If youtube existed 30 years ago and you typed in "up the hill backwards" you'd get this:
Today:
We're working as hard as we can. We got a new band room and we're in it finalizing the writing for our new record. Some songs are 5 years old, some are 5 minutes old. Some songs have had upwards of 11 versions. All of the songs make us very happy and we can't wait for you to hear them. I think when it's done I will feel similar to when Jessica McClure surfaced alive.
I just scored Songs in the key of life for a buck at goodwill. So if you only have a dollar in your wallet that's fine. All is prosperous on the western front.
I had to make a bunch of bacon for this thing, short story. Anyways it was not to be eaten, it was a prop of sorts. I ended up procrastinating and made it at 5:30am right after a frantic shower. There I was standing in my kitchen in my undies with literally 8 plates of bacon on my kitchen table plus this weirdo diy cigarette kit that I have going and there's tobacco everywhere and I look crazy cause i've been up all night and because i am with born on the usa spinning on my turntable and I look up to see my neighbor smoking a cigarette on his front porch. He got to see this whole scene, at 5:30am. I started to feel awkward and immediately realized it wasn't necessary. This guy got to say to himself, "i just saw that, that was real, that really just happened". I laughed a lot for the next hour.
I got a new amp and I love her.
The record is coming along slow and steady. "You can't rush art, baby" Been spending some time doing re-writes on some tunes that fell to the wayside and they're sounding awesome. Here's the current chewbacca list:
Don't Go Eddie Later Fairfield Transfer Go For It Hearts Still Beat Away I Said I'd Start a Revolution Ripley Forsaithe Who Wants Breakfast? Goodnight Jimmy Lee Toeing The Line Pistol Record Players In Every Room Hornet We Sent a Limousine Twinkle Mary and Bobby Goodbye Addie Terrible One Mark's Monologues Red Jacket Call to Arms My Aim is True Textbook Answers Pacifier
It seems like no matter what we do there's 22 songs. We kill a few then one comes back and then we remember another one and work on that, then we blend 2 together, etc, etc, etc.
Edge of Darkness starring Mel "The Holocaust Never Happened" Gibson was fucking badass. If you're into popcorn flicks that allow you to shut off your brain for 2 hours, this is the jam. They should have called it, "My Daughter Was Murdered, I'm From Boston, and I'm Very Very Upset About It". Mel's still got it, and by that I mean the ability to be both racist and badass on camera. If you liked the movie "Taken" you will like this one. Why am I reviewing a movie right now?
Anyways music, the reason life is cool. Right right. I'm gonna go make some.
I watched the first half of the movie "Moon" last night. I feel like that guy. I've been locked away in my apartment writing and recording and obsessing and second guessing and drinking los angeles tap water courtesy of the brita. Why are we so concerned with drinking clean water? God could tinkle a germ-less, crystal clear stream right into our mouths and we'd still get annoyed over safe drivers and taxes. I want brita to make a filter for the radio and self doubt. If they won't I will. I mean what if I hadn't been at Abe's house the day MTV premiered the Basket Case video by green day? I didn't have cable so I could have missed it. I wouldn't have walked home with the same pep. I wouldn't have walked into my room that day to retrieve the dusty guitar under my bed that I had given up on because 2 guitar lessons made me want to do math homework. If I was 11 years old at Abe's today I'd be forced to watch an episode of Jersey Shore and I could be on my way to an orange skinned creatine date rape nerd punch nightmare backstage at a nickelback concert listening to techno passed out in a bathroom mumbling fragments from some demented catholic prayer and drinking the cleanest water that's ever existed.
We went into the studio to track drums for 10 of the 22 or so songs left in the rudy cant fail bin. We'll do the rest in a few weeks and see where we're at with proper demos. I've grown fond of the 10 song record over the years but this meat factory might need a thicker floor for your love. I'd kill to have it be a double album but unfortunately we're not distributing tanning lotion, bibles, or a device that makes water transparent.
Sorry about the swearing. Must be something in the brita
It's a sad day friends. Jay Reatard passed away in his sleep last night. His real name was Jimmy Lee Lyndsey Jr and he was an amazing musician from Memphis that I really admired and respected. He was only 29. I spent today writing and recording this for him. I feel a little better. Rest in peace reatard.
Goodnight Jimmy Lee
Goodnight Jimmy Lee
first time heard you felt like I heard me. My Mom called said im in the magazines thinking how the hell did he beat me. now he’s gone and I’m no Jimmy Lee
Goodnight Jimmy Lee
met you twice you kind of seemed mean. but I’d punch dudes who mess with my machines stayed up all night the night that you dreamed. I’m not missing Hammer but I know now what you mean
Goodnight Jimmy Lee
I love fucked up chords and melodies. Phoned in drumming helps my self esteem hope they’re rioting in Tennessee. Set this sweaty bloody reatard free
Well we pretty much cut down 75 songs to 34 songs for the new record. Kinda daunting in a way but a good problem to have I suppose. We're gearing up for our shows next week with Against Me! and then we're gonna regroup in the new year to cut down 34 songs to 20 or so, then hopefully hit the studio.
****I just went to get a birthday gift for my Uncle Ron who has spent the last few restoring a 1964 Ford Falcon that was sitting in a barn in Indiana. I found a book called "The Cobra in the Barn". It's about cars that are in barns and get restored. I went ahead and went with that one.****
I stayed up all night recently writing a song called "Pistol". It's really strange but I'm kind of obsessed with it. I listened to it like 100 times. I always enjoy writing something without much thought, just go go go. And then take a step back and really listen to it.
The songs are starting to work together and the best of them are sticking out strong. Total genre annihilation I say. This is everything we love musically, and what we've experienced in life, and what we're excited about in the future all mixed together.
I'm encouraging anyone who reads this to leave comments. It'll encourage me to post more and better, great grammar hammer.
Heading to Jimmy Kimmel Live in a bit to see our boy Joe play tonight! In the rain!
I'm blasting David Bowie's 1983 album Let's Dance in my apartment and there's nothing my neighbors can do about it. They can feel about it all they want but no actions, verbal or physical can stop me at this time. Thanks. Did you know Stevie Ray Vaughn was his guitar player on that record? Brendan Connor told me that, and it was true.
I picked that record up yesterday along with Elvis Costello's Armed Forces, The Waterboys Fisherman's Blues, The Police's Synchronicity and Zenyatta Mondatta, XTC's Black Sea, The Pretenders II, Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers Long After Dark, and last but not least The Beatles Rubber Soul in mono from the Goodwill for $1.99
So yea that all ruled.
I was in Rite Aid today to get a light bulb for my kitchen light that's been out for a week now and has rendered the room scary and out of commission and a Jon Secada song came on. Now would be a great time dismiss for knowing there's no H in John when it's a Secada. I tell ya what, that shit is depressing. Something about that dreary early 90's radio garbage can send volts of sad right through my system, and in this moment it did. I almost ditched the light bulb and scrammed, but then I thought about how mysterious my kitchen has became and how I didn't eat until 3:30pm today because of this, and I manned it out. Bowie's preventing it from popping into my head at any point. That would be awful.
After I left Rite Aid I saw an elderly Asian man get creamed by a car that ran a red light. Now I saw a motorcycle accident on 101-N a few months back and this was easily worse to witness. But you know what? The son of a bitch got right up, brushed himself off, and assured the driver he was ok and not to worry about it, and continued on his way home. I was shocked. I mean I'm a young and healthy man and if that were me I woulda been involuntarily crying, like in a little kid way where you can't speak and you just keep hiccuping violently. But not this dude. Man, you know you're an awesome human being when you get NAILED by a speeding car at the age of 80 and then basically say with your actions "wow, close one". Asians are amazing, I think they're my favorite people. And elderly people are awesome too. So needless to say this guy is my friend.
However it kinda fucked me up seeing this and it totally botched up all of my motor and decision-making skills. So I immediately went to Burger King and ordered a #7. You know, the "Chicken Fries" one. What the fuck? They were playing motown songs and I thought to myself "why such great music with such awful food, if I had went to some power lunch LA joint to get a salad I'd be listening to Lady GaGa right now". Then I remembered I was in the same lot that has a Starbucks with Magic Johnson on the wall, and I couldn't figure out if I was stumbling upon a shallow conspiracy theory or if I was just mildly racist. Either way I went to Starbucks after and got a creme brulee latte and discovered that it was perhaps both.
Now I'm back home listening to records and playing guitar. I just lost the last of the daylight while I was typing this and now I'm going to go change a ceiling light bulb in the dark. If I fall at least I'll be listening to Rubber Soul in mono.
If selling shit on Craigslist was a sport, it would be both wise and accurate to called me Michael Jordan, Pete Rose, or Jim Thorpe. I decided today to huck some various musical items that I simply don't use anymore. One of these items was a little digital 4-track. The gentleman who came and picked it up was named Leroy Radcliffe. Turns out he played in The Modern Lovers, a band I'm quite fond of and listen to their record all the time. He also played for Todd Rundgren, and the Chartbusters to name a few. I gave him a copy of Suffer City and we ended up shooting the shit for a bit. We spoke of our co-admiration for recording on analog tape and Fender Telecasters. He told stories about producing one of the Real Kids records and opening for Jimi Hendrix while I told him about how one of my guitars was in an explosion and how one time i caught a knife that had been thrown at me with my teeth. Had to make up the latter story in an attempt to balance it all out, but at one fine moment we both acknowledged each other as cool guys. He instinctually gave me advice as a young artist, easily reading me and my situation to the best of his experienced ability. Seeing that one of my eyes twinkles with blood shot optimism and the other is trying its best to ignore the grey hairs that keep popping up in my beard and skull. He said to me, "pump out the shit and don't judge it. Don't worry what people are going to think of it". I'm glad this wasn't my long overdue sex talk as I fear that statement taken out of context is brash, scary, and confusing. We promised to keep in touch and it was an honor to meet him. My only regret is that I didn't smoke a joint with him on my roof. I feel like I may have heard the expanded version of Brian Jones teaching him the right way to play some Rolling Stones song story if that had happened. I'm also now proud to announce that I know two Leroy's who both go by Lee and are both awesome. Here's some of their finer work...
