members Jennifer and Jessica Clavin, Bleached takes us on a tour of all their influences, at first listen glossed up for a night out under a crystal-clear Southern California sky. “Looking For a Fight,” the opener, is what the Ramones would sound like if they were fronted by Cindy Wilson and Kate Pierson of the B-52’s. The killer first single, “Next Stop,” follows. But as the record moves along, the Clavin sisters dig deeper. “Dead in Your Head,” with its soaring, multilayered psychedelic chorus, as well as the longing title track, wouldn’t seem out of place on the Beach Boys’ legendary Pet Sounds. “Waiting by the Telephone” recalls pre-Parallel Lines Blondie; Phil Spector could have produced “Dreaming Without You” for one of his girl groups in the 1960s. Ditto the closer, “When I Was Yours.”

Much like L.A. alt godmothers the Go-Go’s 1981 debut, Beauty and the Beat, hidden under the layer of cheer lie songs of loss and wondering. “Dead in Your Head,” clearly the centerpiece of the record, laments the inadvertent hurting of a boy the singer “loves the most,” but asks the chorus’ pointed question, “When you close your eyes at night, do you dream about all the things dead in your head?” In “Looking for a Fight,” singer Jennifer Clavin warns listeners right off the bat that she’s “not right.”  In “When I Was Yours,” she notes that she “has a bad brain that can’t be saved.” As the song (and album) fade into a burst of feedback, Jennifer mourns over the noise “I’ve almost tried to lift away.”

Brilliant in its pacing and nearly flawless in its production, Ride Your Heart is an astonishing debut. Able to blend its influences into something that never sounds derivative, Bleached – with any sort of luck – will be the soundtrack of many endless summers ahead. 

The Decision, Version 2013

I wonder if I had a 30-minute special on ESPN to announce my decision on an MFA program, if anyone would tune in. There would be me, announcing to the world, that "I'm going to take my talents to..."

Would anyone watch? Probably my wife, maybe one or two of my three sons, certainly my one-time thesis advisor, perhaps my sister-in-law, maybe my buddy Rich. Not sure it would register on Nielson ratings.

But to me, I feel like my decision is as important as LeBron's was a few years ago when he picked Miami over his hometown Cleveland and all the other suitors in the NBA. At least to me. Because the first decision was whether I would even pursue this in the first place. Like, was it worth it? The Master of Fine Arts degree is basically an academic one, a credential designed for tenure-seeking college professors. If I had an undergraduate degree in English or creative writing, I probably wouldn't be pursuing it. Becoming a professor would be a great thing, but I'm not sure that's the track I'm on. In my case - an undergraduate degree in political science, a successful career in the insurance field, but a relentless literary fire that began burning a few years ago and rages on as I free fall into middle age - an MFA maybe a necessity because I'm largely self-taught. I've completed a poetry collection, and am on the verge of finishing a second, but I really don't know what I'm doing. Like, I think I'm pretty good, but I couldn't really tell you the difference between a Shakespearean sonnet and an Italian sonnet. I think I probably need to know stuff like this.

Some background:

I salvaged my academic reputation with a stint in the Master of Arts in Writing program at Nova Southeastern University in Fort Lauderdale, FL., where I got my MA this past May. I could ramble on about the people I met, and the great experience, but I'll save that for a more reflective time. Right now, I gotta gear up for the future. But my time at Nova resulted in a couple of poetry publications and a 4.0 GPA that basically will make everyone forgot about my miserable undergraduate performance.

So now I have to decide between three, and the clock is ticking in more ways than one. It's October, and the next term starts in January. And my own clock is ticking, too, because I'll turn 50 in February. Ha, a grad student at 50. Go figure. Better late than never or too little, too late? Time will tell, I guess, and it will tell really slowly.

The first thing anyone applying to an MFA program needs to know is that MFA programs come in two varieties: the traditional and the low-residency. The traditional is exactly what you'd think it is, so no further explanation is really needed from me. The low-residency format is kind of designed for people like me: older, with families and jobs. Other than format, there isn't anything clear cut that says one is better than the other. Obviously, there is less opportunity for funding in the low-res format because you just aren't there long enough to be a TA or a graduate assistant. In the low-res format, you go for a residency, usually between 9 and 10 days, twice a year. In between residencies, you are broken into groups of 4 or 5, and you work with a mentor via email, snail mail, telephone, etc.

I picked two low-residencies and a traditional to apply to. I got accepted into both low residencies, and I'm waiting to hear from the traditional - at my local state university, Florida Atlantic - but I fully expect to be admitted, considering the killer writing sample (a portion of my NSU thesis), a 4.0 GPA, and some publication credits. I'll get in, for sure. I'll bet Howard Schnellenberger's moustache on it.

FAU's biggest selling point is that it is close to my house. I could easily travel from home, or work, and get to class. This is followed closely by the fact that FAU is a state university, and tuition is reasonable. There would be no travel costs, no overnight stays. While I am certain the faculty is very good, in all honesty, FAU has no real literary reputation.

If you asked anyone with an advanced degree to describe their experience in grad school, at some point in the description the word "grind" would come in. Grad school is one hell of a grind, and going to FAU would have me knee deep in the grind for the next two and a half years, going from work to class on the only two nights of the week I'm not on daddy duty. I just did this; I'm not sure I want to do it again.

The first MFA program that took me was the University of Tampa. The folks at UTampa pursued me more than I pursued them, and I really like that. While the official university line is that there isn't funding for their MFA program, I was able to get some money to go there. While the tuition is kind of high - it's more than $7k per term - this is a nice little offset. The fact that the UT campus is 218 miles from my house is good, too, and that their fifth and final residency tuition is only $1500.

Don't even get me started on the emotional aspects of attending UTampa. It's a beautiful campus, a small slab of historic European architecture in the middle of downtown Tampa. But Tampa is my adopted hometown, a quirky city I lived in once and hope to return to one day. Also, Jeff Parker, the first director, wrote the very well received Ovenman (2007) and A Long Wild Smile. I really connected with Parker, and he seemed to want me in the program. But he's not the director anymore. The new director, Steve Kistulentz is in charge now, and I've spoken to him on the phone a few times. A cool guy. And a poet in charge! That can only help.

The other program I've been accepted to is Converse College. This intriguing little program is located in Spartanburg, SC. Converse is a traditional woman's college, and is very small. The grad school is co-ed. Honestly, they are making it hard for me to say no. The director, Rick Mulkey, is accessible and friendly (he, too, is a poet). The faculty includes poets like Denise Duhamel and Suzanne Cleary. The winter residency is spent in the mountains of Tryon, SC, in a place where F. Scott Fitzgerald lived. They keep their enrollment low - there are only 33 students in the program - and faculty and students live together in the same place. The experience sounds incredible.

The residency is nine days, one less than UTampa, but you have to add travel time. And I'd be spending additional time traveling. The January residency actually starts December 30, and I'd incur the additional expense of bringing my wife up for new year's because I wouldn't want to ring in 2014 without her (it was at 12:01 am, on 1/1/12, that I asked her to marry me in the first place). Tuition is a little lower at Converse, but the distance adds costs. Still, US News and World Report raves about this place in its rankings, and South Carolina is a beautiful state.

I've actually got a chart with the three options and all sorts of categories. Hell, the UTampa baseball team won the Division II Championship this year. Gotta count for something, doesn't it?

I gave UTampa a deposit a while ago, and Converse needs one by the 21st of this month. UTampa's is refundable; Converse's isn't. I need to decide soon. I know this is a good problem to have. But it's a big decision.

And I'm taking my talents to...

Let you know when I do.

Keep you posted.