Bear with us. We’re going to do a thing here.

Mike Watt, bassist for the Minutemen, in describing the process through which the trio created their music, spoke of its immediate quality, how a bit of an idea would be turned into a bit of a song, each infused with the mood of the moment, with all of the passion and intensity and beauty it took to create it, to mold the message into a melody.

And, once done, they would move on.

So their songs were complete the way minutes in your life are complete.

None of them were meant to stand alone, but rather their discography was to be taken as a whole, part of some self-described “river,” a shifting, breathing, organic thing, expanding with every new recording, for better or worse, spinning in every direction all at once. Catalogue recast as concept album, conversation, spanning an entire career.

But, really, it’s all a load of bollocks, innit? True for the Minutemen, perhaps, but be wary when you hear this. Because whenever someone tells you a thing is greater than the sum of its parts, it usually means they’re unhappy with the sum and trying to convince you otherwise.

Which brings us to the point. Of this, of the site, of it all.

There isn’t one.

See, these aren’t short stories. Hardly a handful of words each. No, these are pop songs. Three minutes of mood, ghost notes carried by radio waves, caught in the middle of a chorus. These things, whatever you want to call them, are made to make you feel, not think. Some work better than others, but most still won’t. Relax. Go with the flow. All we hope is that you stick with the station. You’re bound to hear something you like sooner or later.

Bear with us. We’re going to do a thing here.