Portland, Ore.-based Miles Kurosky is what old-time journalists used to call a “great quote.” He’s one of the few interview subjects you’ll find in the music biz these days who’s totally unafraid to step on a few toes to get his point across. And he’s got the musical chops to back up his shoot-from-the-hip posture. Kurosky’s previous band, Beulah, was a true California original, good enough to catch the ear of pop genius Robert Schneider of Apples In Stereo, who released the first Beulah album under the banner of the Elephant 6 collective. As is the case with other creative one-man shows (Grandaddy’s Jason Lytle, for example) the transition from band to solo career is as simple as painting a new name on the office’s glass door. The Desert Of Shallow Effects (Majordomo) is every bit as exhilarating as anything Kurosky has ever cut. Kurosky will be guest editing magnetmagazine.com all week. Read our brand new Q&A with him and more about Beulah.
Kurosky: I was raised Catholic. After my mom and dad got divorced—and my mother was refused communion by the church—I remained a Catholic. After I received a borderline inappropriate back massage from a priest in the rectory whilst stuffing envelopes, I still remained a Catholic. However, during my senior year of high school, my father went crashing through the windshield of his car, breaking his neck. He would spend the next six months bedridden. Unfortunately, he didn’t have insurance, and soon the family was teetering on bankruptcy. Again, being a good Catholic, I attended Catholic school, which is not free. In fact, it can be quite expensive, especially for someone like my mother, who cleaned houses for a living because she didn’t want her children to become latch-key kids. So there we were, the Kurosky family, broke and broken. My mom explained our situation to the head priest/principal. She asked for more time or the possibility of setting up a payment plan while she looked for a second job. His response was less than Christian. He told her that I would not graduate, and that my transcripts would not be sent to colleges unless she procured the money immediately. Apparently, charity was not a virtue at the school. He left my mother no choice. She would need to beg. Friends, neighbors, it didn’t matter, just beg. That was my last day as a Catholic.
Now, I can hear what some of you are saying: “What’s your fucking point, Kurosky?” Well, my point is that I believe that Catholicism, and the events mentioned above, led me to convert to Buddhism in 2008. Actually, I don’t know if “convert” is the right word. Let’s just say I married into it. My wife was raised a Jōdo Shin Buddhist. In fact, her grandparents helped build the temple in Oakland, and her uncle is the present-day minister of the temple in Palo Alto. When I first met my wife, my knowledge of Eastern religions began with The Tao Of Pooh and ended with Hesse’s Siddhartha. That is to say, I didn’t know shit. During the years that my wife and I dated, I’d pick up a little pearl here or there, but it wasn’t until my wedding day that I actually “got it.” It was right after reciting these words during the ceremony:
I am a link in the Buddha’s Golden Chain of Love that stretches around the world. I will keep my link bright and strong. I will be kind and gentle to all living beings and protect all who are less fortunate than myself. I will think pure and beautiful thoughts, say pure and beautiful words and do pure and beautiful deeds—knowing my karmic actions now will affect my happiness as well as the happiness as others. May every link in the Buddha’s Golden Chain of Love become even brighter and stronger. And may we all achieve peace, harmony and bliss.
Let me tell you, that vow is a daily struggle, but what an amazingly selfless thing to say on one of the most potentially selfish days of one’s life. At that moment, I was sold. Since then, I credit Buddhism for peace, clarity and, most importantly, perspective. In short, I have never been happier. Although, I think getting back into the music business may threaten that tranquility. Even worse, the guy at Best Buy told me and the missus that we were going to hell unless we accepted Jesus Christ as our savior. Well, that’s cool, because if that cocksucker priest gets into heaven, I want no part of it. See, I told you it was daily struggle.
Video after the jump.
Kurosky: Since I’m a musician and because I’ve lived in two very liberal cities, you can imagine what a dinner party is like with my friends. If not, just go to 
Portland, Ore.-based 
To those who loved them, Glasgow, Scotland’s 
Pollock: 
Pollock: I have a memory of a terrible hangover when I was in my early 20s, in the summer, after a gig probably, in Glasgow. I woke up early, which always seems to be an early sign of a bad hangover with me. (My body would rather I be conscious when going through it, apparently.) The only thing I could think of was cold, very cold, 
Pollock: I must admit I didn’t take to 
Pollock: 
Pollock: Ever since my dad bought a 
Pollock: I’ve never really been too actively interested in visual art or painting as such, but I have become increasingly aware of 
Pollock: I found out about 
Pollock: 
Pollock: I’ve always been a great fan of 
New Yorker 
Green: 
Green: I used to live in 
Green: If I die during this record-cycle, I hope that people will not try and pretend that I was a good person. Everything I did was because I hated God. When I wasn’t being an asshole to you directly, I was googling myself on the Internet like an arrogant prick. I only made music to make you feel bad that you didn’t have any talent. I probably bossed you around and paid you money just to do stupid things that amused me. If something good happened in your life, I didn’t care about it. At best it could be said that I did everything just to get laid, but the truth is that it’s because I was bored, and that’s worse. Video after the jump.
Green: Girls With Attitude is a Canadian supergroup produced by 
Green: People want to know what 
Green: If 
Green: When people say that your girlfriend looks like she’s 16, that is a good thing! I often find myself getting all mixed up with 
Green: I find myself trying to clean the scum off the streets. There is a class of people who are total scum. Sometimes they are in it for themselves, and other times they act as the executor of someone else’s master plan. Either way, when you walk around the city, you can witness these seedy scoundrels who prey on those who aren’t willing to put up the fight. I’ve had these scumbags curse at me for not getting excited when they fan their disgusting plumage at me. They come up to me when I’m trying to chill in Chinatown and start peacocking to my face. The other night, I got into a staring contest with some low-life who was doing a tough-love shtick while simultaneously trying to orchestrate a business deal with me. While I admire Jack Daniel for his great skill as a businessman, it’s funny to me that the biggest scumbags are corporate-exec types. This particular class of scum operates on such a low level that they will attempt to suffocate you with their pseudo-passions. Trying to approximate the vigor of an entrepreneur, they will chain you to a post and rape you for their bosses. They are high on head-pats, trapped in a dog-dream wherein the pet suddenly overtakes his master. It’s so hard to clean up the scum because it’s illegal to kill these people and they aren’t always criminals. There is nothing exciting about scumbags, however they can approximate the emotional cues that are commonly associated with excitement. Please remember that these bottom-feeders are rotten to the inner-core. The scumbag is essentially a person whose soul is a fart. Like the dragon who steals the princess and the gold, the scumbag will do anything to acquire and then protect things that they have virtually no use for. Video after the jump.
Green: There is a war between jazz and punk. People say that there are approximately 22 million jazz songs in the world, but as of 2010, it is considered fact that there are 23 million punk songs! So the crust punks say that the jazz songs are easier to write because the jazzers just make them up on the spot. But the jazzbos will quickly retort that the punk songs take no skill or talent to write. Video after the jump.
Green: My uncle Grahame drives a tour bus. He sleeps for five hours most nights. He never lets me take girls on the bus because he misses the old days when the drivers got more blowjobs than the band. Yesterday when I was on mushrooms, he came into the dressing room and I thought he was a cop. There came a time when we needed to take drugs across the Italian border. We kept the drugs in a jar of salsa, and the dogs couldn’t find it. It’s true that people don’t even know what tour buses are, so drivers are known as “road warriors” and it’s a secret society. The drivers are all comrades and Grahame even thinks that he has gypsy blood (i.e., he eats hedgehogs).
Green: Firstly, I feel indifferent about the government, so you can imagine that I was surprised when 
When 
Barzelay: I met 
Barzelay: My friend Mason from Nashville’s own 
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