Knew It Was A Bad Sign b/w Knew It Was A Bad Sign (live)
scum stats: NOT ON DISCOGS, this is a lathe-cut, couldn't be TOO many copies floating around
So last week I'm sitting in my office when Third Man storefront associate Quinton comes in and tells me "You have a song-o-gram."
He goes on to explain that he's been told it's like a singing telegram, that I could take it in the storefront, in the back portion of the office, or I could reject it.
No way I'm going to reject it, this is clearly a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence, I didn't even know the world still offered approximated singing telegrams (seemed like one of those things that showed up as a movie plot device FAR more than would ever have found real world application for) so I tell him to send them back to the office.
As soon as the singer walked into the room, heavily stylized black eye make-up I knew EXACTLY what was happening and while the initial let down that it wasn't explicitly a singing telegram that someone was sending me.
So this band the Bad Signs had emailed or DM'd me or been in touch some way or another in the past couple of weeks. I'd checked it out and thought that although it was better than most things that get randomly sent my way, I didn't really have any compulsion to reply and didn't think too much about it.
Not too long after I noticed that some Bad Signs posters had been wheat-pasted on a wall next to the Third Man warehouse. No way it was just a coincidence. This was clearly a targeted attack.
And as any guerilla strategist will tell you, convoluted pretense at someone's place of work is the third and final approach to seal the deal. Replete in a workman-like jumpsuit, Samantha Harlow of the Bad Signs gave a little introduction, blew on her pitch pipe, and then sang a strong, impassioned plea to come check out the band at the American Legion Hall in East Nashville where they currently have a Sunday night residency.
Now on previous perusal, the band didn't really float my boat. Going back through the archives, I see that they first emailed me all the way back in 2016. The updated noir take on girl group sound, filtered through a modern dirtied up vibe just didn't speak to me. I feel like the Raveonettes, Dum Dum Girls, Beach House or even Angel Olsen and Lana Del Rey kinda already appropriately appropriated from that cache(t). Via song-o-gram, Samantha's voice definitely broke through and showed legit chops. Her pipes impressed me, even if standing there confronted with it in the middle of my office with seemingly no warning was a little bit awkward.
The best part though...she left me with a half dozen Hi-Fi cookies in a cute pink box, along with three copies of this "Knew It Was A Bad Sign" lathe cut single.
I'm still not sold on the band. I think the theme or approach or whatever you want to call it could possibly work, but that it maybe needs to be tweaked or re-worked, even if just ever-so-slightly. Regardless, I give a two thumbs-up A+ for effort on the balls it takes to roll into a record label and do an on-the-spot singing plug to see the band play live. Also, Quinton has already been instructed to be doubly scrutinous of any future singing telegrams that waltz through the front door. This is a one-time only exploitation, even if it did put a smile on my face.
I'm giving away one of the extra copies of the Bad Signs single here, seemingly unavailable to purchase anywhere, for the best comment posted below. The writing prompt is...when did you know it was a bad sign? You have until the end of the day Wednesday (March 2nd) to post here. Wishing you good luck with your bad signs.
***WINNER HAS BEEN SELECTED***
I knew it was a bad sign when my son was bing bonging around and trying to squash my inner peace. His ridiculous motivation to annhilate the placid groove within our humble shack is enough to give one a heart attack.
I knew it was a bad sign after I went on a first date with a guy. We went to see Sleeping with the Enemy and then went bowling. Whilst bowling, he casually said he felt sorry for the male character in the movie because he seemed to really love her. Needless to say, that was the last date. A few weeks later, I saw him on the news being arrested after a high-speed police chase for robbing a bank and a few restaurants.
Was born on August 28th. Virgo. Was a bad sign until my 20s.
I knew it was a bad sign when my date took a call from his aunt during our dinner at the Thai restaurant, then violently cursed her after hanging up, including calling her the Big C. I knew this wasn’t going to work out, how could I be with someone so volatile AND a Republican? When he told me he was a neat freak, well, then I knew the perfect out! While walking back to my car I told him all about my slovenly roommate and our dirty apartment. Sure I hyperboled it up a bit but I was fighting for my life here. The final nail in the dating coffin, the thing that would ensure that he would never again call, was when we made it to my car. Normally I would be embarrassed to let anyone new see my trash-filled sedan but at that moment I was as proud as could be. Soda cans! Burger wrappers! Books and CDs and tapes and magazines and notebooks and and and…it worked. I was free and the solo ride home felt sweet. His last words to me were a slightly disgusted “this is your car? Huh, ok talk to you later.” And we never did, Amen.
I knew it was a bad sign when I realised that “Dog food lid” spelt backwards was “Dildo of God”.
I knew it was a bad sign when after depositing the letters into the mailbox and turning around…
I was greeted with a mouthful of teeth that was housed in what could only be best described as a 4 legged land shark! And I still had 20 feet of property to navigate to safety…
The thing about me is, as an empath, I never recognize the bad signs until it’s too late. First, he sauntered over, crossing under a ladder on his way. Once he was close enough, he whispered “Macbeth” to me in the middle of the theatre, then asked if I wanted to come talk with him, see his apartment above- “it’s #13, you see, I’d love to show you my record collection and tell you about my recent breakup,” he said with a plastic smile. “Sure thing, I’d love to see your record collection and listen to your troubles.” Once we were inside, I saw that he had a keen interest in taxidermy and swords. He invited me in, offered me a drink & proceeded to give me a tour of his apartment. “This is where I keep her,” he said. Keep who, I wondered, but didn’t ask. “Oh, it’s getting quite late, I think I’ll get going now. If you’d like to exchange numbers, I’d be happy to keep in touch. Maybe you could show me her next time?” The air felt tense for a few minutes. He mimicked my earlier “sure thing” … “yes, another time perhaps.” We exchanged numbers and I headed home. The next day, I saw his face plastered on my morning paper, you wouldn’t even believe what it read. Thanks for reading if you took the time to, until next time !
I knew it was a bad sign when the cowgirl shimmied into your stall singing songs so pure they would make Tonto rethink his loyalties.
I knew it was a bad sign when I saw him riding a horse shirtless.
I knew it was a bad sign any time our little kids got real quiet. Parents, you know.