Finished two songs from the "indie rock opera." It occurs to me that this thing isn’t much like a rock opera at all, in that different characters don’t sing to each other. Like The Who’s Tommy--"Do you think it’s all right to leave the boy with Uncle Ernie." Mainly it’s from the "I" point of view, which isn’t so different from any of my songs. Also, some of the lyrics can be obscure, so I’m thinking about including prose alongside the songs so it makes some narrative sense. Sort of like "in which our hero…" headings at the beginning of some novels.
The first third of the I.R.O., which I’m calling "A.D.," is autobiographical: guy is lonely and depressed, guy meets girl, they have a family, all is well, they move to L.A. to hide out with family because war is coming. War is declared. That’s where it stops being autobiographical (hopefully). Then UFOs land…
If you’ve been reading this blog for a while then you know some of the story. We moved to North Carolina and had Olivia. "Now is the Time" goes, "Made our way to Carolina, found a home and with it found a way to make our lives a better place." That song was written when S. was pregnant--I was both hopeful and terrified about having a kid.
Also recorded "In the Beginning…" It needs something else, but I’d rather move on than keep tinkering with it. The song shows up again at the end with more hopeful lyrics.
There’s a song before these two but it still needs some lyrics. Might be a lot to ask for people to listen to all these songs I’ve been recording this week, but if nothing else, I’m doing this for myself. It’s been good to get these songs recorded and behind me.
In the Beginning...
January 12, 2006
January 11, 2006
I Walk The Line
You want more melancholy (no) then you’re in luck! For whatever reason, I’ve been much more inspired to work on songs than fiction right now. I haven’t written a lot of songs that touch on being a writer. This one does somewhat. Note as/if you listen that I’ve written a novel called "God’s Wife."
The period of writing "God’s Wife" and its aftermath was pretty depressing--around age 24-28, the heart of my twenties. The reason I want to get down these morose, morose songs was because at least something came out of it: I wrote some songs. I was alone, I was depressed, I justified it by writing things.
After that stretch was over, I met my wife. She was stripping at the time and we bonded on the fact that I wrote a book about a sex worker who actually ends up working at a place where she stripped, New York Dolls. I’d never been to other strip clubs in New York until I met her--VIP, Flashdancers, Scores. The first time I went to see her--during Halloween week when she was dressed as a cowgirl--I got raging, embarrassingly drunk. It was weird seeing her dance for other men, or at least I was thinking it would be, so I drank, and drank.
It’s sounds corny, but she was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen in my life when I met her. She was dressed in a brown skirt with red trim and high heels. She looked like a forties’ vixen. When she crossed her legs, the trim of her skirt made the shape of a heart. Also corny. She was belligerent, brash--I liked her right off. I had actually been fooling around with a friend of hers at the time. When I heard about S., the redhead, I knew she was going to be something. I met her in a tiny apartment on Orchard St.
So…this song was written before I met her, before my life got some focus. Having the family away has been good for realizing where I am in my life and where I’ve been.
Believe it or not, I wasn't familiar with the Johnny Cash song "Walk the Line" when I wrote this song. It also rips off "Let it Be," though I didn’t realize at the time that I was taking from it. That’s two songs in a row that steal from the Beatles.
"I walk the line between love and life." Get up and dance!
I Walk the Line
The period of writing "God’s Wife" and its aftermath was pretty depressing--around age 24-28, the heart of my twenties. The reason I want to get down these morose, morose songs was because at least something came out of it: I wrote some songs. I was alone, I was depressed, I justified it by writing things.
After that stretch was over, I met my wife. She was stripping at the time and we bonded on the fact that I wrote a book about a sex worker who actually ends up working at a place where she stripped, New York Dolls. I’d never been to other strip clubs in New York until I met her--VIP, Flashdancers, Scores. The first time I went to see her--during Halloween week when she was dressed as a cowgirl--I got raging, embarrassingly drunk. It was weird seeing her dance for other men, or at least I was thinking it would be, so I drank, and drank.
It’s sounds corny, but she was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen in my life when I met her. She was dressed in a brown skirt with red trim and high heels. She looked like a forties’ vixen. When she crossed her legs, the trim of her skirt made the shape of a heart. Also corny. She was belligerent, brash--I liked her right off. I had actually been fooling around with a friend of hers at the time. When I heard about S., the redhead, I knew she was going to be something. I met her in a tiny apartment on Orchard St.
So…this song was written before I met her, before my life got some focus. Having the family away has been good for realizing where I am in my life and where I’ve been.
Believe it or not, I wasn't familiar with the Johnny Cash song "Walk the Line" when I wrote this song. It also rips off "Let it Be," though I didn’t realize at the time that I was taking from it. That’s two songs in a row that steal from the Beatles.
"I walk the line between love and life." Get up and dance!
I Walk the Line
January 10, 2006
Buy the Time
First thing finished with the family away (they arrived safely in Ohio). I’ve been in more of a mood to record than work on fiction, though I’d like to do both. It’s usually easier to record late at night after Olivia goes to sleep than it is to work on a story.
It’s been a fairly psychedelic experience being alone for the first time in 3 and a half years. Sleeping late, eating frozen food, clearing my head. I am "conveniently" out of work during this time. I applied to a slew of jobs this morning. With this done, I’d like to start a story. I’ve got an idea.
The song’s about a year old, I think. Rips off "I’m Only Sleeping." Another mish-mash of guitar parts. Melancholy as all hell but, again, I’ve felt it and I want to get all these songs down. These lyrics, the only lyrics, say a lot about where I’ve been and wanna go:
And by the time I come to change
will I forget all that I want to erase
And all the time I’ve come to waste
will I regain all I hadn’t thought to save
Here it is:
Buy the Time
It’s been a fairly psychedelic experience being alone for the first time in 3 and a half years. Sleeping late, eating frozen food, clearing my head. I am "conveniently" out of work during this time. I applied to a slew of jobs this morning. With this done, I’d like to start a story. I’ve got an idea.
The song’s about a year old, I think. Rips off "I’m Only Sleeping." Another mish-mash of guitar parts. Melancholy as all hell but, again, I’ve felt it and I want to get all these songs down. These lyrics, the only lyrics, say a lot about where I’ve been and wanna go:
And by the time I come to change
will I forget all that I want to erase
And all the time I’ve come to waste
will I regain all I hadn’t thought to save
Here it is:
Buy the Time
January 9, 2006
Back
Well, that was interesting. I stopped posting to the blog to see what would happen. Turns out I’m dependent on it. Which is good and bad. Good that something is important and meaningful to me, bad to be dependent on something. The jury’s still out of this blog cuts into the time and mind to write fiction. I spend enough time pointlessly watching TV or surfing the web that I have time to do both, and not blogging showed me that I was really missing something.
So this morning I went to LAX and dropped off my wife and daughter for a trip to Ohio. My wife’s grandmother just died. I think it will be good for her to see her family, despite what she wrote on her blog. It will certainly be good for Olivia, who hasn’t seen that side of the family since she was one. This is a major undertaking for S.--flying with Olivia for the first time to frozen Ohio for her grandmother’s funeral. Wish her luck. This will be the longest I’ve been away from them since Olivia was born. I’m going to miss them deeply, but I also really need this time to myself. This will be a major vacation that I need to put to good use. I sort of feel like I’m in high school when my parents would leave for the weekend and give me the run of the house.
Other things. There was a cool write-up of my brother’s old band, Love Child, at WFMU’s Beware of the Blog.
Found Myspace pages of my cousins with half-naked pictures. It was disturbing.
Just got some kick-ass computer speakers via a Target gift card. Been perusing the Hype Machine. I recommend it. It has a great flash player which makes music listening easy. Discovered this mash up of Bob Dylan and the Pixies. For all I know, this mash up is very popular. I’m not too familiar with mash ups.
I think using the computer too much makes you stupid. Like the other day I couldn’t remember the word "amphibian" or what the white part of the egg is called (note: it’s called an egg white).
I need to change some things about this blog. Like write more short fictional pieces. And not care if no one makes comments.
One of the things I have to cut down on is commenting on other people’s blogs. I have a bad habit of continually coming back to blogs where I’ve made a comment to see if there’s been a response. Because I have no willpower. I’ll be reading Vertical Insanity, Okay Kabuki, Philofaxy, K Fresh, Indiscretions, and others, but I won’t be making too many comments. I’ve even written out entire comments and then haven’t published them because I knew I’d keep checking back.
I think I’m caught up.
So this morning I went to LAX and dropped off my wife and daughter for a trip to Ohio. My wife’s grandmother just died. I think it will be good for her to see her family, despite what she wrote on her blog. It will certainly be good for Olivia, who hasn’t seen that side of the family since she was one. This is a major undertaking for S.--flying with Olivia for the first time to frozen Ohio for her grandmother’s funeral. Wish her luck. This will be the longest I’ve been away from them since Olivia was born. I’m going to miss them deeply, but I also really need this time to myself. This will be a major vacation that I need to put to good use. I sort of feel like I’m in high school when my parents would leave for the weekend and give me the run of the house.
Other things. There was a cool write-up of my brother’s old band, Love Child, at WFMU’s Beware of the Blog.
Found Myspace pages of my cousins with half-naked pictures. It was disturbing.
Just got some kick-ass computer speakers via a Target gift card. Been perusing the Hype Machine. I recommend it. It has a great flash player which makes music listening easy. Discovered this mash up of Bob Dylan and the Pixies. For all I know, this mash up is very popular. I’m not too familiar with mash ups.
I think using the computer too much makes you stupid. Like the other day I couldn’t remember the word "amphibian" or what the white part of the egg is called (note: it’s called an egg white).
I need to change some things about this blog. Like write more short fictional pieces. And not care if no one makes comments.
One of the things I have to cut down on is commenting on other people’s blogs. I have a bad habit of continually coming back to blogs where I’ve made a comment to see if there’s been a response. Because I have no willpower. I’ll be reading Vertical Insanity, Okay Kabuki, Philofaxy, K Fresh, Indiscretions, and others, but I won’t be making too many comments. I’ve even written out entire comments and then haven’t published them because I knew I’d keep checking back.
I think I’m caught up.
January 3, 2006
2006 Bloggies
I’m down and out for a couple of weeks, but I still want a prize. Vote for me or yourself or neither at the 2006 Bloggies. Probably Best Underrepresented. I voted for you.
December 29, 2005
Resolutions
I think I’m going to take a break from this blog for a little while. I’ve said this before so this might mean nothing. Probably a couple of weeks.
Resolutions for 2006:
Try and keep off this computer.
Get healthy.
Good things should come from that.
Here’s something to read in the meantime:
2012.tribe.net
Punk Turns 30
Meet the Family (via Post Atomic)
Resolutions for 2006:
Try and keep off this computer.
Get healthy.
Good things should come from that.
Here’s something to read in the meantime:
2012.tribe.net
Punk Turns 30
Meet the Family (via Post Atomic)
December 23, 2005
December 22, 2005
List
On the lighter side. I made a list. This is what blogs are good for. Or bad for. Top five favorites, subject to change when I remember more. What I grew up on and what I like.
Guitar
Frank Zappa
David Gilmour
Jimi Hendrix
Jimmy Page
Robert Fripp
(wait, that’s all people who play long guitar solos)
Bass
Graham Maby (Joe Jackson’s band)
Rob Wright (No Means No)
Lou Barlow
Mike Watt
Paul McCartney
Drums
John Bonham
Bill Stevenson
John Wright (No Means No)
Mitch Mitchell
Ringo Starr
Also people who I watched play in high school: James Fenton of the Treacherous Jaywalkers, Steve Tounsend of Mustard, Joey Waronker of a lot of things. Steven Brent’s my songwriting guru.
I’ve been in a fair number bands in my life: Semi-Gloss, Odes, Deformo, a version of the King of France, Cosmo Air, Walt Mink for one practice session, the Delores Haze (aka Eva Haze), Caustic, JZ Barrell, Montag, S.G.D.--i.e. bands most people probably haven’t heard of. Played in a noise band that never left the practice space. What was the name of that practice space on Avenue A.? Damn, I need to remember things like that. $10 an hour. I spent a lot of hours there.
Also played in a band in Paris called Spill with a Norwegian fashion designer, my roommate the web designer, and a comparative literature student. Sounds ridiculous and we were kind of a mess. We had one show at an underground-sort of dance club. I spent many nights in places filled with terrible music. The French are very bad at rock n roll. I spent many other nights in NYC with the comparative literature student, drunk and girl-crazy. Undersexed, drinking whiskey. Which reminds me, I have been very damn depressed in my life, lonely and self-loathing. I haven’t felt that way in a while, when it was once a way of life. Since I’ve been married, I’ve forgotten what it’s like. Like when S. was pregnant, it was all we could think about. After Olivia was born, the pregnancy could have been a decade before. Memory lane, down.
Guitar
Frank Zappa
David Gilmour
Jimi Hendrix
Jimmy Page
Robert Fripp
(wait, that’s all people who play long guitar solos)
Bass
Graham Maby (Joe Jackson’s band)
Rob Wright (No Means No)
Lou Barlow
Mike Watt
Paul McCartney
Drums
John Bonham
Bill Stevenson
John Wright (No Means No)
Mitch Mitchell
Ringo Starr
Also people who I watched play in high school: James Fenton of the Treacherous Jaywalkers, Steve Tounsend of Mustard, Joey Waronker of a lot of things. Steven Brent’s my songwriting guru.
I’ve been in a fair number bands in my life: Semi-Gloss, Odes, Deformo, a version of the King of France, Cosmo Air, Walt Mink for one practice session, the Delores Haze (aka Eva Haze), Caustic, JZ Barrell, Montag, S.G.D.--i.e. bands most people probably haven’t heard of. Played in a noise band that never left the practice space. What was the name of that practice space on Avenue A.? Damn, I need to remember things like that. $10 an hour. I spent a lot of hours there.
Also played in a band in Paris called Spill with a Norwegian fashion designer, my roommate the web designer, and a comparative literature student. Sounds ridiculous and we were kind of a mess. We had one show at an underground-sort of dance club. I spent many nights in places filled with terrible music. The French are very bad at rock n roll. I spent many other nights in NYC with the comparative literature student, drunk and girl-crazy. Undersexed, drinking whiskey. Which reminds me, I have been very damn depressed in my life, lonely and self-loathing. I haven’t felt that way in a while, when it was once a way of life. Since I’ve been married, I’ve forgotten what it’s like. Like when S. was pregnant, it was all we could think about. After Olivia was born, the pregnancy could have been a decade before. Memory lane, down.
December 21, 2005
American Pastoral
I just finished a book and needed something new to read. I picked up both Everything is Illuminated and Fortress of Solitude and couldn’t get it very far. I was going to write a post with this sentence: I hate books. I was feeling low. 90% of books are off limits to me. People say that if a book doesn’t grab them in the first 50 pages, they set it down. Me, if the book doesn’t grab me in the first three pages, I give up. If a book takes too long to get the point of where it’s going to take me, I get impatient. Same goes with people really. You want a person to be upfront about who they are, to be honest. Too many books seem to write around their subject, they don’t get to the point. Show don’t tell gone overboard.
Not that the two above books suffer from this entirely, but they didn’t speak to me. Then I picked up American Pastoral by Philip Roth. I started it in the past, liked it, then stopped reading because…I don’t remember why. Likely, I wasn’t ready for it yet. The same might go for the Lethem or Foer down the line. Yesterday, those books felt flashy and overly precocious. Philip Roth gets to the point immediately, even in the first sentence: "The Swede." It’s hyper-intelligent, but that’s because he is, not because he’s trying to be. I’ve found my new book to read.
In other news, the Bush spy probe is driving me fucking nuts. The replacements at Andrew Sullivan are really irritating. In regards to the Bush illegal spying issue, he begins, "While more legally-minded types bicker over the legitimacy of the Bush wiretapping…" The use of the word "bicker" annoys me--as if this issue is nothing more than something for the TV pundits to talk about until the next news day. Pundits are like local newscasters--talking about horrible human events as if they’re discussing puppets. Bush broke the fucking law. The surveillance goes beyond Muslim extremists. And there’s no immediate outrage from Republicans. It doesn’t make sense.
It’s a mystery--why bother with illegal wiretaps when congress would have likely given them the wiretaps legally. Intelligence gathering was actually fine pre 9-11, it’s just that the intelligence was ignored. And wire-tapping wasn’t the problem. It’s another mystery why the NY Times covered up this story before the election. Why the hell would the Times not want John Kerry to get elected?
This whole thing is making me feel down about the great stupidity of the American people. There should be immediate outrage about this, but there won’t be. It seems Bush can do anything he wants and it’s forgotten until the next round of Sunday news shows. Even breaking the law. The "Impeachment" word is finally being mentioned now. If the pundits start talking about impeachment being necessary and inevitable, there will be a change in public opinion--which is not exactly to the public’s credit, but it’s something. Not like that’s going to happen. The Democrats don’t have enough votes--even against something criminal. It’s a new cold war where Republicans or Democrats can never admit fault or defeat, and that’s dangerous. Hell of a fucking first year for the fucking President.
Not that the two above books suffer from this entirely, but they didn’t speak to me. Then I picked up American Pastoral by Philip Roth. I started it in the past, liked it, then stopped reading because…I don’t remember why. Likely, I wasn’t ready for it yet. The same might go for the Lethem or Foer down the line. Yesterday, those books felt flashy and overly precocious. Philip Roth gets to the point immediately, even in the first sentence: "The Swede." It’s hyper-intelligent, but that’s because he is, not because he’s trying to be. I’ve found my new book to read.
In other news, the Bush spy probe is driving me fucking nuts. The replacements at Andrew Sullivan are really irritating. In regards to the Bush illegal spying issue, he begins, "While more legally-minded types bicker over the legitimacy of the Bush wiretapping…" The use of the word "bicker" annoys me--as if this issue is nothing more than something for the TV pundits to talk about until the next news day. Pundits are like local newscasters--talking about horrible human events as if they’re discussing puppets. Bush broke the fucking law. The surveillance goes beyond Muslim extremists. And there’s no immediate outrage from Republicans. It doesn’t make sense.
It’s a mystery--why bother with illegal wiretaps when congress would have likely given them the wiretaps legally. Intelligence gathering was actually fine pre 9-11, it’s just that the intelligence was ignored. And wire-tapping wasn’t the problem. It’s another mystery why the NY Times covered up this story before the election. Why the hell would the Times not want John Kerry to get elected?
This whole thing is making me feel down about the great stupidity of the American people. There should be immediate outrage about this, but there won’t be. It seems Bush can do anything he wants and it’s forgotten until the next round of Sunday news shows. Even breaking the law. The "Impeachment" word is finally being mentioned now. If the pundits start talking about impeachment being necessary and inevitable, there will be a change in public opinion--which is not exactly to the public’s credit, but it’s something. Not like that’s going to happen. The Democrats don’t have enough votes--even against something criminal. It’s a new cold war where Republicans or Democrats can never admit fault or defeat, and that’s dangerous. Hell of a fucking first year for the fucking President.
December 20, 2005
A Year's Subscription
I don’t know what to do with myself. I could work on fiction but my head’s not clear and it would probably exhaust me. I’ve run out of movies to watch. Yesterday I watched "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire." I’m not being cynical--there’s nothing I wanted more yesterday than to vegetate and watch a movie, but it was nearly unintelligible. I couldn’t follow it. I’ve never read a Harry Potter book. Someone please explain to me why a series of books about child wizards is OK fare for adults. I’m sure they’re thoughtful and entertaining but: they’re children’s books.
I’ve been watching a lot of movies. It’s Academy DVD time. Here are some one word reviews.
In Her Shoes: Bad
Elizabethtown: Bad
Narnia: Violent
Shopgirl: Dull
Squid and the Whale: Bleak
Broken Flowers: Detached
Hustle and Flow: Ruled
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory: Enjoyable
Match Point: Pretentious
Good Night, and Good Luck: School
Man, I’ve seen a lot of movies lately. These are just the ones I can remember. That’s what happens when they’re all free. I’d be better off if I never sat through "In Her Shoes." "Narnia" started off as a good kids' movie, but then it becomes really violent when it gets to the war. The main character in "Elizabethtown" is called a "failure and a fiasco" because he designs a poorly-selling shoe after being given too much creative freedom. It’s almost like Cameron Crowe made a bad movie on purpose to mimic his character. I actually liked Jim Jarmusch’s "Broken Flowers" all right. Bill Murray has played the detached rich guy one too many times: Rushmore, Royal Tennenbaums, Lost in Translation. I’m sure this has been mentioned in many reviews. Woody Allen always writes about fantastically sophisticated people--but it’s always balanced out by his neurotic schlubiness. In "Match Point," everyone is just too beautiful, young, sophisticated, and rich to be true. More thoughtful than his last several movies though.
I think I’ve reached my opinion threshold for 2005.
I’ve been watching a lot of movies. It’s Academy DVD time. Here are some one word reviews.
In Her Shoes: Bad
Elizabethtown: Bad
Narnia: Violent
Shopgirl: Dull
Squid and the Whale: Bleak
Broken Flowers: Detached
Hustle and Flow: Ruled
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory: Enjoyable
Match Point: Pretentious
Good Night, and Good Luck: School
Man, I’ve seen a lot of movies lately. These are just the ones I can remember. That’s what happens when they’re all free. I’d be better off if I never sat through "In Her Shoes." "Narnia" started off as a good kids' movie, but then it becomes really violent when it gets to the war. The main character in "Elizabethtown" is called a "failure and a fiasco" because he designs a poorly-selling shoe after being given too much creative freedom. It’s almost like Cameron Crowe made a bad movie on purpose to mimic his character. I actually liked Jim Jarmusch’s "Broken Flowers" all right. Bill Murray has played the detached rich guy one too many times: Rushmore, Royal Tennenbaums, Lost in Translation. I’m sure this has been mentioned in many reviews. Woody Allen always writes about fantastically sophisticated people--but it’s always balanced out by his neurotic schlubiness. In "Match Point," everyone is just too beautiful, young, sophisticated, and rich to be true. More thoughtful than his last several movies though.
I think I’ve reached my opinion threshold for 2005.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
