Friday. 3:30 PM. May. REO Speedwagon in the air.

I was standing in the parking lot. Looking for the source. A six-pack in each hand.

I was thirteen once. Young. Impressionable. Figuring out my expectations of love.

Dweezil Zappa and Lisa Loeb sang REO Speedwagon’s “Keep on Lovin’ You’’ on Hardrock live. They were in love. “When I said that I love you, I meant that I love you forever.” Heavy sidelong glances exchanged. Dweezil made his way to Lisa during a guitar solo. A long march across the stage. As if a magnet. As if a fish on the line. As if possessed. He sang the final chorus over her shoulder. Quietly. Into her ear. They laughed and giggled, incapable of hiding their love for more than three minutes.

I had forgotten about the concert. Almost. Then you pulled up.

Hippie, white-man dreads in a jeep. The radio blasting. You sang with red-faced enthusiasm. Your neck strained. Your lungs taxed. Stuck at the red-light in front of Paris on Ponce.

Love has been real. Love was most real at that moment. In the middle of Atlanta. In a parking lot where homeless men sleep. In front of a grocery store whose name is prefaced with the word murder.

“Cause it was us baby, way before them, and we’re still together.”

A hand reached out the jeep window. My staring had not been discrete enough. You reached out to me. I was the only person in the Greens parking lot. Miraculous at three-thirty on a Friday. This was a miracle, undoubtedly.

I wanted to reach out too, but didn’t. There were the six-packs to consider. The light turned green. You were still reaching, singing. Someone honked.

You drove forward, you drove away.

“Being in high school in the mid 90s, Nirvana was your life,” Mice in Cars frontman/guitarist Myke Johns pondered on where his preference for the blustering sounds came from. “It was all I wanted to do that moment.”

“I discovered very early on when playing guitar, when I was thirteen, that I have this inability to stand still when I play. It’s just not gonna happen,” he continued, pointing out the stand still and stare approach that came about sometime after the 90s hay day – bands slouching through their sets as if each song created a hangover – that still continues today is something that he just can’t connect with. “If you’re gonna play a show, play a show. Nobody goes to a show to say they went to listen to a band. They’re going to see a band. Plus I want it to be worth it for me. If we play a show and I’m not bleeding at the end of it, I feel like I didn’t do well enough.”

Mice in Cars newest offering is a two song digital EP titled Good Men Are Monsters. The opening riff to “Exit Interview” – an innocuously brooding bass line – comes by way of bassist Mark Parker. As the song groans to a state of cracking distortion, it’s clear they have taken the path treaded by Bitch Magnet and Rodan: the curdling feeling that is more like a slow decent than an uprising. John’s guitar welds the melody while the man behind the drum kit and surrounded by used electronics and keys, Nick Johns, pins it all down with a controlled yet hyper-active beat.

This image of the band isn’t the same as it was in their beginning. When they formed in 2006, Mice in Cars were a foursome; one that fumbled in a Dinosaur Jr. like fuzz, which you can clearly hear in the band’s self-described “shit EP” – 53 Bicycles and a Dead Man. Once they were down a guitar, the aggression became a head figure in the songs.

The sprawl of the musical landscape of Atlanta has always allowed for many musical avenues to present themselves as bands are able to meander through experimentation in a competition for mind-fuckery, but all this breeds the possibility for cliques. Often misplaced as a post-rock band, Mice in Cars have resided in that gray area in between the varied crowds that will attend one show but not the other. Not to mention that the misnomer post-rock has and always will sound unequivocally boring enough not to care.

“Every band you talk to is going to say ‘We’re the outcast,’” Johns goes on to explain. “I guess it’s the hip thing to do but also because we’re working together in rooms like this.” He points to amps and poster filled walls, a very claustrophobic space when under the right influences. “Basically it’s like being a writer. You work in isolation, and then you go out into the world and apply your wares. Atlanta is a city where it’s really easy to feel isolated.”

But, John contends, if you really want that feeling of comfort and belonging, you have to reach out to people. If you end up watching the three at Nophest, which the band will be playing at The Earl for the festival’s sixth year, and are in front, be aware that you might be a part of the decimation of notes in the finale of their set as John happily hands off his guitar. “It’s funny to see the look on people’s faces,” Parker laughs. “People just don’t expect that anymore because people come to rock shows and just stand there and drink beers,” Johns adds.

Before the words ended and the band began to propel their joints back into movement, John began to slowly circle his riff on “Exit Interview”. The resonance of Nirvana’s “Something in the Way” is undeniable. Try as we might to mask our influences with volume and new compositions, we just can’t escape the fact that our loves always bleed through.

Mice in Cars will be playing Nophest Friday, August 24th at The Earl.

http://www.facebook.com/MiceinCars
http://miceincars.bandcamp.com/

Photo Credit: Zach Beiser

The Point: Atlanta, Georgia is Choke City USA

The Argument, Abridged: Modern Atlanta sports franchises never fail to create hope for fans during the regular season, only to collapse splendidly in the playoffs.

The Evidence, Abridged: The ‘07-‘12 Hawks seasons, the ‘08,‘10,‘11 Falcons seasons, the ‘10 Braves, that one season when the Thrashers made the playoffs and got swept by the Rangers in the first round.

The Argument, Expanded: First, let me just say outright that I support all of Atlanta’s sports teams. I own a Braves cap that is many years old, several pieces of Hawks memorabilia and (I don’t wear football jerseys. I’m too thin.) I cheer hard for the Falcons these (post-Vick the Dick) days. Shit, I even own an Atlanta Thrashers beanie. Although I am a transplant to this city, having moved here for the first time in January of ‘02, I have long-since considered this place my home. One of my favorite shirts is an ‘I <3 ATL’ shirt. In short, I like to represent the city in which I live.

Here’s the bad news, though: Atlanta is a nationwide joke when it comes to sports.

It’s true! And here, here and here are some pieces of evidence to prove it.

But, that’s just what other people say, right? We shouldn’t listen to outside influences when it comes to admiring our own athletes. Or should we? The articles linked above each mention Atlanta’s fanbase as a major reason for the low national opinion of the city as a sports center. And when the media says the same thing repeatedly, the average person tends to believe it. I even bought that excuse for a while, allowing the blame for the failures of our franchises to rest partially on my own shoulders.

You know what, though? Fuck that bullshit.

It’s not my fault!(Or yours!) It’s the goddamn teams.

The Evidence, Expanded: Okay, we’re going to get a bit technical here. Bear with me as I examine the recent postseason performances by our teams.

The Braves: The only recent postseason appearance by the Atlanta Braves was the 2010 season in which the Braves narrowly captured the Wild Card spot in the National League. The season was notable as it was long-time manager Bobby Cox’s final season. The late regular season push by the Bravos electrified fans who wanted to see something special go down in the beloved Cox’s last year at the helm. When we landed the Wild Card spot, Braves fans surged in support of their team. The end result was the Braves lost in four games at the hands of the San Francisco Giants. Lame.

It should also be noted, when discussing Atlanta sports history, that the Braves hold the only championship for any team based in Atlanta. It came in the 1995 season when the Braves defeated the Cleveland Indians in six games to win the World Series title. This win, however, stands in stark contrast to the fact that those same Braves made the playoffs eight times in the nineties (including an insane five World Series appearances) and only came out with a single win.

Still, thanks Braves. Without you, we’d literally have nothing.

The Falcons: Several years back, the Atlanta Falcons stood on the shoulders of a giant. Michael Vick was supposedly the best thing since canned dog food and his tandem running/passing game was supposed to revolutionize our offense and carry the Falcons in a new millennium. (See what I did there?)

Then came the infamous dog torture revelations. The Falcons quickly parted ways with the criminal known as Vick. A good decision, to be sure. In the wake of the disastrous rupture, the Falcons drafted a sought-after Boston College QB. Ryan, although young and untested, showed Atlanta fans the meaning of Great White Hope, putting together four winning seasons in a row.

This, coupled with a fresh strategic direction under the supervision of new head coach Mike Smith, promised to allow the Falcons to soar. So far, though, things haven’t quite worked out for the boys in red and black. Despite his other-worldly early success of the Ryan/Smith duo, the spark simply never ignited into post-season success.

The dreams of Falcons fans, made vivid and seemingly reachable by four impressive seasons in a row, turned into three playoff appearances and three playoff defeats.

Ryan and Smith have now gone 0-3 in the postseason, having yet to put together even a marginally acceptable performance in that span. We lost to the underdog Cardinals in ‘08, failed to make the playoffs in ‘09, got the shit kicked out of us by the Packers in ‘10 and then finished the ‘11 season with one of the most embarrassing losses of all-time at the hands of the New York Giants.

The Thrashers: Honestly, not even worth discussing. Let’s all try to just communally forget that they even existed. Wait…you already did? Okay then.

The Hawks: Even in the glory days of the legendary Dominique Wilkins, the Atlanta Hawks proved unable to capture championship gold. In fact, this article is really about the Hawks. I went to game two of the Eastern Conference Quarter Finals this season and watched as our Hawks took an eleven point lead in the third, only to collapse and lose by seven. It was really an illustration of the overall attitude that Atlanta teams seem to have in the postseason.

But this isn’t the first time the Hawks made me pop a boner only to leave me with (red and) blue balls. The Hawks have made the playoffs the last five season in a row, not once advancing past the second round.

In fact, the Hawks have made the playoffs an unbelievable twenty-eight times since moving to Atlanta without once coming home with some shiny new rings.

Is that even actually possible???

The Conclusion: Some of Atlanta’s recent postseason woes are understandable. For example, all three of the Falcons’ flops have come against teams that went on to either play in or win the Super Bowl. The Braves’ close loss to the Giants was disappointing, but the Giants went on to win their first World Series title in half a century.

But that’s cold comfort, is it not? I’m simply not satisfied with teams that do nothing more that act as a stepping stone for other teams’ advancement into greatness. I mean, are you?

They call Atlanta a poor sports city, but I have to disagree. Atlanta is a great sports city – one of the best – until the regular season ends.

As I write this, our Atlanta Braves are currently off to one of the best starts in recent history. They seem to have all of the tools to make a stab at the World Series.

But it’s all too familiar.

I’m rooting for the Braves hard, let me assure you, but that specter of amassed failures lurks in my mind, making it difficult to have any real faith. And you know what? That makes me fucking sad.

So, where does it end?

Well, one of two places.

We’re either going to finally ride the Matt Ryan/Josh Smith/Jason Heyward rockets to the Moon or (as they’ve all shown the tendency to do) we’re going to continue to explode shortly after launch leading us to another dismal period of “franchise rebuilding” like the one that took place from 2000-2007.

If the latter occurs, I predict that the Falcons fan attire in five years will include a paper bag over the old shame-filled noggin.

Wait…you’re telling me that even that ‘Aints won a Super Bowl?!?

God. Fucking. Damn. It.