On May 18th we're playing at Cafe Du Nord, with a very capital Australian band known as YOUTH GROUP.

It's an over 21 show, and it starts at 7.

It's a bit ironic that it is an over 21 show considering the nature of the Headliner's name, and the ages of our members (the sum of which is 56).

rest assured, we have many All Ages shows in the works.

*note*
Cafe Du Nord is on Market St, right off of Church.
you can take the K, L, M, T, J, N, 22, 24, 1, and whatever else comes to mind. OR, BART to 16th street, then either it's a lovely walk, or a short trip on the 22.

Ahem:

"They have a unique, almost disruptive sound that's jarring on some of their songs, but works for them. Picture listening to a Siouxsie & the Banshees song, that changes from Peek-a-Boo, to Love in a Void, back to Peek-a-Boo and finishing off with Cities in Dust...

"This package isn't a bad thing. They're still young and can really bust out the jams that transport you to a time where they'd be regulars on John Peel's show in the '80s. And, it's so damn cute"

-SF Gate, December 23, 2008

So this strange phenomenon has begun, where people are deciding in mass numbers that Tinkture is quite spiffy.

Roisin tied with Peaches Christ in The SF Weekly's "Best of SF 2008" for most fashionable. (Peaches Christ, by the by, is quite a lady. Cult Leader, and Tranny Superstar, she is not only an icon- but a Filmmaker and organizer of such events as Midnight Mass, TrannyShack, and the SF Underground Short Film Festival. www.myspace.com/peacheschrist)



we also got photographed for the Style section of the Chronicle (Grace was in New Orleans, so we got a stand in entourage) in March.



our entourage consists of seamstress extraordinaire, Justin Moreno; budding style icons Phoebe Morgan and Siobhan Willing; and Hiroshi Kurakata (who's just plain awesome).

Request Us:



Pirate Cat Radio (87.9 fm SF, LA; 104.8 Berlin)

(415) 341-1199



West Add Radio (93.7 fm SF)

(415) 568-7866



KUSF (90.3 SF)

(415) 751-KUSF



Live 105 (105.3 SF Bay Area)

(415) 478-LIVE



KALX Berkeley (90.7 fm SF Bay Area)

(510) 642-KALX



Free Radio Santa Cruz (101.1 fm)

(831) 427-3772



Free Radio Olympia (98.5 fm)

(360) 705-9780



KSLG Humboldt (94.1 fm)

(707) 786-5784



KFJC Los Altos (89.7 fm)

(650) 941-2500

I do not how to niftily link a picture or sentence to a URL, so here's the whole long drawn out shabang

http://phobos.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewArtist?id=263646567

use the long ass URL above, and you will be mysteriously transported to iTunes, where cool things will happen. Namely, purchasability of a fraction of the Beezie EP.

Now, for some nifty HTML action:



oh ho ho, convenient- I know.



xoxo



-Roisin

So on Fourth of July (7-4-7), while sitting in Dolores Park watching the various Pyrotechnics, I suddenly noticed that something emmitting bright pink flames had fallen directly next to me.

This is how it all began, and what happened next has been subject to several rumors.

SUCH AS:

1) I caught, grabbed, pushed, or in some way touched the explosive.
2) I'm 16 years old and rich.
3) Grace plays the bass.
4) My whole hand got blown off/my musical career is over.
5) The police caught the guy that did it.
6) My family and I desperately want to catch him.
7) Someone threw a firework at me.

Let address the last first. FALLACY NUMBER 7: Someone threw a firework at me.

The thing about fireworks is that they are explosive material tightly wrapped in paper, so when they blow up, all you really have to worry about is the fire itself. What got thrown at me was a spent CO2 cartridge (like a Whip-It but bigger) stuffed with dynamite (taken from several M80's) and fixed with a hobby fuse (for model airplanes). In this case, the explosive material is contained within a metal shell, legally deeming it a Bomb. Unlike a firework, when bombs go off they expel shards of metal capable of breaking several of the bones in a hand while removing much of it's skin an tissue. I mean, among other things.

FALLACY NUMBER 1: I caught, grabbed, pushed, or in some way touched the explosive.

I was asked that a lot in the hospital, if I had grabbed it. First off, the damage was done to the back of my hand; second off, I'm not that stupid. What happened was I noticed it on the ground, as I mentioned before, pink flames. The flames were pink because the last part of a hobby fuse is red, to warn you that you have mere seconds until whatever it is will go off. The video of that night shows the bright light being thrown from above, making an arc, landing, and less than a second later, exploding. I must have seen it right when it landed because I knew to get away right quick and I did. The reason only my hand got hurt is because that's what I put on the ground to push up and propel myself away fast.

FALLACY NUMBER 2: I'm 16 years old and rich.

I'm 17 years old and very poor. Hence the whole not-having-insurance thing. I'm not going to offer proof or try to convince anyone, but I'll give my word that I'm not exaggerating or under some incorrect dillusion of my own poverty. But that's really not important, the point is that to all the people who have said "who cares if some rich bitch gets her hand blown up" or some variation thereof: even if it was a rich girl this happened to, is it any less tragic? Am I more worthy of support and sympathy because I'm poor? Do rich people (especially young rich people, who were simply born that way) deserve suffering? Anyway, I think that rumor came from my father's e-mail when he mentioned a reward. He never had that sort of money, and him offering it was nothing more than a devastated father desperately trying to help a situation that could not be helped. He knew he was offering what he didn't have, but he thought that involving money was the only way to make people care. In that sense he had understated the goodness of people (but I can't blame him for being pessimistic right then), the outpouring of unconditional support and help from the community has been staggering.

FALLACY NUMBER 3: Grace plays bass.

Grace plays guitar. The two reasons why I think this mistake keeps happening a) guitarists are usually singers, so because Maggie sings they assume Grace plays bass
b) it rhymes.

FALLACY NUMBER 4: My whole hand got blown off/my musical career is over.

Pshh, it would take losing a hell of a lot more limbs to stop me playing drums. Also, all I lost was my index finger, which isn't that great of a finger anyway.

Whay happened was my index finger got shattered (the bone was like mush) and most of the tissue and tendons got blown off, my middle finger was pretty badly broken and lost some tissue and tendon, my ring finger is normally broken and lost the tissue around my knuckle, my pinkie and thumb are fine.

FALLACY NUMBER 5: The police caught the guy that did it.

Nope, they arrested someone else for entirely different reasons, the guy that threw the bomb at me is still frollicking unchained (besides for the shackling guilt).

FALLACY NUMBER 6: My family and I desperately want to catch him.

As I've said, my father's e-mail should no longer entertain any attenetion. While I think the bomb slinger should be caught, because he strikes me as dangerous, (he stabbed someone that same night. They were fine, but still) I don't have any burning desire to see him behind bars. I don't harbor any Resentment; rather, I don't think of myself as a victim, so the person that hurt me really isn't an issue to me. Catching the person probably won't give me any satisfaction, and it definitely won't grow my finger back.


xoxo
-Roisin

PS- also, I saw online:

"when your parents name you Roisin, something like this is pretty much inevitable

your parents already hate you, its all downhill from there"

I think this guy thought it was pronounced Royzin.
no no no
It's pronouced Roh-sheen, which is considerably prettier.

PIRATE CAT RADIO:

http://www.drinkswithtony.com/tinkture.html

PIRATE PODS:

5 people, 3 cities, 4 way conference call, and no one was in their own home.

http://www.myspace.com/piratepods

or

http://www.piratepods.com/piratepods/music%20feb%2007/12C4155E-12DA-4216-BB86-E3ECC3EB0DBA.html

'In 1991, Nirvana's "Smells Like Teen Spirit" was in heavy rotation on MTV, "Terminator 2" was No. 1 at the box office and the three members of Tinkture, an all-girl punk band from San Francisco, were still in their diapers and learning to walk.

'"We played cover songs for about a year in middle school; it was pretty lame," said Grace Harpster, who plays bass* and, at 17, is the oldest member of the band. "We actually started to write our own songs and, from then on, we were Tinkture."

'When the girls from Tinkture talk, they don't exactly interrupt one other but almost speak in one voice and finish each other's sentences.

'"We're all really good friends and we've known each other for a really long time," says Maggie Gaster, 16, guitarist and lead singer. "And our brains really work together."

'And so does their musical synergy. With driving punk rhythms, impeccable timing and the unique vocal styling of Gaster, they've developed a sound all their own. Early music from the Cure comes to mind, just because they stood out from their contemporaries in the early '80s.

'The girls are serious about their band and consider it a way of life.

'"A lot of people do that thing where they're in many, many different bands and they wanna just jam all over the place, which is good if that's what you do," Harpster says. "But I think that's why a lot of bands don't stay together for four years. So we try to, like, keep it Tinkture and make sure that we're not running around and doing little stints with other bands."

'Without missing a beat, both Roisin Isner, Tinkture's 16-year-old drummer, and Harpster look to Gaster and say, "Maggie!"

'Gaster shrinks in her chair and admits that she went on a small tour with a different band that included playing the South by Southwest music festival in Austin, Texas.

'"We were so jealous," Isner says.

'"We were not jealous," Harpster says. "If one of us were gone from Tinkture, Tinkture would just collapse and die, you know."

'"We can't replace members," Isner says, finishing Harpster's thought.

'Their show this weekend at the Eagle Tavern will be their first 21-and-older club show. "But we've played all-ages shows at Slim's, Bottom of the Hill and 924 Gilman," Gaster adds.

'They've been performing live for years, and it shows in their confidence.

'"It's a sin to miss band practice," Harpster says.

'"We're going to stay together forever," Isner says.

'"You couldn't find another three like us or it wouldn't work ..." Harpster says.

"... the Tincture," Harpster and Isner say at the same time.'
-SF Chronicle, January 18 2007

*Grace plays guitar, but alliteration just isn't as strong as a straight on consanant ryhme

ALPHA TRAUMA! (2008)

There's always something new to fear,
I tell you and it's true, my dear.
It's not like anything would change
The world would still be very strange
747, Pyrotechnics,
Was there no way to protect from this?

ALPHA TRAUMA (2007)

Is this your job?
Then I'd rather be me.
I sang "I believe in love"

At the time, I wanted it to end
But now I want to see it again
To remember what happened
It was the pin in the end.

I feel like an impostor
of the brave girl with the hand
The clever boy in the band.

I wonder if I'll ever be,
anything but an amputee.
All the parts were put in place
the day, I decided "I love-"

I feel like an impostor
of the brave girl with the hand
The clever boy in the band.

747, Pyrotechnics
Was there no way to protect from this?

At the time I wanted it to end
But now I want to see it again
To remember what happened
It was the pin in the end.

ENID (2007)

Slowing slithering up the glass,
Making your way slyly past,
Someone's in your room,
You hope they leave soon.

And if they don't leave fast,
You will have to break the glass.

Enid, it's all for you.
Enid, what should I do?

So you weren't expecting to enjoy
this visitor intruding on your room,
But to your surprise
their stay was quite nice.

Now you try to slither past
hoping they won't leave fast.

Enid, it's all for you.
Enid, what should I do?

POOR EUGENE (2007)

Well welcome into my hotel,
Freshly cleaned with simple green.
And my tiles, they are singing,
But I know that that can't be.
It's such a lovely place,
Do you like it my friend?
I think I heard it again.
I wonder what it might have been.

Well some rats really like their cats,
But that's no excuse.
"Why oh Why-"
My hints are no use.
There's something wrong,
And I wasn't hear for '69.
Stop testing my patience,
These airwaves are mine.

It's just so odd, so unexplained.
Loneliness makes things so strange.
And it's gotten worse since we began.
And I wonder, can he hear us back?

IF IT (2007)

He wants to talk about the day,
Because it's on his mind, but it's more about me.
About what I want to create.
Making sure that I'm OK.
He wants to talk about the day.
He's got to work on meaning what he says,
Because I'm finding that it boils down to
convenience, assumptions, and "why not"'s.

And I don't know exactly what this could leave,
But I know that it won't lead back to me.

It says it's going home,
Oh yes, it's says it's going home.
It says it's going home,
If so, I'll never be alone.
And if it goes, and there's something there
to make all this irrelevant, then I won't care.

They want to talk about the day.
They acknowledge the importance will always remain.
Isn't concern too hard to fake?
It makes me think, then switch back to the view that I take.
They want to talk about the day.
They want to put back everything in it's place.
Let's have a contest to see who runs away,
They want to talk about the day.

And I don't know exactly what to propose,
But I know that it won't lead back to me.

It says it's going home,
Oh yes, it's says it's going home.
It says it's going home,
If so, I'll never be alone.
And if it goes, and there's something there
to make all this irrelevant, then I won't care.

And after this request,
I'm getting tired, but it's for the best.
It's for the best, but I'm not sure
That I need the best anymore.

747 (2007)

I have a temper too, you know
I tell you, and it's true, you know
But what else could it be to know
that you're still seeing me.
This show-

A fight, go figure
I might just have to bear my temper
But I won't contribute,
I will not continue.

No change occurred that I can see
No rapture has come over me
I've stunted my epiphany
And I don't know just how to be.

Where else can we go from here?
The time has passed, but I'm still unclear.
What else can we do,
There's nothing left to do.

A fight, go figure
I might just have to bear my temper
But I won't contribute,
I will not continue.

JUNGLE MAN (2006)

Your skill is impressive,
Your stature depressing,
He thinks what you say is a lie.
Your concepts do bore him,
Your background destroy him,
But he's something you can't deny.

Jungle Man,
He came with no plan,
You cannot fix him,
You must permit him,
He won't go break through,
The machines that made you,
But he won't set foot near where they are.

Reusing a reason,
That one Genial treason,
To grant you just one glare more light.
Rebellions predicted,
He can tell that with it,
You'll just make things worse for your fight.

I'm trying so hard
To deliver all this down,
It goes over, and over, and over again
When there's nothing to offer,
Who can say no?

The fruit fish ad birds,
Are recycling the words,
Which inspire my feelings of hate.
Watching for plea's,
Against enemies,
He promises it's not too late.

Jungle Man,
He came with no plan,
You cannot fix him,
You must permit him,
He won't go break through,
The machines that made you,
But he won't set foot near where they are.

COLOR-LACKING VOID (2006)

Let's make this poignant: Now they're pointing at me.
I ate a kitten, so they said I've done PCP.
It's there opinion, but I still think it's wrong
to try and judge me, but I'm playing along.

What of it now, you know it's all fun and games.
You think you know me, you think that I'm hardly sane.
Don't try and question it, don't call it crack,
I'm just a joker, there's 2 more in the pack.

You think it's all just a ploy
To destroy
Your color-lacking void.

You may believe I'm in my own little land,
But that's because you're fucking horribly bland.
You think I'm stupid, and avoid eye-contact,
Because you nitpick all your goddamn facts.

I'll tell you something, it might be far too complex.
Nevermind, you hardly passed the test.
Don't condescend to me, you bloodsucking bat-
I'll kick you out my door and use you as a fucking doormat.

You think it's all just a ploy
To destroy
Your color-lacking void.

INSCRIPTION (2006)

I'm not converting,
I'm not converting,
I'm not converting yet.

I'm not turning,
I'm not converting,
I'm not converting yet.
(but I won't deny what I am)

Let's not see I'm
cutting snarls
from my hair.
And I'm bleeding
on the ground,
And I'm not quite sure from where.
(but I won't deny what I am)

And if I'm saying it, I'm screaming it;
Maybe this is just a phase for me?
Not rehab-reject-exia,
Just awkwardness an acne.

People like how they look from the back
You turn around, I'm looking at
Some face I think I've seen before.
It's like a trick, but somehow worse.

I'm reminded
of the walk
to my door.
Broken glass
mixed in to long
an inscription on my skull
(saying that there's something wrong)

And if I'm saying it, I'm screaming it;
Maybe this is just a phase for me?
Not rehab-reject-exia,
Just awkwardness an acne.

People like how they look from the back
You turn around, I'm looking at
Some face I think I've seen before.
It's like a trick, but somehow worse.

PYROTECHNICS (2006)

It will always follow me,
I'm locked into society,
I am what I'm supposed to be,
I know there is no casualty anymore.
Why?

Let's go home, I'm just wasting my time
A lack of better things to do, I guess
Let's just walk away from this place
I never thought it would go so far.

It disappears like pyrotechnics,
I'm not the only one.
Magician gone awry,
It's stinging my eyes.

It seems to me like every day,
Is just another step away,
Check mate in only one more play,
I still maintain that I'm OK.

Let's go home, I'm just wasting my time
A lack of better things to do, I guess
Let's just walk away from this place
I never thought it would go so far.

It disappears, I am robotic
There are no feelings here.
My senses spark and fry,
But don't say I'll die.

Let's go home, I'm just wasting my time
A lack of better things to do, I guess
Let's just walk away from this place
I never thought it would go so far.

Things change, we all go on,
I've lost my sense of what is right from wrong.
It's taking all my sanity,
But you're locked up in morality.

Let's go home

RESENTMENT (2005)

There is some disagreement
And I'm the only one in it
And that's the way it'll stay.
But that's not to say
I like things better this way
It just hasn't changed
In so long.

And they know,
just like I do
And they say,
and I say it too
That it's stupid,
and unstoppable too.

I don't know why I'll never be happy
for you, and your fortunes too.

Why do I see your face
Everywhere that mine should be?
Why do our similar tastes
Caste me to second place?

I don't want what you have
But I don't think that you
Deserve it either.
It's a bad way to think,
A little self destructive
But I just can't shake it.

And they know,
just like I do
And they say,
and I say it too
That it's stupid,
and unstoppable too.

I'LL JUST LIE (2005)

You said so much,
I remember it all.
Everything you said,
Everything you told me
I believed.
It's been so long,
I'm reduced to a
Specific memory.

It's gone away,
And I'm resigned.
Outside at least.

How much you know,
Is such a mystery.
But what you think-
Information coveted by me.
I've got no choice,
I've got to keep my head down.

And it they ask why,
I'll just lie.

I'D RUN (2005)

How many hours of this will wane away
At my tolerance
Until I finally give up?
This must be a problem for lot's of people
Or so I hear, as I sit here
Where are they?

Looking around
I hate having this fun.
Looking around
I'd Run
Which direction?
I can't think in day-to-day
Which direction?
I'm going anyway.

I can't stand,
When they do their games,
And I don't think that this
is funny anymore.

How many hours of this will wane away
At my tolerance
Until I finally give up?
I wonder if one day I'll open my mouth
and spit these words out
And go where?

Looking around
I hate having this fun.
Looking around
I'd Run
Which direction?
I can't think in day-to-day
Which direction?
I'm going anyway.

DOORBELL DITCH (2004)

BEHIND CLOSED DOORS (2004)