Album of Year So Far:  Tacocat’s Lost Time.  “Paint the rainbow shades of beige, take down everything we’ve made”, kind of perfectly describes what’s happening in Tempe, Seattle, and most cities.

Okay, I’m gonna go off in some weird places but bear with me here.

There’s an odd thing that’s been happening in most cities across the United States.  It’s being billed as “Urban Revival” and using words like “vibrancy”, “urban core” and “Whole Foods”.  Perhaps you’ve seen the South Park episode with SoDaSoPa where the people of South Park become obsessed with getting a Whole Foods, much to the tremendous annoyance of the low income residents (Kenny’s family).

So enter Farmer Arts District in Tempe (something the neighbors have coined “FARTS District”).  Based on the name, you’d think this was some kind of cool arts community, it’s not.  The city and a developer named it an “arts district” around 2007 before the big housing crash.  It wasn’t a particularly artsy part of town and given the luxury focus of each project, the city isn’t developing it with artists in mind.  But similar to the South Park episode, we’re developing too fast, there’s hysteria around getting a Whole Foods, and everything is luxury millennial garbage.

The rents in these cookie-cutter developments are way too high for most artists but I suspect a few artists will be hired to contribute some art before they are promptly priced out of the neighborhood.

Also this begs a few questions.  Is what’s happening even gentrification? I’m unsure.  Lower income neighbors are definitely being priced out of their houses.  As more luxury developments come in, more landlords think they can get more for their properties.  Our incomes aren’t rising in the same way.  But the people being priced out are working class adults, under-employed millennials, and yeah…artists.  Which isn’t really surprising, artists are an important part of the gentrification formula.  But public housing projects aren’t being torn down and many of the lots they want to develop are empty.

Neighbors have been complaining about an increase in street harassment too.  Do these new wealthier residents feel so entitled to the neighborhood that they think they can harass the ladies that live here?

In the song song, “I Hate The Weekends”, Tacocat addresses something important, something The Stranger, The Seattle Times, and The Guardian have all written about.  The influx of tech-bros moving into a neighborhood that celebrates artists, queers, fun, and at least for a time, was pretty affordable.  Since the rise of tech-bros in Seattle, violent crimes against queers and women has gone up as fast as the rent did.  And the people who brought the interesting culture are being priced out of town.

Is this what Tempe has to look forward to?  If you look at crime statistics on RAIDS, Mill Avenue and the area where these new luxury developments are popping up are filled with assaults, sexual assaults, rapes, and other violent crime.  Meanwhile the neighborhood next to all of this, the neighborhood that doesn’t have these luxury developments popping up like basic daisies, has very little violent crime.

To tie this all back together, Tacocat’s super perceptive album Lost Time, is incredibly timely while Tempe fights development and the bro invasion.  Tacocat sings songs about the X-Files Dana Scully (“the truth is out there and so am I”) and an ode to Seattle (“earthquake, tsumani, there’s still no place I’d rather be”).  But get rad political on songs like Men Explain Things To Me (“my feelings won’t subdue just because you told them to”, “take up the whole sidewalk, this land is your land, I’ll walk around so you can stand”).  All set to indie pop riffs, lots of places for hand claps, and dancing in your bedroom.

This album is earning a place in my heart as best of 2016 so far.

Tacocat is playing Valley Bar on July 22.  Tickets here.

Angsty teenagers dream of finding love in the graveyard.  Wearing your spookiest Sunday best, we’ll take pictures next to the oldest gravestones.  We don’t need Instagram filters because we’re using vintage cameras.  We’ll kiss and shoegaze for days.

Then you go to the sea with your love, wearing your finest vintage dress.  The dreamy sea air fills your lungs as the sun pulls behind a cloud.  The cool air invites a warm arm around you.

The sun comes out from behind the cloud and you’re ready to leave the beach.  You get on your bike and clap your hands to a familiar beat but you’re not sure exactly where it’s from but you’re sure there’s a Moog.  Ooooohhhhh… kiss kiss kiss!

At some point in the night, you realize the person you’re with is strange.  Maybe you’re strange too.  The time has come to admit your true feelings.  Will it come out with hand claps?  Will it come out with ooooOOOoooOOoooos?

As the night goes on, you lose it on the disco floor.

Casting aside the faux romantics, like some final fatal live journal entry.

But driving in your car, I never, never want to go home.

There aren’t very many people that believe me when I tell them that Stinkweeds (one of Phoenix’s few indie record stores) got their start in Mesa.  Mesa, a city full of conservative religious types, doesn’t seem like a great place to sell indie, grunge, or punk albums.  But it was perfect for me, my high school had open campus and I would frequently stop in and spend some of my lunch money on a few tapes or CDs.  That location was right next to a Subway and always smelled like their bread.  Those 99 cent meatball subs really helped me spend my record money wisely too.

It wasn’t long until Stinkweeds moved to Tempe, right next to Pita Jungle.  This location made more sense and I found myself there frequently too.  While Eastside Records (another classic Tempe record store) catered more towards punk records, Stinkweeds was in the middle of an indie pop phenomenon.   I remember seeing a few bands there, and even more at their show space at Modified.  As a side note, I put on a show at Modified when I was 18 to help fund my zine, they were incredibly supportive and helpful in making that a very successful night.

One of my all time favorite shows at Modified was The Aislers Set.

To celebrate Record Store Day, I stopped by Stinkweeds’ new location in Phoenix.  While they’ve moved, they still have a reliable selection of indie pop records.  There isn’t a Subway near by anymore so the scent of yoga-mat-bread doesn’t fill my nostrils.  Today I picked up The Magnetic Fields’ Realism, Los Campesinos No Blues, and The Julie Ruin 7″.  The Julie Ruin is such an exciting project for me because Kathleen Hanna is making great pop music mixed with punk.  Kathleen Hanna continues to impress me in the way that her music evolves while staying true to her past, present, and future.  Old Julie Ruin is so poppy it has hand claps and “cold coconut ice cream”, the new 7″ doesn’t disappoint either.

But all this reminiscing makes me long for a cooler Tempe.  While I look to purchase a house in Tempe and do the adult thing, I can’t help but be jealous of how cool Phoenix has gotten.  Tempe used to be the spot.  I long for a Tempe that doesn’t cater to drunken jockocracy and completely out of hand fraternities.  I miss dancing in front of Long Wongs and how a walk down Mill Avenue was full of freaks.  I walked up to Mill Avenue last night on a whim and the whole thing made me sad, the only freaks were the ones I was meeting.  I don’t know what it’s gonna take to change Tempe, or if Tempe is a lost cause.  I know a lot of people around here want to defend the neighborhood for the freaks and take back what’s ours.  The free-roaming peacocks seem to be a hint of what change should be coming for Tempe.

While we should support the businesses that we want to see in our neighborhood (Ash Ave Comics, Double Nickels, Tops, etc), that’s an empty way to make a neighborhood cool because duh you’re gonna do that anyway.  I want to see more art everywhere.  I want to see more gardens popping up in empty lots.  I want to see an end to the bro take over.  I want to see less cops.  And more than anything, I want to see more freaks.