May, like April, has begun with some fairly unreliable weather. Except this time, things are either blazing hot or sweater worthy. Today, it’s quite hot, and I’m surrounded by the low thrum of a fan as I write another blog post for MannequinsBand.com.

This month I’ve been thinking a lot about lyrics and the way that different artists are able to build lyrical fingerprints throughout their catalog. Destroyer, Car Seat Headrest, and The Mountain Goats, all come to mind when I think of lyricists who are continually commenting and building upon a continuous lyrical universe. Their music can feel like a puzzle, as they call back to old songs and interpolate melodies and lines from other artists. Like many modernist and postmodernist authors, great intertextual lyricists recognize that the relationship between a listener and a song is made more complex and intimate by the development of lyrical threads. 

Now, I don’t claim to be a “great intertextual lyricist” (that sounds terribly pretentious). But I do like to play with a web of themes and ideas that show up throughout The Mannequins’ Discography. Ghosts are a big one. I can’t seem to get rid of them. 

One of the alluring things about ghosts is their iconography. The white, flowy cartoonish halloween ghost is an immediately recognizable image so is a spectral phantom coming back from the undead to finish some business in the land of the living. Ghosts, zombies, and ghouls are a powerful symbol with which each person has their own unique associations. A ghost can be many things.

“Hauntology” is a phrase often used by philosophers to talk about versions of the past that continue to crop up in the present, like ghosts. A lot of our music is concerned with these ghosts: the ways that our perceptions and dreams can change and morph as we make our way from childhood into adulthood and the difficulty of letting go of past versions of yourself. Most of the time, I think I am writing for a younger me, trying to let that past-self free and to enter into a more complete version of the present. When I sing about “teenage ghosts,” I’m thinking about the intensity and unpredictability of my teen years—a younger self that disappeared before I was fully ready to say goodbye. I hope these songs are a fitting farewell. 

We have a couple more shows this month before we’re taking a break in June: May 16th at Kilroy’s Garage and May 30th at The Pyramid Scheme. I’d love to chat ghosts with you at a show. Until then, I hope May is full of peace and joy for you.
-Grant 

May Newsletter:

As you sit in the waiting room, you realize you've never seen a pictoral representation of Mr. Bosworth, the big boss at Drocto sales. You've been a telemarketer there for a year selling products that you don't understand. Most days are spent begging random strangers to buy the Droctothon 77ec10 in Battleship Grey. You don't know what a Droctothon 77ec10 is, or what it does or why anyone would want it, and yet you attempt cold call after cold call trying to sell them for Mr. Bosworth. Suffice it to say, not many products are sold by Drocto Sales, not many products at all. 

When an employee does finally sell their first product, they get to meet the man behind the whole operation, Mr. Bosworth, and now it's your turn. This morning, right after clocking in, you called the next number on your list. This time it was an agèd woman with a bad phone signal. You're not even sure that she understood what you were saying, but you were able to get a stable enough connection to take her credit card info and sell her a Droctoborg 92ee5, and now you're going to meet the big boss. 

His waiting room is cold and metallic and his secretary is blindfolded, sending strange signals into Mr. Bosworth through a series of mechanical pulleys and winches. She does not speak or make any visible shift at your arrival, but you believe she knows you are here. 

A mechanical scraping echoes from the opposite wall and a passageway opens. The silhouette of a man appears from the foggy, fluorescent chamber. Your legs shake as you step into THE office, Mr. Bosworth's office. He looks relaxed, but somehow also rigid. He is not the kind of man you could imagine running an operation like this… There's a strange purple glow emanating from his forehead. He reaches up to shake your hand and his skin feels almost rubbery?! What's this? He's just an animatronic, a cursèd Mannequin! 

April was awesome for The Mannequins! Last month brought lots of amazing shows with fantastic audiences and fellow bands. We're so grateful! We also released three brand-new songs with Moore Media Records that we're super excited about! You can check them out here: 
Spotify
Apple Music 
YouTube
Our May schedule is a bit less busy, but we still have some big shows planned. 
On May 30th, we're playing at The Pyramid Scheme in Grand Rapids! It's gonna be a huge show, so don't miss it! Email us or DM us on Instagram for physical tickets and we'll write you a short original song with your purchase. You can also buy tickets online here!

We'll also be playing a show at DIY Venue Kilroy's Garage on May 16th. Contact us for info and the address!

June is gonna be a bit of an off month for us, so come see us while you can! We'd love to see you at a show! 

With Much Love,
The Mannequins

It’s April. The weather is either beautiful or terrible in Holland, MI this time of year.  Today, it is a little cold and a little grey, but amidst that, the daffodils are blooming in the front yard; new life is on the way.

Because we have two shows at Park Theatre, our hometown haunt, this month, I wanted to take a few minutes to chat about how important that venue has been for us as a band and for me personally.

The beginning of 2023 was a hard period for me. I was experiencing extreme and debilitating brain fog as a symptom of long haul COVID 19. I dropped out of school and moved back to the Chicago suburbs so I could be closer to my support system. It felt like a lot of things were on pause and life was in flux. It was a liminal and confusing time for me and for the band too.

Michael Sherman had just joined on drums a few months earlier and before that, Carter and I had been operating as a duo. We had played only one proper Mannequins show in our basement on Halloween in 2022. Through that show, we made friends with another local band Casper. Early in the spring, they asked us if we wanted to play at Park Theatre that April with a band from Indiana called Flo State. I was in Chicago and Michael and Carter were in Holland, but we said yes and scheduled a whole week of rehearsals.

The show became a beacon of hope for me as I worked to improve my health, so I could play songs on stage with my friends. I practiced relentlessly on my own, tweaking my pedals and amp, running difficult guitar passages, and singing the songs over and over. Amidst a lot of uncertainty, our show at Park Theatre was a rope pulling me through the winter of 2023.

When the show date arrived, I felt that we were in great shape. The songs were tight and our energy was good. We arrived at the venue for an early soundcheck and were immediately welcomed by the consistently kind, accommodating, and professional staff at The Park.

As we took the stage, I remember feeling weightless and alive. That is often the feeling I get while singing songs, but that night, it was stronger than ever before. I remember inhaling and exhaling the feeling that The Mannequins was a stronger force than I had previously imagined. It made me think that we should keep going, that it was imperative that the band kept our energy and passion.

The other bands who played that night, Flo State and Casper, both blew us away, not only with their music but also their kindness. I am happy to say that our friendships have continued to blossom through the last couple of years.

I knew that I believed in the band. but it had been a tough few years. The show at Park Theatre in April of 2023 reawakened the Mannequins as a creative project and reinvigorated us as artists in a way that is hard for me to fully articulate. Now, almost exactly two years later and after countless other shows at the Park, that magic hasn’t dissipated.

Many of my most favorite moments as an artist have taken place on that stage and so many amazing faces have looked up at me from the floor singing words back to me that I never imagined would reach other hearts. Park Theatre and all it represents makes me feel grateful: grateful for my body and hands, for language and art and the awkward and beautiful ways we connect with each other, for Carter and Michael and all the other former and sporadic members of the band: Davis Miller, Kevin McKenzie, and Luke Penning. It makes me grateful for togetherness and community and hope and light in a world that often feels bereft of all of those things.

I can’t wait to feel that all again in just a few weeks. Thanks for everything, Park Theatre, and thanks to everyone who has been one of the humans swaying and singing along. I will never have the words to describe it all.

This year, it’s been a good April for me and the band, and I think it will only get better. I hope that April is good to you too.

-Grant

Here are some videos from that first Park Theatre Performances in 2023:

The lights are low and you're walking home from a friend's house. 

The old neighborhood scares you on these quiet April nights. Pockets of light and shadow dance near the corners of your eyes; you always feel followed. An owl's ghastly call comes on the wind from the north while you cross towards main street. Other than that horrible sound, the town lies impossibly silent. 

You begin to pick up your pace, hoping to make it home before the sun sets entirely. Flanked by “closed” signs and the impenetrable blinds of the local businesses, your feet hit the pavement. You start hearing a twin pair of footsteps behind you, following you into the night. You turn around and there is no one in the looming darkness. Breathing deeply, you hope it was just your own steps echo. The approaching footfall becomes louder and louder, slowly losing its sync with your own pace, but there is still no interpretable shapes in the wild nothingness over your shoulder. 

Stepping into a side street to catch your breath and slow your beating heart, a human shadow falls before you. You turn and see the outline of a tall, still man silhouetted in a nearby doorway. He is so still… oh, just a Mannequin. You laugh to yourself and move closer to the figure draped in thrift-store clothing. Nothing to be afraid of. 

But as you turn away to continue home, you're certain that the Mannequin moves.

We in the Mannequins are making big moves. We had a bit of a chill period in early March, but we've been back at it for the last few weeks, and we're gearing up for an eventful April. 

APRIL SHOWS
New Dodge Lounge, Hamtramck, MI - April 4
Summit Sessions Live, Live Stream from CMU - April 5
Park Theatre Open Mic, Holland, MI - April 8th
Park Theatre, Holland, MI - April 24th
Moore Media Records Showcase,  CMU,  Mt. Pleasant, MI - April 26

We're especially excited for the Summit Sessions live show as an opportunity for any distant Mannequins fans to catch a show virtually! 

Looking ahead to May, we're playing at the Pyramid Scheme on May 30th, it's gonna be our last show before a little summer break. We'd love to pack the place, so get your tickets now!

Also, make sure to check out the new Merch on our website!

We hope your April is as minimally scary as possible!
- The Mannequins

Hey there loyal Mannequins devotees and new friends,

This is our new website. We finally decided to crawl out of our cave and embrace modernity. For a long time, we've been able to spread news using social media and word of mouth, but lately, we've craved a place to share all the details about everything all at once as well as a system to ship merch to anyone who can't make it out to a show: enter mannequinsband.com. We hope you enjoy it. 

We'll have more to say in this blog space soon… 

Thanks for being here!
-The Mannequins