I met Jay "Reatard" Lindsey at some point back in 2001 (or early '02?) when my band at the time, The Little Deaths, played a show with his then band, The Lost Sounds, at The Bottom of the Hill. I was pretty bummed about playing music at the time, as my band was beginning to implode, and The Lost Sounds lit a new fire under me.

My friends in Subtonix had returned from a summer tour bearing new vinyl from Memphis's The Lost Sounds and hailing them as an amazing, sickeningly good live band filled with extremely sweet folks. When we were booked to play with them a few months later, I was excited, as my head was now filled with dozens of hummable and memorable hooks that Jay had written. Lost Sounds were a new hybrid breed of smokin' garage-synth-deathrock. The show ended up being and still remains one of my favorites of all time, Jay and his then-partner Alicja Trout were going off -- unhinged and possessed -- trading licks on guitar and Prophet synth. For a few years, whenever The Lost Sounds would play in San Francisco, they would crash at the home I shared with some of the Subtonix ladies. They became part of our extended family of bands and I religously obtained everything their ridiculously prolific asses put out. Jay and his band were nothing but nice and you could talk to him forever about music. He was a real nerd about it, like me.

I was not at all surprised and generally stoked when Jay finally started getting lots of attention for his solo work. His music increasingly became even more infectious with pop-hooks up the wazoo that endlessly spun in your head even after the record was over. I never stayed in touch with Jay, but did remain a fierce fan.