Hello 2015...

Shit to do in 2015:

-Get passport and get off North America…even for a weekend.

-Play drums for a band at a show in LA…and beyond.

-Post a blog once a week…totaling at least 52 post in 2015.

-Work on next film.

Shit accomplished in 2014:

-Survived Los Angeles for 365 days straight…fuck yeah!

-Fell even more in love with Jamie Cartlidge.

-Got promoted.

-Launched YourFriendMatt.com.

-Adopted our dog Piper from a parking lot. 

-wrote, produced and starred (unintentionally) a short film. ..along with went to Vegas to do a short.

2014,

You were a good year, a great year - a stupendous year! Thanks for holding it down. You will be missed but we have to keep pushing forward. We will build on top of what we started here and strive for better. 

Thanks for everything 2014.  

2015 - don't be a dick. 

-YourFriendMatt

007...

This one time...in Las Vegas...we made a short film...

The Keys to the World (2014) is the twenty-fourth spy film in the James Bond series, and the first to star Matt Bates as the fictional MI6 officer James Bond. The film was directed by Chris Smith and the story was conceived and written by Tobias Stukm and Artemister Crent, with later collaboration by other writers.

I moved to California almost a year ago. The transition was rough in the beginning. My girlfriend and I didn't know any one in the state...and it's a pretty big state. We were broke from the expenses of travel across the country and stressed wondering about what the hell we were doing. This is when my phone rang.

Chris called me to let me know he was going to be in Las Vegas (a "short" 5 hour bus ride from LA). This is the perfect opportunity I was secretly looking for to forget about what I was supposed to be doing (setting up my life) and go play with my friends in the desert. We discussed the concept of a Bond-eske short film over an even shorter phone call and when we pulled in the the Vegas bus station Chris was waiting there in a red Mustang. "The rental place gave away my actual car, so I got this!" Not a bad trade off. I threw my bag in the trunk, jumped in the front seat (sorry/thanks Becca) and we drove directly to a tuxedo rental shop off the strip. The film attached is the result of putting ourselves in weird situations throughout the city to create something we wanted to see...and yes...I wore that tux all day...even at lunch.

Please check it out and let us know what you think!

On Break...

“Holy shit, this place is weird.” - Me

All I wanted to do is read a book and relax on my lunch break. I am lucky enough to work a stones throw away from the breath-taking views of the Pacific. This is my place of choice for taking all breaks throughout the work week, an oasis if you will, from the hell-trap on Earth I work in dealing with the silver spoon, brainwashed to keep-up-with-the-Jones’, American public day in and day out. In all honesty I love what I do, no complaints…if only the damn customers weren’t there…but thats a whole other conversation.

Today, I take the long way to the coast to sit on my usual bench to read and decompress from the first half of my shift. I arrive at my bench just at the edge of the tree lines shade at the perfect time of day. As I take my seat there is a man pacing behind the bench on the phone call of his life. He speaks loud and direct to whomever it is he needs to get his point across to on the other side of that mobile device. I do the usual raised eyebrow dirty look towards him and open my book. As I start to ingest the immoral words from my library-borrowed Christopher Moore fiction my new pacing friend ends his call. Good - my eyebrows did the talking again. Victory.

As Pacer stands there I notice out of the corner of my eye another older man, tattered, in every sense of the word, with a sticker-covered guitar case takes a seat on the grass next to the bench. Indian style now he opens the guitar case to pull out 2 drum sticks. Sure. Why not? What? You expected him to pull out a guitar? No, no. This is California, nothing normal happens here. Especially on the cliffs overlooking the ocean in Santa Monica…I really need to find a new oasis…this place is getting weird. Oh - did I forget to mention he has a tarnished, half consumed wine jug with him? My new tattered friend takes his drum sticks, one in each hand, and in no order or musical computation I can make out starts to sing and bang on the guitar case as if it were a drum using his half consumed red-stained jug to accent his nonsensical beat. I slowly raise my head from my fiction in a mix of confusion, frustration and awe. By the time I look over at this tattered man he has pulled out a recorder, the kind of flute-like instrument they hand out in 3rd grade and starts contributing his own horrific, and once again in no music computation that anyone could comprehend or interpret to paper, soundtrack to the picturesque scenery.

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At this point I assume you for got about Pacer. I almost did too. As I rip my eyes from the absurdity that is Tatter to my friend Pacer I notice he is in a trance, barefoot, shoes removed and discarded across the grass like litter in a hunched position looking like he is prepping for a human take-off in the vein of Superman or Peter Pan. He springs upright and releases all the air in his lungs like a party favor balloon squeezed of air. It is at this exact moment I notice another man who has sat down on another bench a few feet from me fighting the air in front of him as passerby’s move out of the way of his mighty fists. What the hell is going on today? I sit and wonder then ask myself, "Does this happen everyday?"

Uploaded by Matt Bates on 2014-08-17.

Now, I can’t make this shit up. I wish I was this creative and smart but I’m not. I am on break at work and from all sides around me people are going crazy. How in the hell am I going to focus on a book now? And it is now that I realize. If we stop to notice life, just slow down for a minute...the world is a beautifully insane place. Take a minute this week to break out of your 'normal' routine and look to see what the hell is going on around you. Like Ferris said "Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around for a while, you could miss it." Or you might find some crazy assholes doing God knows what in all areas around you. 

But then again...sometimes....you have to go back to work.

-YourFriendMatt

While You Were Gone...

Holy Crap! I am so excited! Here it is! We made a 3 minute short film!

I can't believe that I still get to do creative things surrounded by the people I love who in return continue to push me to do more creative things. I am one of the luckiest and richest dudes on the planet. Please watch, share, laugh, hate it, love it and let us know what you think!

Also, if you have not already done so please check out some of the other shorts we have done under the "I Write and Act" tab on YourFriendMatt.com or at our YouTube Channel at YouTube.com/BrokenSoundRecording.

Thank you all for anything and everything you do!

Stay positive. Smile. Have fun and screw 'em.

-YourFriendMatt

Ol' Trusty...Part Two...

“Oh man. No way. This can’t be happening.” we softly uttered as the engine seized… 

Our band had been invited to play an event for a rock radio station in Philadelphia. We hadn’t played together in almost a year, we had no new material to showcase, some of us moved to other states and we would only be able to get one rehearsal in…we went for it. We missed each other and needed a excuse to play music together again. Besides, we are professionals right? We would all remember the lyrics, harmonies and parts after a hour of rehearsing right? Sure - it's like riding a bike - 'we got this' repeats over and over again in my head.

I landed back in Philadelphia to rehearse, caught up over some beers, packed up and we were on our way. Chris and I drove our ramshackle van full of equipment while the other guys went separately due to prior obligations. When we get together we think we are invincible and even at our age, which is closer to 30 that 20, we find ourselves reverting to our adolescent mindsets. Even the worst ideas seem probable after we all convince one another it's possible. Case in point - driving our band van, which is literally falling apart, 20+ miles to Philadelphia. 

Our final destination...if we make it there...

We got this...

Right before we departed there was a (very) quick conversation about the  possibility of the van not making it. Back up plan? Nope. “She is going to make it! There is no other option!” We decided as we all raised a toast to the van that has gotten us around the world and back. “Here goes nothing.” Chris whispered in a moment of clarity “Okay Ol’ Trusty…all you have to do is get us there. We will take it from there.” caressing the steering wheel. I turn and place my hand on the dusty dashboard. "We got this."

There was traffic so we decided to make our into New Jersey and then cut back over into Philadelphia from there. This made sense if you were driving a vehicle that was well maintained and knew it was going to get your to your final destination. In our case though this was a tricky maneuver. If the van died in New Jersey we were screwed. We crossed the bridge from Delaware in to New Jersey and all was going well. As we had reached the crest of the bridge there was a loud, unnerving bang. Where did it come from? Chris and I side-glanced at each other. “Did you feel that?” I asked. “It’s nothing! Ol’ Trusty will get us there!” Chris responded and then it happened - the van shut off. Died. We were motionless at the crest of the bridge like a roller coaster at the top of its track. “No way!” We both barked “Start rocking forward and hopefully we can coast down the rest of the bridge!” We rocked and pushed and then she went. The centrifugal force and gravity started to pull us into New Jersey as we coasted with a dead van full of equipment. “Oh man! Do the brakes still work?” as I turn to Chris who is throwing an open container out the window. He responds “Man! This is probably an awful time to tell you that the van is uninsured!” We both scream held each other and pray for the best as we careened towards the garden state.

Frantically, Chris pumps the brakes as we whiz by a colorful "New Jersey Welcomes You" sign. We were running out of road fast as we see our lane was coming to an end. "Woo! The shit hit the fan quick on this one, baby!" Chris yells and he jerks the wheel steering us into another lane. I could see there was a fork in the road at the end of the bridge. "Aim for that shoulder man! If we can land there we'll be fine!" I point as I pull out my phone to document with a quick social media post...and to send to the rest of our band to keep them up to date with our current whereabouts. What? If we are going down like this I want social media to know we went out in glory. "Already ahead of you!" Chris responds as our ship starts to course correct towards the fork 's shoulder. 

Welp, we broke down on our way to play a show in Philadelphia

With a screech of the tires, a cloud of black road dust and a touch of luck we land on the shoulder of the road. We wipe the sweat from our brows and slowly turn to look at each other in awe. After a wide-eyed, jaw dropped pause of amazement we slowly crack smiles. "Holy shit! We did it!" Double checking my phone for the video playback. "Damn straight we did. Now, lets fix this beast." Chris motions to me exiting the drivers seat to pop the hood. In a few moments, along with a a lot of cursing, hitting the engine with hammers and readjusting battery connections we were back on the road.

"I don't know? Should we hit it with a hammer?" - Matt & Chris

The rest of the ride was steady besides a few pops and sputters. We made it to the venue in time to load in, sound check and grab a brew together. The show went on and we had a blast seeing all our family, friends and creating memories. See…like I said…we got this.

-YourFriendMatt

While You Were Gone...

I am so excited to announce we are going to be releasing another short film on August 1, 2014! It's under three minutes! We are always looking for new hurtles to jump and to push our creativity. Trying to get a point across in three minutes is a challenge but I am proud of this outcome.

Above is a quick trailer about the film. We submitted this to a film contest here in California and no matter what the result this is another project of love and passion. Create because you love it, you get to make your friends laugh and screw what everyone has to say. Please check it out and let us know what you think! Thank you for everyone's continued support and love! 

The Return of Owls...

Some would say it is about time and way over due. We can all relax now, it’s finally here and fans could not be more excited. Owls have released their sophomore album ‘TWO’after a 13-year hiatus, through independently owned Polyvinyl Records. Back in action and touring the globe Owls is a super group of progressive, emo and pop rock royalty. Featuring Tim Kinsella, Mike Kinsella, Victor Villarreal and Sam Zurick from groups Cap’n Jazz, Joan of Arc, Owen, American Football and The Promise Ring, Owls second album marks a more defined, mature and confident sound.

An hour before the doors a line has already formed for the die hard fans who wish to claim their spot on the standing room only floor, and as they take the stage, the crowd goes ballistic. With a simple, soft spoken “It’s good to be back”from smiling singer Tim Kinsella the band breaks into their title track from TWO “Four Works of Art”—a slow-paced, riff driven rocker that allows the band to groove and fans time to watch Owls musicianship. They flawlessly transition to their single from TWO “I’m Surprised”with Kinsella’s trademark eccentric vocal stylings. The club participates with Owls call and response choruses and metaphorical lyrics.

For the rest of the set Owls transition from one progressive emo track to another showing that their was no rust to shake off from their hiatus. They are as energetic and captivating as they were a decade ago…if not more. Check out Owls in a city near you this summer and pick up TWO as soon as humanly possible if you know what is good for you.

Ol' Trusty...Part One...

"Dude, this could be her last ride. It's only right we take her." I said to Chris convincing him to take the dilapitated band van to our most recent show.

Throughout the years music has taken me across the nation and back. I consider these some of the most formative years of my life. When you are 1,400 miles from home, have no money, everything you own is broken or smelly you learn a thing or two. Since my friends and I started playing music we have destroyed every one of my mom's cars, most of my friend's parents cars, every one of our own cars, vans bought strictly for the band (old or new) and now we have a hand-me-down 2005 Ford FreeStar.

The band van is a beautiful thing. It's your safe house. Office. Board Room. Mobile home. Sales force..makeshift acoustic performance stage...salvation and worst nightmare. I've learned more about  auto repair on the side of the highway...at night...in a state I've never been too...with 18-wheelers whizzing by...underage...in the snow...than I ever will in a driveway. All in all seeing new things from a bench seat in a busted van was one of my favorite parts of the journey.

Up until this point of my life preforming has been something I have always done. I have had a chance to play with some great musicians in Los Angeles since my move but haven't hit a stage in a few months. When my old band got a call from the biggest rock radio stations in Philadelphia to preform live we all went for it. I landed in Philadelphia the day before the show and we ran through our normal setlist, caught up and went home to get a good night sleep.

We gathered on the day of the show at Chris' house to get a plan together. We needed to figure out how we were going to get our equipment to the show. Take separate cars? No, that is lame. Then it dawned on us (well at least me) that the old band van was still sitting out front.

Side-note: A quick back story on this van: It was Chris' families van for years. It has carted him and his siblings to countless karate and basketball tournaments. As the years progressed the air conditioning eventually gave up resulting in too many summer adventures with both sliding doors open...including a trip all the way to Outer Banks, NC from Swedesboro, NJ with the doors open. I know the van has been in at least one accident on the highway and after that they gave it to Chris...who never fixed the headlight. Why bother? Something is also wrong with the battery connection so we had to carry around a little wrench to undo the positive connection to the battery everywhere we went. We would show up to work, pop the hood and unhook the battery...besides all that...this van is a gem and we wouldn't have it any other way. One more thing, it looks like this on the inside...

"Dude! Let's take the van!" I screech cracking an ice cold Pabst. "I don't know man, I haven't started her in months." Chris says turning to me. "Dude, this could be her last ride. It's only right we take her. Who knows when we will do this again!" Sipping and spitting beer everywhere. Chris shrugs with a half-assed sigh and we make our way outside to check out the van.

She sits on the street waiting for us to come check her out. She hasn’t been moved in months and there is a layer of yellow and brown dust pollen covering her exterior. One of the tires is just about flat but we know we can make it to the gas station to fill it back up. As we peer in the back tinted windows we see our previous filth from the last ride…and its disgusting…just the way we like it. “Let’s pop the hood and connect the battery!” Chris yells getting more energized remembering all the good times we have had in this beauty.

There was a zap of blue electric that shocked us as we reattached the positive connection to the battery. “Yes!” We belted with a second wind of excitement. This was a good sign and we both knew it. Chris ripped open the driver side door ready with his keys and turned the ignition. She turned over with a sputter, pop - and finally roared like a dying old bird…our dying old bird. “Well boys I guess we know how we're are getting to the show! Let’s start packing!”

We packed, drank the last of our beers and decided it was time to head to Philadelphia. Half of our band had to drive separate due to obligations after the show and work the next morning. This was no big deal - Chris and I found it poetic. We had started a lot of bands together and worked on more music than either of us could remember. We had no idea when we would get the chance to drive to preform together again so it made sense to us that the rock gods aligned the stars this way. It was like we were 17 again.

To be continued...

YourFriendMatt

Magazines...

Magazines is a rock band. Matt, Alec, Chris and Carmen are its members. Footage from summer 2009 to December 2013, additional footage courtesy of James B. Knight and Joe Cartlidge. Thank you to everyone we've ever met.

I am one of the luckiest dudes alive. I have the most loyal, loving, hardworking and best friends and family who would do anything for each other at the drop of a hat. Like Forrest said "I know that ain't something you can find just around the corner." My friend and musical brother Chris made this video for our upcoming show in Philadelphia for Xfinity and our fabulous friends at Radio 104.5. Such great footage that brings such great memories. I can not wait to fly back to all my family there and hug you all. Please enjoy and share with friends.

First World Problems...

 "Motherfucker." I said after calmly collecting myself from furiously punching, screaming at and shaking the steering wheel.

Since embarking on our adventure to California we have experienced nothing but car trouble. The SUV we drove from the chilly east coast died almost immediately upon arrival here in sunny California. She served her purpose, got us here safely and then gave up the ghost like a good soldier. It's all I asked of her. We lucked out when our friends Greg and Rick drove my other car out west from Philadelphia giving us another shot at LA traffic bliss...but now we have another problem (see picture above).

My 2004 Ford Focus, with all manual features standard, has been a godsend. She has taken me all over the east coast and now out west to tackle what this terrain has to offer. Sure her ignition sticks and you have to hit the steering column with a hammer every once in a while...sure the radio will just cut out for no reason sometimes ruining your chance at harmonizing the chorus of your favorite song...sure that passenger side mirror has never worked and makes merging a fun game of life or death...but overall...she's a gem. 

When I got the call from Jamie stating she couldn't get the key to turn I thought she was full of shit. We have been through this exact scenario a million times. The ignition just sticks and will get stuck now and then. Once you give the steering column a good love tap with a handy-dandy hammer it loosens up. "Jamie, my cousin who I never see is visiting and we are grabbing a drink. If I leave to travel across town to try and fix this it had better be officially stuck." Immoral words I wished I never used in retrospect. When I arrived at the scene like the knight in shining armor I think I am I arrogantly jumped into the driver's seat. Jamie was in the passenger and looked at me like I was the world's biggest dickhead. Which I am. "We'll be out of here in a minute and then we are heading back to catch my family for a drink." I state as I try to turn the key confidently. Stuck. A worried slightly embarrassed "Haha" Shot out of my mouth. "Uh, must give it a little more muscle." I try again as Jamie's eyebrows cock and a smirk creeped across her face. 

After about an hour of punching, hair pulling, screaming, yelling and explicitly expelling every curse I know (and some I made up) trying to turn the key with no success we decided to call roadside assistance. "Motherfucker." I say under my breath and let out a deep sigh. This thing was like the fucking Sword in the Stone, only the chosen one could get this thing to move. I have no idea how something like this happens. Imagine the key to your car ignition would not turn and get back to me. Don't take it for granted the next time you get in the car to zip off to the mall, corner store or...to grab drinks with your family...which at this point after trying to turn a key for two hours...were surely cancelled.

We called roadside assistance, found the closest Ford service station, found a ride home and were quoted 60 minutes for the tow truck to come get us...which gave us plenty of time to get the car to Ford to be fixed. When we realized we only had 10 minutes to get to the garage and we were still on the side of the road, long past our 60 minute rescue quote time, we got worried. I called the tow company, our insurance company and Ford. No one has ever heard of a "Matt" before. Fucking fantastic. Hearing "Who are you again?" is never a good response. Evidently the fax had never went through from our insurance company to the tow company to come get us. Make sense right? "What the fuck? Who uses a fax in the first place? What the fuck even is a fax?" Echoed in my head, that was currently on fire with fury, when they told me this. 

Jamie told me to calm down as I ferociously confiscated her phone and started dialing all parties numbers. I had our insurance company and tow company on 3 way on my phone and Ford on Jamie's "Mr. Bates we apologize for the inconvenience, Ford has a parking lot you can get the car towed to tonight after hours and they will look at the car first thing in the morning." Said the representative from our insurance company in a monotoned voice. "Uhhh, no we don't" responded the 20 year old valley girl receptionist from Ford. All parties were on speakerphone to hear each other. I stared at the phones, sat for a minute and responded quietly with "Guys. Do you see why I hate you all." Calmly like a serial killer and I paused "None of you have your shit together. Please communicate with each other before you present me a house of lies." My voice escalating. "Get me and my girlfriend off the goddamn side of the road immediately and somebody get my fucking car fixed" Now screaming every word. Another pause and a breath "Please." Trying to force my manners. I am not a total asshole but I think this specific scenario warrants a curse here or there. Jamie was mortified.

At the end of the day the car was finally towed...another hour later. Our tow truck operator Caesar didn't know who we were or where the car was going. We had to make another call to his boss to get it straightened out again...but he was at least a nice guy. I didn't give him shit and we laughed. It's not his fault his company is run by a bunch of motherfuckers. At this point I just gave up...signed the papers...and prayed I would see my car again someday.

YourFriendMatt

Spring cleaning...

It only took 4 months but we finally threw our Christmas Tree out. I don't think it fits...where's that saw...

YourFriendMatt

Moving Day...

Last week Ryan told me he was moving. "Totally awesome new place on the beach man! I am so pumped!" As a friend this is one if the last things you want to hear because an important question immediately follows up with that statement. The dreaded "Hey are you free this weekend?" Which translates to "Dude, please help me, I would do it for you...Come on! I'll buy you lunch! Just help me lift this fucking couch!" I let him plead his case, asked what actually has to be moved and where. Turns out we weren't going far, he didn't have that much, and beer was guaranteed. 

I arrived to his house on a hot, sunny Sunday afternoon. We were only moving him about a half a mile away. The biggest thing is his futon, no big deal. I figured he would have some sort of truck to get everything moved in one swoop. Wrong again, as I tend to be. My friend Ry drives a yellow Lotus convertible with trunk space the size of a shoe box. What the hell are we going to fit in that?

This is Ry...and the vehicle he thought would be good for moving...he is brilliant...at least he had beer...

Ry's car is so small that I, at 6' 2" stature, cannot fully fit into it and my legs do not fully stretch out in either of the seats. "How the hell are we supposed to move this crap when I can barely fit in this car." I ask. Ry is not the best critical thinker and he shrugged at this question. What else could we do?...We had a beer while we tried to figure this out. We knew we were going to have to get the futon moved and were stumped on how we were going to do it. Our friend Jeff stopped by while we were thinking of solutions for this problem. "Why don't you guys just water-taxi the futon over?" Jeff said. All of our eyes lit up. Ry lives on the Venice canals in LA and has 2 canoes... best idea ever right? We all ran to the canals to size up the canoes. A collective "This has to work" conversation broke out and we excitedly got on our way to execute our plans.

With a quick buzz and a new sense of accomplishment we decided we had to make one trip before our water adventure. The first trek we thought we would put as much in the trunk "space" as possible, sit me in the passenger seat, close the door and then pack more stuff on top of me through the roof. Sounds good right? Now that we were packed we set sail for a 2 minute drive around the corner to get his stuff moved to his new beach front house.

We both forgot it was St. Patricks Day weekend and it took us an hour to go less than 6 blocks...gotta love LA...all while it was 90 degrees out...with suitcases crushing me...and Rys gas light was on from the moment we left. To break down now would be poetic.

Finally arriving at Ry's new place we unpacked and I met Ry's roommate Scuba Steve. Turns out Steve is a photographer and when we told him about our plan to water-taxi a futon on 2 small canoes he wanted to document the whole thing.

Determination. stevenjayphoto.com...really rad stuff

We decided the car was now worthless and left it at Ry's new place. It only took us 6 minutes to walk back. "We should have just walked. " We both agreed. We quickly got the futon out back to the boats, tied it securely with guitar quarter inch cable (true band guys...it's all we had), and set sail to victory. 

"I can't believe how well this is working!" We kept yelling at each other paddling and taking chugs from our Pabst pounders we secured at the corner Asian market before our voyage. Everyone walking the canals clapped, cheered us on and Steve snapped photos. "It's to crowded to take the roads! We're taking to the sea!" Ry would yell to a passerby and slug his beer. "Yeah! It's moving day!" I would yell after him choking on a swig. At the end of our trek we still had to get the futon out of the canoes and carry it 2 more blocks...and we did so with passion and fury....mainly fueled by the beer.

stevenjayphoto.com

I still ill don't know where my shoes are but that is neither here nor there. Tales like this are what true friendship is all about. Ry is now happily moved in and loving his new location. We spent the rest of the night walking the beach, eating mexican food and drinking champagne. Not too bad. I think there is two morals to this story. First you can make any task, no matter how shitty it is...like helping your friend move, and make it an adventure. Secondly, when your friend asks him to help you move make sure he has beer.

YourFriendMatt