The first episode of The Way Of Things was a triumph in itself; a distillation of no only my personal music history, but an introduction to the whole idea of this marvelous show and yes, it is god-damn marvelous. This began a year-long crusade for local bands, extremity, and the abolition of the notion of the guilty pleasure.

It also marked the beginning of a shift in my depression, my view of myself as a person of worth, and an untold amount of shit happening behind the scenes that I won’t mention here.