This is very sad stuff. Nothing to say but condolences.

John was one of the nicest, most optimistic, sincere guys around. He was funny, a pleasure to hang out with, and passionate about being in a band for all the right reasons. I didn't know Doug or Michael, but it sounds like they were also cut from the same righteous cloth. This is awful, random and senseless.

I last saw the Returnables only 5 weeks ago when they were playing in my basement at a party. They were totally fantastic that night, the best I have ever seen them. I remember John was so enervated by the performance afterwards. The entire band was so happy that night, and so gracious. John was a happy and great guy. This is horrible news, and I hope all their families and closest friends can stay strong.

I buried my grandfather this Thursday.


Let me tell you something about Michael Fucking Dahlquist. When I came to Chicago a few months ago for that string of Shellac shows, I posted here asking for advice on accomodations. A few people kicked around hotel names, and then I got a PM from a certain forum member named Spoot. Well this gentleman offered me his apartment for the weekend - having NEVER met me - since it would be a more comfortable stay than a hotel, and Silkworm would be touring at that same time.

In the mail he sent me his apartment key and a map of everyplace I needed to go, with reccomendations of his favorite things that he thought I should do and see.

I slept in his bed, drank his Newcastle and listened to his records. I cleaned his kitchen, straightend his cds and took his advice. On Sunday he returned late in the evening, we planned to meet after the Shellac show at the bar he felt was the best little place in Chicago, The Hungry Brain. Here's what Michael said about the Hungry Brain:


"Skip all other bars and go to the Hungry Brain at Belmont and Western (on the South side of Belmont about 1/2 block East of Western - tiny little sign on the side, hard to spot unless you're looking for it). When I first moved to Chicago I went looking for my favorite bar. I'd driven past this one a few times, and stopped in for a drink on a Tuesday night or something. As soon as I walked in I knew it was my favorite, and it still is. I want to give you other suggestions, but I'm having a hard time thinking of any reasonable competition."

I wish I could go there now.

Here, we met for the first time. We drank and laughed, with his brother and brother-in-law. They kicked us out at closing time, so we all went back to his apartment and drank and laughed some more. I had to fly home the next day, and was very sad to go. But I left behind a pair of shoes by accident. It took him forever to send them back, but we had so much nice conversation in the meantime, that it didn't bother me much. He was so excited about his new loft, and he sent photos of it.

One day, a box arrived from Chicago. Inside were my shoes. He sent them back to me with a present of the Jay Ryan TapeOp 2004 Josephson poster, that had Albini on it, playing a snare, wearing a bear suit.
In the package as well was a note that closed with these words:

"....I feel confident that I'll see you again."

Michael was so special.

i remember one of the many times i was wandering around the back library of the radio station i dj at, looking for something new to play. i asked our fellow ea poster wiggins for a suggestion, and he named silkworm. the very next day i went out and purchased firewater.
it both saddens and sickens me that something like this is possible. i'm planning on doing a little tribute for the guys during my dj shift tomorrow afternoon.
my condolences.


laura

rachael wrote:I buried my grandfather this Thursday.


Let me tell you something about Michael Fucking Dahlquist. When I came to Chicago a few months ago for that string of Shellac shows, I posted here asking for advice on accomodations. A few people kicked around hotel names, and then I got a PM from a certain forum member named Spoot. Well this gentleman offered me his apartment for the weekend - having NEVER met me - since it would be a more comfortable stay than a hotel, and Silkworm would be touring at that same time.

In the mail he sent me his apartment key and a map of everyplace I needed to go, with reccomendations of his favorite things that he thought I should do and see.

I slept in his bed, drank his Newcastle and listened to his records. I cleaned his kitchen, straightend his cds and took his advice. On Sunday he returned late in the evening, we planned to meet after the Shellac show at the bar he felt was the best little place in Chicago, The Hungry Brain. Here's what Michael said about the Hungry Brain:


"Skip all other bars and go to the Hungry Brain at Belmont and Western (on the South side of Belmont about 1/2 block East of Western - tiny little sign on the side, hard to spot unless you're looking for it). When I first moved to Chicago I went looking for my favorite bar. I'd driven past this one a few times, and stopped in for a drink on a Tuesday night or something. As soon as I walked in I knew it was my favorite, and it still is. I want to give you other suggestions, but I'm having a hard time thinking of any reasonable competition."

I wish I could go there now.

Here, we met for the first time. We drank and laughed, with his brother and brother-in-law. They kicked us out at closing time, so we all went back to his apartment and drank and laughed some more. I had to fly home the next day, and was very sad to go. But I left behind a pair of shoes by accident. It took him forever to send them back, but we had so much nice conversation in the meantime, that it didn't bother me much. He was so excited about his new loft, and he sent photos of it.

One day, a box arrived from Chicago. Inside were my shoes. He sent them back to me with a present of the Jay Ryan TapeOp 2004 Josephson poster, that had Albini on it, playing a snare, wearing a bear suit.
In the package as well was a note that closed with these words:

"....I feel confident that I'll see you again."

Michael was so special.

Wow.

Although I met Michael a few times, I mainly knew him as a monster fucking drummer. The way he played was so cheerfully unhinged, and from what people who knew him say here, that sounds like the way he approached life in general. It's weird to think I'll never again go to a show and see that nearly naked smiling man holding it down.

Besides the music, the way I knew him best was from his tour diaries, which painted a picture of someone totally guileless and happy to be wherever the band was playing. I remember one particular account of a misadventure while looking for love on the road. It's probably still somewhere on the Silkworm site, and I hope I'm rememerbing it correctly. He had just played a show, and was talking to a woman from the audience who kept saying she "couldn't believe" she was talking to "the drummer from Silkworm." She invites him back to her place, and he's thinking "alright!," they're driving along, and as soon as they turn the corner onto her block, they discover her building is on fire.

I saw him a few years ago in New York at a Valentine's Day party at someone's Lower East Side sweatbox apartment. As the evening wore on, some of us ended up hanging out in one of the tiny bedrooms. It was an absurd scene--a bunch of men crammed into a stranger's incongruously hot room on Valentine's Day. Michael was among us, and decided it would be hilarious for him to try to pinch everyone's nipples. And it was.

My condolences to Michael's friends, family, and bandmates, and to those of John and Doug.

These pictures were linked by Mitch on the SKWM website and I just want to see them passed along here because I think they're really good.

mitch wrote:There are some nice pictures of the April Seattle show here.

Those are my drums. He left dents in the heads.


I'm happy I got to see it.

* http://www.photophonic.com/irpg/041605silkworm.html

For reasons unknown I've been banned from posting on their website, so I'll give my thanks and sincere condolences again here. I really wanted to be at this show the pictures were from, but couldn't make it work. Of course it never occured to me that this would be the last chance. Enjoy today for what it can bring, tomorrow holds no promises.

Braden

I almost forgot! I emailed these two scans to Michael sometime in the last couple years after an old copy of the rocket surfaced while cleaning.

http://www.bradenbarclay.com/images/The%20Rocket%20Page%201.jpg
http://www.bradenbarclay.com/images/The%20Rocket%20Page%202.jpg

on the move to Seattle, Michael says... wrote:"I think the guys were following their destiny. They knew their dream drummer was to be found in Seattle."

Enjoy!