On a winding road surrounded by cow pastures Prosody’s guitar player, Thad Kallinan, lives his life of roaming whims. It is in his garage that Prosody practices every Tuesday night. The rustic beginnings come into play again as the garage is unheated and infested with ladybugs. Thad Kallinan is the type of guy who if he wasn’t watching where he was walking would knock you flat on your back and not flinch or even notice. If he did notice, however, he would most certainly feel a genuine remorse; unless of course he didn’t like you, in this case he would emit a sound that is somewhere between a laugh and a grunt and smile inwardly in a sharp wicked manner. This ogreish sensibility coincides beautifully with his size and almost bestial demeanor. His guitar playing matches his staunch reliability, it is dynamic in that he can create jarring, un-grandmother friendly riffs and yet still make melodies that chill the heart. Distinction is the key to his playing, and the spacious ability to fit music together without losing his edge of heaviness. The density of his guitar playing is accentuated by Prosody’s singer, Scott Young.

For someone who values his privacy and worries of bleeding out his emotions to people who don’t care, you would think that Scott would choose a different pastime than being the singer in a band. In an early Prosody song named Porn Flake he promulgates, “My life is not your popularity party, my emotions are not your amusement.” If you were to watch him on stage, however, you would think that he couldn’t possibly have anything he would be able to hide. This kind of intensity is something that you are born into and it can’t be cultivated, no matter how hard some people try to fake it. When Scott sings it isn’t a front, it isn’t fatuous, it’s what he feels poured into a microphone. Emotions are forced from every pore in a genuine torrent, integrity intermixing with aggression. It’s hard to know what to expect from Scott, it’s impossible to predict how he will act in any given situation because his moods change with a deep internal tide that he has no control over. When the shadows begin to spill over is when you’ll find him hiding from the headlights and all you can do is try and understand. In highschool Scott would see an upperclassman who’s name was Dale Lawson eating lunch in the school cafeteria and be reminded of Kurt Cobain, he always wanted to talk to the chap but never really got the chance. In a later twist of fate he became bandmates with him.

Dale Lawson is cigarette smoke exhaled from thoughtful lips in moonlight and the corner of the shower that some irrational childhood fear stops you from turning to. He’s often the center of pensive observation but seldom the center of attention. When Dale’s serial killer voice arises in a conversation his ideas enter strategies of compressed encyclopedias and his words combine in an intelectual dementia that makes you want to hear more. Dale seems to carry his emotions high above him and they will seldom immerse him enough in public to be disclosed by his actions. He usually appears to be stranded in an ocean of undisturbed calm that protects him from other people. Dale is a very well respected musician and although he plays bass for Prosody he has played lead guitar and sang in his last two bands. It is actually from one of his previous bands that Prosody aquired him. When Prosody asked local drumming Deity, TJ Cannon, if he wanted to play drums with them he agreed and also mentioned that his old bandmate, Dale, might be interested in playing bass.

TJ is an honest, hardhitting drummer and often relates that playing in a band helps him to get out his hostility in a productive way. He looks to the drummer of Tool, Danny Carey, for inspiration. TJ, who’s real name is Todd, has been playing drums since he was in seventh grade and is well known for being honest and direct. He has an interest in cars and owns numerous vehicles. TJ is interested in an array of different music and doesn’t feel that there should be any fences around his attentions; if music is good, it’s good, and thats all there is to it.
written by Melissa Peterson

In the spring of 99, 3 boys from the back woods of shelton formed a band called COME, with Scott Young on the mic, Thad Kallinen on Guitar, and some *uncle fucker on the drums. We had no bassist. After a while, the three boys got a show but had no bassist so they barrowed the guitarist from soylint green to play bass. That show sucked. (no offence to leon.) But it sucked ass. We decided to have uncle fucker play bass and asked A local drum god named TJ " Limp sticks" Cannon to play drums for us. He said ....Um..........ok.............then we changed our name to Room 212 and played some shows. Then wrote some songs, and made a demo. Then things didnt work out with uncle fucker. We kicked him out and picked up a local bass god by the name of Dale "bass humper" Lawson. then we changed our name to Prosody, wrote some more songs and made a demo. Shit!!!

*we call him an uncle fucker cause he is an uncle fucker ok? oh and if you know this uncle fucker and your a uncle you better not bend over cause hes an uncle fucker.