In 2000 I wrote and released a song in my band Doleful Lions called My Summer With Ghosts, about the phantom balm of 1995. Even less than 5 years after that spirit-summer it seemed like it never even existed, that my dusky memory had fooled me into thinking it had taken place at all. In my formative years I had a tendency to change my surroundings on a dime and force myself into new experiences. After the demise of Jason and my first band Happy Type in 1991 I picked up everything and moved to the middle of nowhere Louisiana to work on my grandfathers farm. I still remember driving a red Case tractor, spraying Roundup in a hedge row in the middle of July, listening to Seasons In The Abyss on my Sony Walkman, hungover as hell, pissed that I had left everything to do this! There was no internet of any consequence in 2000, no music files of Cinco de Gatos to remind me of what I had abandoned for a 4-track inspired by Guided by Voices and Big Star. I played Jason my first demo I recorded under the name Doleful Lions in early 1996 and he hated it. We both knew it was over at that point, we couldn’t find a drummer anyway…

The summer of 1995 is a beautiful haunted house to me, a colosseum, a palace of gold in foreign lands, where the cyclops sleeps out on the desert sands. Of punk shows in VFW halls, of wearing sweaters in the summer with bowling shoes, of Krautrock sections in extinct Wicker Park record stores, of the bombed out ceiling of the Fireside Bowl, of Jason’s new Don Quixote neck tattoo, of Las Mordidas, Cap’n Jazz and Trenchmouth at Czar Bar, of Wesley Willis headbutts, of listening to Red Medicine in Jason’s car, of the carnival rule, of matching Hull Trading jackets, of practicing in Tortoise’s loft, of the smell of hair pomade, of talking to Elastica’s manager in a fake British accent, of Kevin Smith showing me how to play power chords, of hanging out at Abril after rehearsal.

Sometimes the feelings are too overwhelming and sometimes it’s the most beautiful thing in the world.

Dedicated to Jason Dummeldinger, Dan Sullivan, Kim Ambriz, Andy Kuharich, Scott Ames, Brian Peterson, Ryan Rapsys and don’t blame Ryan for quitting Cinco after our first show at Skippers house when we played with Sky Corvair and embarrassed ourselves.

I love everything about this compilation you are listening to. It’s the sound of being 20 years old in my summer with ghosts. This music is made for kids by kids and captures a moment before we grew up and had to be adults. They called it emo back then, I am not sure what they call it today? I don’t mind the term emo at all. I called Embrace, Gray Matter, Samiam and Shudder To Think emo back in the day and I didn’t mean it as a pejorative.

This is Bob Dylan to me.

I hope you like this comp and even if you weren’t there it resonates with you.

If you were there, this is a time machine.

This compilation is for Scott Ames who was the personification of the spirit of the summer of 1995. Rest In Peace, brother.

Jonathan Scott
5.4.23

A long time ago, it seemed like a long time ago that I had seen my friend Jon Scott. Time is really a strange thing. Jon and I see each other all the time now, and one of our collaborations is a show about dreams, other dimensions, twins, and of course... time.

I don't know how often people find their perfect co-creator. Maybe it's all the time. I guess I don't really care about the rest of those lucky saps. I found mine, and 35 years later one of us is still picking up what the other is putting down, and vice versa.

This compilation that Jon and I recorded with a bunch of folks in the first few iterations of Cinco de Gatos is beautiful and important to me. We made some weird, wild, and oftentimes surprisingly gorgeous sounds with this band. I'm proud that Jon and I managed to cobble it back together a few years ago. And even that was a few years after the last time we cobbled it together.

As Jon mentioned in his post about this compilation, the whole thing is dedicated to Scott Ames. It's weird how long we've been without his brilliant soul walking this planet with us. But we have the memory of the art we made with him.

For the record, I didn't hate the Doleful Lions demo. I hated that it marked the end of my partnership with Jon in Cinco de Gatos. Of course, that didn't stick and now both musical projects exist in defiance of mid 20's egos. I told you time is really strange.

Thanks to everyone who has ever listened to, shared a stage with, or played alongside Jon and me. Hopefully you fell in love with us the same we fell in love with you.

Jason Dummeldinger
5.4.23

Among the releases found in Chicago's early 1990s alternative rock scene, Epiphany Wants to Come Home sticks out like a sore thumb. While other albums such as Cap'n Jazz's “Schmap'n Schmazz” and Braid's “Frame & Canvas” are concentrated works, Epiphany is a distinct, dichotomous affair, alternating between off-kilter, dissonant, almost metallic songs and almost radio-friendly, pop-infused anthems, displaying the evolution between their bass-dominated, Dummeldinger-directed roots to the ringing, harmonious, pop and folk-influenced material that Jonathan found himself writing towards Cinco de Gatos's first demise. Beginning with “What's Wrong With Butterfly Sugar,” the listener is bombarded with a rhythmic, atonal, hardcore punk onslaught that evolves into a catchy, melodic late-80s punk-styled chorus. “Crooked Letter, Crooked Letter I” is by far one of the most experimental songs on the album, with verses based around a single, ominous bass line, coated with a single guitar note, plucked rhythmically. Jonathan, instead of singing, finds himself speaking in increasing levels of intensity, eventually screaming before leading into the dissonant, instrumental chorus. “Chicago Mercantile Exchange” is a Dwarves-esque punk standard; it's fast, aggressive and catchy without being too “poppy.” Jonathan performs more of his intense spoken word on this track, perhaps for the best due to its a-melodic nature. Songs like “Ireland” and “Bare Knuckles” display Jonathan's acquired skill for writing an infectious pop tune with vocal lines whose guitar interplay call for the listener's immediate and undivided attention. Along with Jonathan's takeover in songwriting comes Jason Dummeldinger's change in style from rhythmic and atonal something more Paul McCartney-esque, with a heightened sense of melody and inclusion of memorable pop “hooks.” This album is the nostalgic sound of high school dances, driving around with your friends without anything to do and without any care to find it.

Perhaps the most memorable song on the entire album is the four-and-a-half minute long album closer “O.K. Annie Oakley.” Characterized by a faded, nostalgic sound, complex harmonic interplay between Jonathan, Andy Kuharich, and Jason, as well as Jonathan's voice, this time pushed further back into the mix. Highly stylistically different than the rest of the album, “O.K. Annie Oakley” sets the stage for the next wave of “midwest emo” bands whose music was entirely dependent on the nostalgic tune here. Though this song remains unreleased, it shows Cinco de Gatos's complete understanding of their style, foreshadowing stylistic changes that would become popular half a decade later.

Jon Rosenthal
The Inarguable