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nathan moomaw lives in a box
with pinholes through the lid just large enough to spray light on him, yet
small enough to keep the fruit flies away. he was born in the woods, educated
in a discipline far less important than music and has found out what it takes
to live in a city run by agendas far larger than the living vessels that try
to fulfill them.
like many people nathan has
been in love. like many people nathan has discovered that broken bones, the
flu, getting stitches and surgery don't really hurt. like many people nathan
likes to be a witness of beauty.
and there's more here than that.
there's the feeling of bees that fly up your spine and rest at the crown of
your head while your face seeps morning dew. and this is all that matters.
Why am I Antifolk?
Well, if the music scene was Kindergarten, Antifolk would consist of (but
not limited to) the following group of kids:
-the kid that runs around pulling his/her pants down
-the kid that eats paste by the handful
-that quiet kid whose name no one can remember
-the obviously gay kid
-the kid of "those hippies"
-the kid who never came back from recess
-the kid who argues classroom procedure with the teacher
-the kid whose entire life is shaped by that one incident where he/she
didn't make it to the lavatory in time
Why am I considering myself Antifolk? Because I've been that kid and
hanging out with the rest of them all my life.
pants down, paste on lips,
nathan.
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