They say home is where the heart is. They forgot to mention that home is where the comfy bed, working kitchen appliances and free Wi-Fi are as well. We got back from tour a couple of weeks ago. I’ve been meaning to sit down and write my final reflections on the whole adventure ever since then, but truthfully, I’ve been trying to enjoy my last week and a half at home before I leave yet again, this time until December at the earliest. Hey, this is the first stress-free week I’ve had all summer.

We just had two days off, yet I didn't write a single word about the tour in our downtime. Instead, it's back to the iPhone notes while sitting in the back of the van. Good to know I maintained my stellar work ethic from the school year.

I haven’t produced a single piece of writing in nearly three months. That’s probably a mortal sin in this world, right? Shouldn’t I be stricken from the journalistic community and left to wither in my own irrelevance? Even if I’m allowed to stay, my creative muscles have probably atrophied past the point of no return. I’m lucky I even managed to eek out the last five sentences!

At the age of 19, American rock band Say Anything’s frontman Max Bemis was writing songs about his bipolar disorder and his issues with drugs and unhealthy relationships. Now 30, Bemis has channeled...

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This year’s South By Southwest had its fair share of glaring issues, as does everything that happens — ever. Some of the more pressing matters concerned fan safety, the evermore-exclusionary atmosphere and the oversaturation of big ass businesses. But please, save the commentary on Austin’s increasing corporatization for a more pretentious article. There is a more minute, but infinitely frustrating problem that has been making its presence known at every live music event, be it at Red 7 or Austin Music Hall.