Furious Hooves Forever

RIP Ryan McCardle

Ryan McCardle, co-owner of Furious Hooves Records, passed away on Tuesday night from complications from a nasty case of cancer that he suffered from for the last five years. I don’t want to say a “battle” with cancer because I don’t want to imply that he lost. Ryan was not a loser. He was a sweetheart with an indefatigable positive attitude. He didn’t lose, we did.

I first met Ryan in 2015 while on tour with Sharpless and Bellows. It was a two week run down south and then back up to New York. Our southern-most show was an in-store gig at Graveface Records in Savannah, Georgia that Ryan had helped set up. I don’t remember much from the show itself. I remember walking around Savannah and being gobsmacked by the surreal beauty of the weeping willows and vines covering much of the architecture. And I remember hanging out with Ryan. We bonded over our shared love of NBA basketball. He took us all out to a restaurant in a converted VFW hall that served excellent hamburgers. We slept at his apartment. Before we left on our long march back up north we took a group photo, all the members of Sharpless, Bellows, Ryan and his then-girlfriend and eventual wife Jenny, sitting on his stoop. In a tour that was for a number of reasons a bit of a nightmare, this night and morning in Savannah was an undeniable bright spot.

Once I was back home I reconnected with Ryan to review the Furious Hooves compilation Furious Hoops Vol. 1 for Unrecorded. I can close my eyes and see myself sitting at the bar at Jumping Bean in Pilsen, watching my review go live and seeing a text from Ryan pop up, full of heart emojis. The guy loved to send heart emojis.

I moved to New York, we lost contact for a while. We connected again when I started soliciting labels to put out Sisyphean. A bunch of “cooler” labels passed on it or iced me out entirely. Ryan on the other hand was over the moon about it. He believed in Sisyphean when no one else did. Not only did he believe in the music, but he acted on that belief, putting together a beautiful physical presentation for the music. It was his idea to turn each song’s lyrics into their own miniature card, complete with a sigil designed by album artist Joseph Klomes. When he learned that the album was dedicated to the city of Chicago he made sure that every cassette included an old school Chicago Bulls basketball card. I’ve mentioned multiple times in this newsletter that I think the Sisyphean cassette is a beautiful art object, and I worry that the some readers may have thought this was only a marketing angle. I want to tell you now, in this moment of mask off sincerity that no, I genuinely believe that Ryan and Joe made something legitimately beautiful out of my vague ideas.

Around the same time Ryan joined an Instagram group chat of mine about basketball. I had quit Twitter earlier that year and wanted a community of likeminded and overstimulated NBA fans to shoot the shit with. Ryan was one of the first people to sign up. Until roughly a year ago he was a consistent presence, hyping up his beloved Minnesota Timberwolves at any opportunity. In return, he invited me to join the Indie Basketball discord where it turned out he was something of a local celebrity.

I didn’t learn about Ryan’s cancer diagnosis until New Years Eve 2019. God, what an ill omen. I don’t think the two of us ever spoke about it directly. I was scared to and I convinced myself that it was probably the last thing he wanted to talk about. So we kept talking about basketball instead. Still, Ryan was always open about what he was going through. He would describe the details of his chemotherapy, his trips down to New York City from Kingston even during the height of the pandemic. Can you imagine having to travel in and out of COVID-central to receive treatment that actively breaks down your immune system? Somehow he remained himself. He posted haiku movie reviews on Letterboxd. He got super excited about Minnesota Timberwolves guard Anthony Edwards. And he still helped release music, including my own.

In March Furious Hooves put out my most recent album The Lonely Atom. Working on the release was the first time it was clear to me how much cancer had taken from Ryan. We brought in the good folks at People || Places Records to help with the workload that Ryan couldn’t shoulder alone anymore. We still did great work, the cassettes are very pretty, but more than anything I’m just grateful that we got to put anything out at all with Furious Hooves. As the year went on Ryan posted less frequently in our b-ball chat. It wasn’t hard to see that things were not getting better. You can tell that something is going to happen and still be shocked when comes to pass. When Jenny informed Ryan’s social media followers that he had passed away in the night, my heart sank through the floor. I spent the rest of the day in a haze, keeping busy with chores. But when the night’s NBA games started I broke down completely. No one at any age should have to go through what Ryan went through, but it’s extra cruel that someone so young and full of life could be cut down like that. He was dealt the worst possible hand but still played it with a smile on his face. All I can say is that I’m glad he’s no longer suffering.

It’s been overwhelming to see the outpouring of love from Ryan’s friends, family, coworkers, and artistic collaborators. I won’t claim to have known Ryan too deeply, so seeing just how many people he’s touched in his life was startling though not necessarily surprising. You can’t grasp the fullness of someone’s life until it’s gone, I suppose. It makes me wish I had known him better, that I’d made the effort to talk to him more instead of holding up the silly masculine wall of sports-talk. I am grateful at least that this hobby connected me with a network of people who knew Ryan better, at least I could glimpse the rough outline of the love he put out into the world.

I’ve kept a print out of that group photo from 2015 with me since 2022. I took it from a commemorative event held for my friend and bandmate Montana. The picture hung on my wall directly across from my bed at my apartment in Brooklyn so that I would remember Montana every morning when I woke up. Since moving to Chicago it has sat to the side of my computer monitor so that I can look at it while writing. I’m looking at it right now. Most of us look miserable, frankly. It was not an easy tour and it was early in the morning. But Ryan’s grinning from ear to ear, likely oblivious that the rest of us were being such grouches. That’s how I want to remember Ryan. He was one of the most open hearted and sincere people I’ve ever met. I’m going to miss him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Listening Diary ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Here are five songs that I enjoyed listening to recently! You can find a Spotify playlist with all of this year’s tracks here, updated with a new song every Monday-Friday.

“Higurashi” by Masayoshi Fujita (Migratory, 2024)

You’re going to want to crank the volume on this one. In contrast to the musical excess of last week’s diary this track is barely there at all. There’s only one voice, some bugs, and a few very subtle drones. Consider it a break for your ears.

“Open Up Your Fist” by Office Culture (Enough, 2024)

Full disclosure: erstwhile Lamniformes bassist/keyboardist Frank “Friend of Music” Meadows plays synth on this song. Frank plays on a lot of music though, so if I started excluding music just because I know a guy involved I’d be making this section of the newsletter difficult in a not fun way. I love the drums on this one, and the way that the electric harp glides around in the background of the arrangement. I’m sure there’s more to the lyrics than I’m getting on first blush, but WCW crooning “open up your marriage” is the exact kind of sleaze I want from this type of modern sophisti-pop.

“Like a Painting” by Anna McClellan (Electric Bouquet, 2024)

Speaking of Lamniformes collaborators! Anna sang backup vocals on “Prayer of an Open Plain”. I’m honored that she lent her voice to the tune because a) it’s a heck of a distinctive voice and b) it didn’t seem like she was even “doing” music any more when I sent her the track. Clearly that last assumption was premature, because she’s back with a new record! Big fan of the off-the-wall guitar solo on this tune.

“I Can Never Say Goodbye” by The Cure (Songs of a Lost World, 2024)

Immense respect for The Cure returning as nothing but themselves. No attempts to update their sound, no radical reinventions. This is dinosaur goth rock so ancient it might as well be fossilized. I wouldn’t want it any other way. No one but the old masters could deliver a song as heart breaking as this. Any talk of “the trilogy” (Pornography, Disintegration, Bloodflowers) should be extended to include this record.

“Hungry Waters” by Tribulation (Sub Rosa In Æternum, 2024)

I’ve talked a lot over the last few years about how traditional heavy metal has taken on a distinct gothic (and Gothic) tone. Tribulation, Sweden’s most beloved vampire enthusiasts, have a large part to play in that shift. So you’d hope that on their first album in three years that they’d return to show the rest of the children of the night how it’s done. Sadly this album was a bit of a let down. That said, the syncopated piano interlude on this song with the stacked guitar harmonies is excellent stuff.

\ \ \ \ \ Micro Reviews / / / / /

Here are five micro reviews of albums from my vast Rate Your Music catalog. Long time Lamniformes Instagram followers will recognize these from my stories, however they’ve been re-edited and spruced up with links so that you can actually hear the music instead of just taking my word for it.

Axe To Fall by Converge (2009) - Metalcore

My favorite album by my favorite band… is it my favorite album of all time? Hard to say. The capstone of Converge’s unbelievable 00s run. Converge brought in a bunch of guest musicians who help make each track, no matter how short, distinct. The closing pair basically renders the whole Bloodmoon project redundant, and the opening salvo equals any five track sequence on any hardcore album you could name. I owe a lot to Converge, more than can be quantified in a micro review.

No Heroes by Converge (2006) - Metalcore

The most well sequenced album of all time, any genre, any medium. The first six tracks feel like being shot out of a canon, the next two feel like hitting a brick wall. Side B is full of interesting experiments. This is where Kurt Ballou really hit his stride as a producer. Ironically, this album title became a bit of a mantra for me, a reminder not to idolize others but instead see them for who they are, to not wrap up my identity in others but to find it in myself. This logic even applies to the authors of the phrase! They may not be heroes, but Converge sure did write the best metalcore on earth in the 2000s.

Oceanic by Isis (2002) - Post-Metal

The best thing that’s come into my life from reading a webcomic. An unparalleled fusion of heavy metal, post rock, ambient, etc. An obtuse but fascinating concept record about desire and self-negation. One of the biggest influences on my album Sisyphean and an eternally renewing inspiration for everything I’ve made since. Heavy as in vast, pretty when you’d least expect it, holds the listener just far enough away to inspire mystery. One of the best metal albums of all time.

Wavering Radiant by Isis (2009) - Post-Metal

The final Isis album and a bit of an odd duck. The band got steadily more melodic and less heavy with the years, which brought them intentionally or not closer to the sound of progressive rock. With one exception I’m kind of hot and cold on this album relative to the rest of their discography. Sometimes it hits the spot, other times it bounces off the backboard. The exception is “Threshold of Transformation”, one of their best songs, and a fittingly bittersweet finale to their body of work. Aaron Harris goes bug nuts on the drums for the whole album, great work.

Remission by Mastodon (2002) - Metal

Mastodon’s debut full length before they took the world by storm with Leviathan. My friend Henry got this for me as a gift after he watched the song “Burning Man” blow my mind in real time when I heard it over the speakers at Music Matters, thanks Henry! I bet this version of the band ruled live. All of the songwriting choices feel tailored to tear small clubs apart. Mastodon would go on to write songs suited to bigger rooms and better records, but Remission is nothing to sneeze at. Brann Dailor’s athletic drum performance alone is worth a listen. The creative spark is there, but the inferno is yet to come.