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...
My amp is warming up so I thought I'd warm you up.
Fucked up my back at work yesterday. Came home and rested and wrote a new song. Got a good night's rest and woke up and grabbed some grub at the farmer's market. Yum. Headed to Amoeba Records in search of this Tom Petty documentary. No luck so I picked up some vinyl. The Plimsouls, and Julian Casawhatever from the Strokes solo record. As I was leaving my car started fine but wouldn't move when I shifted into reverse. I dicked around calmly as one does when he or she isn't quite ready to deal with this type of weekend goose. Then I called AAA. I was in the garage and the tow guy couldn't get in. He called his co-worker who was in a pickup truck and we pulled all sorts of shenanigans getting it out. He ended up just pulling me out with a big chain and I stayed in the car to steer. It was weird. I was graciously pleased at how both Jose's didn't judge me for needing a lollipop to shift my car out of park. It's been like that for about a year now. Not really sure why. Took it to my mechanic/angel Eddie a while back and he says to me, "I can fix it and it will be expensive, or you can use this little lollipop to unlock the secret snowman button that's hidden in all automobiles in case this type of thing ever happens." Not a direct quote but needless to say I chose the latter. Anyways Jose's got a kick out of it. They almost respected my decision to do this instead of fixing it. By the way they really were both named Jose, I'm not being white. Jose #1 dropped me and my car off at Eddie's and had a delightful series of conversations including how nice it was outside and if it would be worth it to replace my transmission. I hitched a ride with Ronny Perkins and George Applebee back to koreatown.
The baby dog that lives above me squeals a lot and today is no exception. I'm always a little conflicted when it happens. It's always a combination of "I hope that poor thing is ok, should I save him?, and shut the fuck up you stupid little fuck get a life". The 3rd one only peaks in on instinct, dick human emotion. On my way up from throwing in a load of laundry I see this power walker lady who lives upstairs and one door down. She's always telling me things as if she's exposing some kind of scandalous secret where she cups the side of her mouth and whispers things like, "the dryer in the middle never works...ever". She says "oh you have the barking puppy above you" and I say "is he ok?" and she says in a manner as if she were about to tell me its owner beats it with a steak knife, "separation anxiety, it's just separation anxiety. He'll be fine, he'll be fine." So I guess I'm just glad it's ok and not being tortured by Dr. Phil or Gary Glitter or something.
So it's the freakin weekend, and I'm trapped inside with a bum back, no car, and a squealing puppy above me. None of these things would be much of a nuisance if I were dead so I've decided that none of them are. I have ginger ale, I have my guitars, I have a few beers, I have some records, my amps warmed up smack ya butt for me.
So Joe Sirois is officially our new drummer. Went out for wings last night and sealed the deal. We couldn't be happier about this. We play our first show with him in December and it's a very special one, details to come.
I turned 27 the other day, weird. I got some awesome gifts including; a george foreman grill, a snuggie, 2 books, 3 vinyl records (Tom Petty, ZZ Top, Dead to Me), and a slim jim.
Had our last show with Phill in Boston and it was a blast. Played to 700 people and it was an awesome crowd.
Spending time with friends and family back on the east coast was such a nice reset. We're back in the swing of things and starting to piece together a formal relaunch of the band. This weekend is likely to include a trip to the race track, intense rehearsal, and new band pics with the new lineup!
Joe and I went to see Devo last night. They sounded fucking amazing. They played Freedom of Choice in its entirety and Josh Freeze is a machine. Got a little claustrophobic at the end and had to bail. I was getting the sweats and started seeing things.
I just got the new Dead to Me record today and I can't wait to hear it on my ride home. I decided to listen to the Shods all day today.
Went to New York City and had a blast. I Walked around a ton, drank coffee, dominated public transportation, and drank beer. I hopped on the Chinatown buss and headed to Boston. When my Mom picked me up at the Lowell train station AC/DC was playing on the radio. She's awesome. We went out to eat and she noticed my newest tattoo and was a good sport as always. She asked me with a big smile if I was done and so I said yes...for now. She then went on to tell me she's so glad I never got a giant parrot on my arm, "you know like sleeves?...yuck". She cracks me up. A parrot?
Nothing was going on last night so I went to the movies alone and saw "Law Abiding Citizen". It was so bad it was good. So good.
Spent today drinking coffee and relaxing for the first time in a while. This lyric popped into my head and I will most certainly not be using it: "The Doors shoulda had a bassist, Jim was a hack and Ray's a racist". Ha. Fuck The Doors. Ha.
