Front Porch Step is the solo acoustic project of Newark, Ohio musician Jake McElfresh. Front Porch Step began in 2012. In 2013, Front Porch Step signed to Pure Noise Records and released his debut album Aware. In 2013, he supported Never Shout Never on four of their tour dates.[2] In the summer of 2014, Front Porch Step played on the Vans Warped Tour. In the fall of 2014, Front Porch Step played on the Pure Noise Records Tour with State Champs, Handguns, Forever Came Calling, Brigades and Heart to Heart.[3] In February and March 2015, Front Porch Step planned to go on his first headlining tour, with support from Have Mercy, Alcoa, Hotel Books, and Head North. Due to sexual harassment allegations, Mcelfresh has suspended his tour until further notice.[4] Front Porch Step was going to partake in the 2015 Vans Warped Tour, which is held annually throughout the summer, but was removed from the tour due to the allegations brought up against him. On June 2, 2016, after a year long hiatus due to sexual harassment allegations, Mcelfresh returned with the release of a song called 'Help Me Hurt' to Spotify.
Jake Mcelfresh has been accused by several young people of sexual harassment through mobile phones, including sending nude pictures of himself to underaged girls.[7] This led to a petition demanding he be removed from the 2015 Warped Tour. His record label, Pure Noise Records, and Kevin Lyman, creator of the Warped Tour, have announced they are aware of the allegations. On 4 January 2015 Mcelfresh announced via his Facebook page that he had suspended all current tour dates, including Warped Tour, due to the allegations.[9] On 3 April 2015, Mcelfresh issued a public statement via Facebook. In it, he explained that when growing up, he had self-esteem issues and "certainly was not a ladies man," and when he finally got his breakthrough with music, he was surprised at how much attention from female fans he received. He admitted that he had corresponded through text messages with women, some of whom were underaged, but claimed that the conversations were "not as one sided as they seem," pointing out that no charges had been brought against him.
He also stated that even though some of the conversations were sexual in nature, "(he) only had conversations with willing participants". Mcelfresh then admitted that [he] "wondered if (he) wanted to be alive anymore" in the few months after the allegations were brought up, and took a break from social media after being dropped by his label and removed from all tours, considering it the "greatest thing (he) could have ever done". He also stated that he intends to return to music in the summer. On 1 July 2015, Mcelfresh performed his first show since the allegations were brought, at the Acoustic Basement at the Nashville, Tennessee stop of Warped Tour.[11] Warped Tour founder Kevin Lyman stated that he had spoken with Mcelfresh's personal counselor, who said that the performance would be a part of his therapy, he would not be paid for the show, and he would not appear at any other stops of the tour. Lyman stated that he allowed Mcelfresh to perform the show because he has not been charged with a misdemeanor, stating that "If he was a legitimate danger to anyone, he simply wouldn't be here.
[12]" Many bands tweeted their opinions of the situation, practically all in distaste.[13] Mcelfresh also dealt with a concertgoer in the crowd who publicly criticized him, saying "The difference between you and me is that I know who I am, and I am very proud of that. So you can go ahead, watch my set. Thank you very much. Thanks for the ticket money, dude. The controversy was the subject of a song by Stray from the Path entitled "D.I.E.P.I.G.", which attacks musicians who use their fame to abuse young girls. On June 2nd, 2016 McElfresh released his first single in over a year, "Help Me Hurt", a Christian song vaguely addressing the allegations and asking God for forgiveness. ^ Stray From The Path attack sexual predators on “D.I.E.P.I.G” (exclusive) AltPress. Retrieved 5 August 2015.The Living Dead The New Yorker, February 16, 2004 P. 74 RECOLLECTIONS about the writer drowning a mouse at his Normandy home. The writer was on the front porch, drowning a mouse in a bucket, when, strangely, a van pulled up.
No cars ever stops in front of his house. Plus, it was three o’clock in the morning. In addition, there are no street lamps in the village and people usually turn in early. The big story last summer was about the burglar who allegedly got stuck in someone’s chimney and starved there. The story always took place in a summer house owned by English people, who left in early September and returned nine months later to find a shoe in their fireplace. They stuck a broom up the chimney and dislodged the skeletal burglar, who was always a gypsy or a drifter or an Arab. The writer didn’t believe the story, but he does believe in spooks, especially when his boyfriend, Hugh, is away. During the war, their house was occupied by Nazis. The former owners died in the bedroom. But what really frightens him is the possibility of zombies–former townspeople wandering about. He draws up contingency plans on the off-chance they might come by. He used to lie awake for hours. On this particular night, he was in the combination kitchen-living room, trying to piece together a complex model of the Visible Man they’d bought as a birthday gift for the teen-age son of a friend.
There’s a walnut tree in the side yard, and each year, after Hugh collects the fruit and lays it on the attic floor to dry, the mice come in. They try to roll the nuts across the floor toward their nests. Hugh sets traps in the attic. This night, the writer discovered a mouse in one of the traps. He tried to free him, but instead ended up snapping the bar back on the mouse’s neck. When the mouse was finally freed most of his bones were broken. So the writer decided to drown him. The problem with drowning an animal is that it does not want to cooperate. Then the van–or minibus–drove up. It contained 5 elderly people and a driver. The driver asked for directions to a house they were renting with friends. The writer looked at the driver’s map and then offered to show him a map he had inside his house. He had always thought of their main room as cheerful, but walking through the door with the driver, he realized there was something slightly suspicious about it. The Visible Man on the table lay in the shadow of a large taxidermied chicken.
The table chairs were mismatched and in disrepair. On the back of one hung a towel with the emblem of the L.A. County Coroner’s office. On an adjacent daybed lay a true-crime magazine with the headline “IS THERE A SERIAL KILLER IN YOUR REGION?” There seemed to be a theme developing–the almanac of guns and firearms on the bookshelf, the meat cleaver lying on a photograph of our neighbor’s grandchild. The bus driver was examining the meat hooks hanging from the stone hearth. “We saw your lights, the open door…,” he said, his words familiar from innumerable horror movies. The writer pulled a map from a drawer containing a short length of rope and a novelty pen resembling a dismembered finger. Where does all this stuff come from? The house they were looking for wasn’t more than 10 miles away. The writer offered him the map and watched him carry it down the stairs and into the van. The mouse was floating, lifeless now, on the surface of the water in the bucket. The area beyond the porch seemed menacing, and suddenly the inside of the house seemed just as bad.