krisis

Krisis has been creating Crushing Krisis since 2000, writing songs since 1996, and reading comics since 1991. He is a Customer Success and Digital Brand Strategy executive, serial organizer, parent, and feminist, among other things. Based in Philly through 2017, he now resides in Wellington, NZ.

My Whole Crushing Life

May 4, 2009 by krisis

About fifteen years ago I started writing a novel called “Crisis Team.”

It was about being a high school student abducted by a secret organization, and having super-powers. I made Gina read my latest drafts every week in health class.

The particular deux ex machina of the early bits of the novel was that the narrator (AKA me) discovered a super-powered, super-portable laptop that was wirelessly connected to the entire network of the super-secret organization.

Fifteen years later my internet handle is “krisis” and I am writing this post from the back of a SEPTA bus on my 10″ mini-laptop, now empowered with a mobile broadband connection that lets me post from anywhere in the city.

In conclusion:

(1) I am now living in my imagined life; the only difference is that I am a rock star rather than a superhero.

(2) I have to get used to writing posts short enough that I won’t miss my stop.

Not mean enough?

April 30, 2009 by krisis

I’ve been the rotating host of the LP Wednesday night open mic since October, and it’s just recently reached self-sustaining status where we don’t have to plead and beg to get people to attend.

A regular weekly crowd means a slew of musicians who I’m getting know a little better, week by week. One is Trent AKA Stupa Thought. You wouldn’t peg him as someone I’d dig. He plays flat out modern rock with a tinge of hip hop rhythms – stuff that would be easily radio-ready with a fierce band behind him.

I like Trent because he takes music seriously. He’s quick to make light of a blown chord or when I forget to give him an extra round of applause, but when it comes to playing he’s as professional as anyone at the open mic. His arrangements are tight. His vocals are solid. His songs have distinct structure, and he wields a pedal board with looping to add texture.

I try to find a moment to get to know everyone in the room (be on the lookout for my open mic how-to post, coming soon), and I always wind up deep in conversation with Trent. Last week he said an interesting thing to me: “I don’t think any of your songs ever get angry enough. You go right up to the brink, but you always pull back.”

It’s a perceptive comment. I used to be the master of the kiss-off song, but I’ve long since abandoned it as my primary genre. You could argue that I’m mellower now that I’m married. I think it’s more that I comment on myself more now – even in songs about other people – a trend that started with “So Hard.” I think it’s important to root your song’s accusation in something common, and when you are writing something scathing that’s partially about yourself it’s hard not to add a slightly redemptive angle … even if it’s just a vocal that resolves major.

Trent challenged me to come back this week with as nasty a set as I could summon. After some consulting with Elise, I came up with: Splinter (legendarily nasty break-up tune), Bridge (unapologetically fierce alt-tuning rocker from high school), Real You (utter dissection of a false friend), and my “single” Shake It Off – a takedown of passive aggressiveness that was already deemed not mean enough due to the hopeful bent of the chorus.

The set felt awesome. I’m sure my hour of vocal warmups helped, but it was more that I’m not used to seething for four songs anymore. Now that I’m not in that awful place 24/7 I can appreciate a little focused rage. It makes me happy that I wrote the songs – now they’re like pressure valves I can use to blast out a little antipathy at a moment’s notice.

Trent’s assessment? That I certainly picked my nastiest guitar work, but he still feels like I let my vocals redeem the subjects of my wrath.

Can you think of a popular song that’s mean not necessarily because of it’s music, or even its lyrics, but because of a fierce vocal performance that doesn’t scream, growl, or otherwise contort itself? “You’re So Vain” comes to mind.

Comment if you can think of one.

Social Media Club of Philadelphia: The State of Social Media

April 30, 2009 by krisis

Earlier tonight I attended a fantastic networking night and discussion forum hosted by the Social Media Club of Philadelphia.

In a room full of super-mobile urbanites I was the sole attendee clacking away at a laptop, which resulted in my capturing an abridged transcript of the evening. It’s presented below for the utility of my fellow attendees, but you might find it interesting too!

Continue reading for discussions of the following:

Q1: What to say when someone says “I don’t have time for social media.”

Q2: Is Social Media a popularity contest or is social media about genuine relationships?

Q3: Are bloggers responsible for getting the facts right?

Q4: What makes a community real? That is: when does a web site feel like a place to be instead of simply a page of information to visit?

Q5: What are the responsibilities of Web 2.0 services to engage with and respond to the community they serve, and what are the responsibilities of the community to the service?

Q6: How can we best support our social media community and our peers knowing full well we’re often competing for the same clients and client money?

Addicted to Twitter: Pt. 2 – What to tweet?

April 29, 2009 by krisis

It took only seven days for me to appreciate the conversational power of Twitter, and to see why fans use it to follow artists and businesses. As I entered my second week I wondered what I should be tweeting about. I’ve wrangled a consistent audience of blog readers for years, but could I be compelling in 140 character soundbites?

Therein lies the paradox of Twitter. Many people get followed for who they are, rather than what they’re saying. But if you’re not Ashton, Oprah, or even Amanda Palmer, the only people following you for who you are will be your friends and blog readers. Maybe your mom?

That means you need to create a reason to be followed. You need a niche.

Some people skip out on niche-ing and just follow everyone else that they can find, hoping for reciprocal attention. It works – to an extent. You certainly could wind up with a hefty list of followers that way, but what’s the use of 1500 followers you don’t care to read? Are you even writing anything for them to follow and interact with? Wouldn’t a consistent, engaging conversation with 300 be more fullfilling?

Toby Diva eschewed the brute force approach to define her own niche: she’s is using Twitter to write a micro-guide to social marketing, which she’ll subsequently publish as a tangible book.

The idea is original and the content is strong – if you have an interest in social marketing you’d be silly not to follow Toby. Additionally, she’s engaging in conversation – the first time I mentioned her she even wrote me an @ thank-you note for tweeting about her.

In short, Toby is succeeding at Twitter just for talking about the thing that interests her the most.

I realized midway through week two that my twitter-gimmick is the same as my CK gimmick, such as it is. I lead a strange and interesting life! Marketer by day, songwriter by night, and freelancer and non-profiteer on the side.

I leveraged my intense Wednesday as an experiment, first live-tweeting a Lyndzapalooza meeting for the LP twitter, and then offering a play-by-play while co-hosting our weekly open mic with Gina. Suddenly, I was the one people were @ing. Was I live-tweeting an open mic? Where was it? I highlighted the artists, conducted twitterviews, and kept meeting new tweeters as people sent me @s or followed me.

Twitter seemed much simpler to me the next morning. It’s the same as anything else – write what you know and enjoy, and write it well. Even if it’s inane. Converse with like–minded people. And use Twitter to influence what you write elsewhere.

You create a cohesive, compelling, digital identity for yourself – and get to make friends all around the world that you would have never met otherwise.

By the end of my second week on Twitter it was beginning to make sense to me, but I still wasn’t addicted. It took seven more days for that to happen. More on that tomorrow. In the meantime, follow me.

You are sitting next to my wife.

April 28, 2009 by krisis

I’ve now been married for a little over a quarter of a year.

It’s been really swell, aside from the part where I was really pissed off in France for a day or two. And the quality of gouda there more than made up for it.

We’re still the newest newlyweds in most of our social circles, so we’re still getting those ever-so-nebulous questions: “How’s married life treating you? / Is married life any different?”

At first I thought there was inherent comedy in the idea that something so simple as a wedding would have fundamentally altered the nature of our unbroken seven-year relationship.

On second thought, I realized that some things are different. People treat us as more of a team than they used to. I feel more responsible to be a (dys?)functional part of her family. We own a car!

Really, the biggest difference is the way we look at each other when we’re at home watching a movie. I can’t describe it. There’s just something knowing in the glance, like, “I married you just so we could sit around and do this for the rest of our lives.”

That’s a little too intangible of a nuance for elevator chat, so I usually tell people the biggest difference is that now when people sit down next to Elise on the train I say, “Excuse me, but you are sitting next to my wife.”

They usually move.