Every single issue of What Youth comes with it’s own insane personality disorder. It walks and talks and fucks with us like the hot babe at the coffee shop who just can’t be bothered. We’re obsessed, but completely frustrated every minute of the day. The smallest details, the biggest details, the weather outside and the air conditioning inside — they all take their toll on the creation of a print magazine. I can fuck up on the website all day long and make changes. And it’s OK. But print though, that thing is gonna live until it turns to dirt, or is recycled and turned into a coffee cup.
This time it was the moon. And personal and global tragedies, natural disasters, bouts with salmonella, last minute trips to the big apple and significant swell events that made this issue the vixen that it is. Oh, and then there’s something they call “continual partial attention” and addictive feedback loops which also had something to do with the anxious creation of it. We made it while managing to check our phone an average of 2,617 times a day. Literally. It all derailed or bettered the upcoming issue one way or another. Hell, the actual conversation of whether or not to make magazine issues can get in the way of an issue. But we figured out why you need them. So they will continue. But it does seem that the more we think we’re in control of making the things inside of them, the more we realize we’re not, and we have to be willing to make the cluster fuck they become somehow coherent, interesting and inspiring. And I think that’s what makes us all wake up every morning.
And now that this one is getting inked, and I’m flying away again for some time away from it — healing from the personal panic attacks each issue brings on, (I’m going to watch football with my mom in a foreign city, more on that later). But before I completely check out for two days, I’m going to tell you something exciting about this one: we’re going to bring it to you personally. And we’re going to make sure you all get a copy. And yeah, I’m looking to all of you who don’t own a copy (and those of you who do). You’re all getting this one. You’ll see.
Another thing we just realized: We need to get back to surfing. A quick perusal of the surf space after a couple absolute marathon sessions this weekend shows inflatable life jackets, wave pools and really piss poor edits circulating. I watched Lost Atlas to get in the mood. And that was made like 8 years ago. Sounds like we need to get back at it. So we will. Scroll below and check the cutting room floor for Issue 19. And prepare to go surf with us. And go Falcons. —Travis