Friday, September 15, 2017

C'est la vie; Save me

I want to talk to you about American Steel. They're a band. A Bay Area punk band. You might know a few of those.






So yeah, American Steel is a capital bee Band. But there's an excellent chance that, even if you listen to punk that you may have inadvertently avoided them. I know I missed out on their greatness for years.

I felt endless alone in grad school. There was no one source of this despair: a college ex-girlfriend in the making, entrenched anti-Semitism, and being stuck in Buffalo, New York as proudly stubborn and stubbornly prideful Brooklynite who had failed to get his driver's license.
Twice.
Living in Buffalo taught me why America is a country of roads. I had been spoiled by my ability to just walk places. Instead I was thrust into a world where my feet did not matter and my knowledge of the intricate network of the MTA was worth less than Dime Night wings. Going out to find a community was hard, but I also didn't feel safe. It wasn't that Buffalo was dangerous - I just was not in a good place and venturing into the world was not something I was ready to do.
So I let my fingers take the place of my feet and the ethernet supplanted my MetroCard. I explored the world of punk on the Internet. I uncovered a world of people who felt Outside; I found a new home. 
See, I had gone "away" to college but it wasn't really that far from where I grew up. My best friend was a year ahead of me and I knew nearly two dozen people from my childhood who were attending the same school. There was the familiarity of a reboot. I was able to seamless become who I thought I myself to be without having to examine exactly what I was.
Graduate School was different. Buffalo had its own identity that existed in dissonance to not only how I perceived myself but also to the Alex that actually was; an Alex that was intransigent. I retreated to punk because I knew it but also because of the myth of Punk Rock. I loved the story of those outside grouping together because of collective rejection by society. My companion during the work day was an internet radio station that gave me respite from the city's immune response to my intrusion. 
One day I heard this song.

I hated it. Then I heard this song.


Okay, I liked that one. Over time "Dead and Gone" grew on me. I acquired the Destroy Their Future. I devoured it almost daily. 
American Steel sounded like no other band I had ever loved. I continued digging and found their catalog. I fell head over heels. They became my favorite source of nourishment for a month, forsaking everything else on the menu. The pleasantly rare Rogue's March drew me in more than than black-and-blue self titled album. 
Jagged Thoughts, though. Oh man Jagged Thoughts.
I have seen "Maria" described as a perfect song. I am hard pressed to disagree. It is soft and inviting before pulling you in for an amazing crescendo that spikes over and over. "Maria" is lovingly layered with each instrument walking their own path, tripping over each other only to roar in unison every chorus. It is an absolute delight.

Where "Maria" coasts, "Rainy Day" soars. The song lulls you in with soft tones before cutting your heart out with absolutely gut wrenching hurt. Every time I listen to the song I can see the tattered wound where a heart once was and it sings to me. 

I have a thing for musical moments. The backstroke distortion halfway through the chorus gets me every damn time. I can listen to this song on repeat for an hour easy and always find something new to appreciate. They wrote the hell out of it - the soft layers, the atmospheric guitars, the reverb on the ending chorus - everything that makes you Feel.
When thinking about American Steel I tried to remember what kept me away at the onset. It was the vocals. They're sour. In fact everything about the band is just a bit too tart. But over time everything about American Steel stopped being offensive to my palate. I had wanted a light pilsner but American Steel are a flat out Gose. 
American Steel's catalog did some heavy lifting for my soul during one of the lowest points in my life. I could sink into "Rainy Day" and wallow in someone else's misery to distract me from my own.
A few years later I was out of Buffalo and in a much better place in my life. American Steel released Dear Friends and Gentle Hearts. The energetic opposite of "Rainy Day." It became a new blanket for a different sort of comfort.

See American Steel had gotten me through a tough time. It got me to a place where the friends I made online became my friends in real life. The community I searched for became tangible. We partied and it was good. 

Monday, September 11, 2017

Thank You Magic Online

Last week we got our first look at Magic: The Gathering Arena. The new digital offering will be the latest way to play the world's best collectible card game on the internet. While Arena is not officially taking the place of Magic Online and the former program will continue to be supported, it may just be a matter of time (years and years) before the two become one. 

That is pure speculation, of course. For all we know Arena could flop and Magic Online will continue to succeed, the alligator of its age. These words are not about the potential future of digital Magic, nor will they be a critique of Magic Online's shortcomings (of which there are many). Rather I am going to be extolling Magic Online the entity (as opposed to the program). In my opinion, Magic Online has done more for the democratization of Magic content than just about any other innovation in the past 15 years.

Content is a hungry beast and trying to keep every stripe of Magic player sated is a daunting task. Before there was an official websites there was the USENET, then the Dojo. Then came Sideboard.com and the Mothership as we know it today. StarCityGames and ChannelFireball are big names today, with TCGPlayer carrying on the legacy of BrainBurst.com. GatheringMagic is a relative newcomer (shout out to my home) but there are tons of sites: PureMTGO, MTGGoldfish, HipstersoftheCoast and on and on and on. And this doesn't even begin to scratch the surface of independent YouTubers, Streamers, and Tumblrers. 

We are legion.

What Magic Online did, however, was give people spread far and wide access to Magic at an incredibly high level. In the time Before one would have to be part of a relatively elite group in order to provide high level content. Want to talk tournaments? You better live in a PTQ corridor or already be on the tour itself. Casual Magic more your speed? You need to have a well established playgroup that isn't growing up or moving away any time soon. Limited? I hope you had perfect recall.

See what Magic Online really did is that it brought every aspect of the game to everyone with a high speed internet connection and a disposable income. I mention this because ignoring it does a disservice to the very real requirements of playing Magic. Yet with access to these anyone could start playing more, and eventually play against improved competition. 

So you no longer had to move to a specific city to find a hotbed of Magic (as Mike Pustilnik did, potentially apocryphally) - you could just join a Daily Event of a single elimination tournament. And you could grind away and tweak your deck. Then you could share your experience. 

Or you could develop software that tracked your draft and helped you learn where you draft may have gone wrong. You could share these with the world and create an entire new style of article and help teach the world how to draft. An eternal wellspring, this would never grow old since every few months (give or take) a new draft environment would emerge. 

All of this was before streaming. With the advent of screen-capture technology actual games could be recorded and dissected. Not only could you practice but you could do it and share what you learned in real time with anyone who tuned in. In a happy twist on The Poltergeist you could suck your audience into your screen but teach them something instead of torment them. 

Magic Online worked for content creation but it also helped to create the current generation of stars. Luis Scott-Vargas, Brad Nelson, Reid Duke, Ondrej Strasky, Yuuki Ichikawa, and so many more cut their teeth on the cursor. The Pro Tour does not look like it does today without Magic Online.

Now it's time for my trademark hyperbole. I liken the program, as flawed as it is, to the printing press. It took something that was available to the concentrated few and made it easier for those of some means to have a shot access. Not only could more play the game but those who never knew they could create now how their shot.

I am, of course, biased. Without Magic Online there is a very good chance I drift away from the game. I never find my niche and I never started writing. And I wonder how true that is for many other people out there today.

This is not a eulogy. Just one guy's chance to show his appreciation. So thank you Magic Online - you gave a whole lot of us a shot.