The Lag are a funny beast. We're more a live band than a studio band, by design. This friday we try to capture lightning in a bottle, with Patrice's hubby Johnny at the controls of a damn nice studio full of nice recording gear over an 8 hour day starting at 11am.
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At almost every juncture, we've chosen play quality over versatility in recording. We'll be using room mics rather than close microphone placement for the drums so we get a more acoustic feel. We'll be laying all the tracks live with only the vocals added after the fact. We're running cables under doors, taking full advantage of the glass and room spaces available to us. We've stated that we want big dynamics, room in the mix to go from quiet, to loud, to louder if the mood strikes us.
We've figured out what order we're recording in, how long things should take, and what might break. We're bringing spares of a lot of stuff because we play our instruments hard; strings and drumheads like to fail at the weirdest times. We're making the most of our time while we're there. We're loading our drums in the day before to let them stabilize after tuning in the room they'll be recorded in.
And we'll be handing what we do over to someone who is in the business of making other people sound good. For a band that has been a bunch of control freaks, it's a weird sort of surrender. But it should be fun. More so than anything, we want to capture what it sounds like when we're in the old practice room, or on stage. Not just the noise the instruments are making, but the fun we have. Just going through rehearsal recordings, a lot of our songs end in a stoked rebel yell, or "whoots", or yelling at each other, or laughing. It's a great feeling (the copious drinking doesn't hurt either). And the funny thing is we can't wait to be done with the recording process so we can give the substantial backlog of half done new ideas some time in the sun (for those who don't know, whenever you're supposed to be working on practicing the same 6 songs, you get *really* creative about doing well, anything else).
As a kid I barely ever played team sports. I think this made me a little bit of an asshole socially. I'm not sure if the band helps or hurts with the asshole bit, but it's great fun and it really is fun being part of a group where everybody is there because they choose to be, doing something they love doing. It's the opposite from doing the techno thing for sure. Instead of a super polished, pre-factored thing that you've worked on alone for so long, the music of the Lag starts a collective process the minute you play those first couple ideas of a song to the rest of the band and go over the chord changes. Other opinions sink in, you lose control to people you trust, and sometimes you just listen to the last echoes of something together and know none of you could have done it alone quite like that.
In the great 21st century storehouse of knowledge that is Wikipedia, Murphy's Law is defined as "Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.". I'm not a total believer in this, as I have a great appreciation for how not wrong things tend to go overall. I've yet to be struck by lightning or a meteorite, or bit by a fucking shark.
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But with just minutes to make it to work... right at that slightly tense border of on-time and late where rushing actually makes a difference, I enter the Posey tube headed towards Oakland. I follow the downhill arc as the sunlight changes to a flickering low pressure sodium maize, down past where the sidewalk changes rhythm and into the long slow grind back up towards Oakland.
And that's when I see him, a silhouette that at first plays with my eyes making me believe he is consuming the entire width of the walkway that is my path to salvation... or at least gainful employment. Oh wait, not an illusion... this guy is the dreaded wide load.
After a cursory review of my options, I realize that this is just a suck it day. I was lucky in some weird way that he was going towards Oakland, otherwise I would have had to turn around and wait for him at the end of the tube. With my luck maybe right as he exited another one would start the same journey. Perhaps I had discovered a recycling cartel. In any case...
We live strange and different lives. I'm following this guy, just wondering what it must be like. He's not going to work, this *is* work. The pole that all his bags of CA deposit bounty are tied to digs into his shoulders, he stops every 100 short paces or so to switch sides. He is wearing that curiously common uniform of the dignified transient, the dirty sportcoat, the clunky shoes. We're both walking at a crawl, and I reach into my skull and take him out of the "fucking piece of shit who is in my way" bin and put him in the now more appropriate "people who work too hard for way too little" drawer.
As we reach the end of the tunnel, there is a stairwell to the side where someone can let someone pass. He turns to check if he's been blocking anyone, sees me and smiles. He looks like a Chinese Tom Selleck with a graying bowl haircut, he has smile lines all over his face and a goofy mustache. I say "Tom Selleck!" and wave as I pass him, he beams a smile and heads up the stairs towards Chinatown on a gorgeous morning to turn his wares into cash.
I was late to work, but Murphy was a prick and a few minutes just don't matter.
The Surly, my shiny new road bike, is working out swell as a commute bullet. Aside from a civil engineering feat we'll call:
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THE POSEY TUBE.
The Island of Alameda is connected to civilization via three routes. They are the Park Street Bridge, the Fruitvale Bridge, and the Webster/Posey Tube system. The tube system is the most direct route from my apartment on the west end of Alameda to work in downtown Oakland (a savings of about 3-4 miles each way over the alternatives). But there's a catch. The reason why I call it a tube system is it is actually two separate tubes. One following Webster (Oakland towards Alameda) and the other connecting Posey in Alameda to Hamilton in Oakland.
Only the Posey tube has a sidewalk, and taking the road is both unwise (traffic treats it like a freeway with speeds of 60 mph fairly common) and also illegal. I know this because there are posted signs reminding me.
This sidewalk is elevated about 3 feet over car traffic, protected by a 3' railing, and about 3' wide. It is against a wall which is filthy with diesel and other particulate emission deposits. While never downright happy-go-lucky, sometimes it gets really bad. If a bicyclist comes the other way, you have to stand both bikes up and carefully pass each other. This morning I did this about 4 times. And then I ended up behind a small woman who was walking along at about two miles per hour listening to headphones. I didn't have the heart to startle her so I just got off my bike and followed her, figuring she'd turn around and check if anybody was behind her eventually. Of course, this never happened.
I emerged into the sunlight on the Oakland side slightly frustrated, the ride to work took me 23 minutes. This is about 50% of the time it would take via bus if you include waiting which is good, but math tells me I'm averaging about 8 mph, which is sad. I've got a target of about 15 mph average, should be possible if I get a holeshot through the tunnel and ride Broadway which has better light sync but I'm not there yet.
Could it be worse? Of course it could. A few months ago, I was doing the tube on my mountain bike, when I happened upon a homeless man pushing an overflowing shopping cart full of bottles, cans and other various shit. His transient-o-matic wide load was literally rubbing on the wall and regularly hitting the railing as well allowing no practical passing clearance. After a standoff of about 30 seconds, I just turned around and waited for the guy at the end of the tunnel, no amount of courtesy would let us pass each other without either climbing atop something, or performing some sort of gymnastic passage involving hanging on the railing on the streetside while carrying my bike.
Sometimes, on the bus I see amazing people.
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Today, I saw one. He was dressed in a lime green tracksuit with pinstripes. He had a matching hat, with a large marijuana leaf upon it. He looked like a superhero. Maybe "Dopeman", or "Indica Boy" or "The Chronic Kid". I was too shy to ask him what his special ability was. I'm pretty sure it wasn't "excellent work ethic" or "good at job interviews", but you never know.
Sometimes on that same bus I see high school kids that think they are gangsta. They wear hats with the price tag still on them. I would like them to meet the Original Gangsta:
$1.95 hanging to the right, rock steady, same as it ever was.
Finally, I sat across from a gentleman who was dressed head to toe in Italian designer bits. He spoke into his nice phone in what I believe was Farsi. I'm only about .01% fluent in the language, but it sounded like he was talking to a girl. Just miles away, the bus his 50 seat limo going right where he needed to be. The shades, the nice kicks, label whore jacket, the whole deal. Seeing him on a bus @ 8:30 was like seeing a swan in a machine shop. If I was all-powerful, I'd get him a later schedule, a posse and a nice Lexus with ticket-worthy tint.
Hi there, it's time for my once every 2 year post.
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Things are swell (thanks for asking).
Here are projects you should know about...
DAY JOB: I'm working at a little health information services company in Oakland. It's ok.
MUTOR: I'm working with Sean Ocean on some new techno material. He is acting as my cheerleader/manager/booking agent, and I get to write weird shit. Hopefully this might work a bit better than me solo, as I am a raging total fail at self-promotion.
THE LAG: We just played a show with our new three piece lineup. It was great. The shiny new Australian on bass is coming along nicely.
ARMIES OF TURTLE: This is a project I've been waiting years to get started with, but I think it's about time. I have some recordings I've made at home, very cute lo-fi stuff that doesn't fit anything else I do.
GENERALISSIMO: Just stopped by Andre's studio a couple weeks ago and made a fun contribution to the track "Iron Heart". The first take guitar solo left us giggling with joy, as I spooj arcs of ridiculously discipline-free over-the-top guitar over the band's regimented goodness, finally crashing into a pool of radio static. IS THAT WHAT YOU WANTED ANDRE?
Of course it is.
Moo. Moomoooooo! Moo?
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An upcoming version of Dance Dance Revolution should be packing a Mutor remix of an old school track from an earier title in the franchise. Like, real money and everything.
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Last weekend I played before Neil Landstrumm and it was great, had a blast. The only thing close to a problem was the table all my gear was on being set up so low that I couldn't possibly play without sitting down. My back pretty much insisted about 2 minutes into my set. Thanks Chris Yap for bringing him out and having me along. Good stuff. In my own estimation probably the best set I've played in over 5 years (despite it being nothing like what I'd been planning due to some equipment foo earlier in the week). Plus super fun hanging out all day earlier with Neil, who seriously weighs in as one of my biggest influences as a dance music producer.
My old highschool friend Justin (and former bandmate) came over this weekend, and along with my dear bassist George we wrote & recorded a timed rough for a 2.5 minute cue in Justin's work in progress (a documentary film called Vagabonds). Fun arrangement with 2 guitars and Justin playing piano, hope to make a "Lag"gier version of it soon with the full band that we'll then send back and forth to LA till it's done (Justin wants to add piano and possibly orchestral strings... although it seems prettier when it's less dense, go figure). In any case, after having viewed the scene with it's "placeholder" music (a Mazzy Star song) I'm flatterred that he asked me to work on it at all. It's a big sorta emotional turning point in the movie, neat to be called in for those (a more rewarding cue than say "kid #5 drinking soda" or "busy street scene with zoom to pretzel and cheese cart").
Now to try to sleep, Justin and I ended up catching up and talking old times till 6am last night, hard to go to sleep at a reasonable hour after that and waking up at >>4pm<<. Must de-slack now. Brush teeth, wash face, stay up in bed reading physics books till my eyes fail and I dream.
I'm on lunch break, enjoying a nice bright day in Sunnyvale, walking alone to go get some cruddy sandwich at the local strip mall. At the crosswalk, walk thingy is flashing. I boldly prepare to make my way across the 8 lanes of smoothly paved suburban intersection.
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No sooner do I leave the curb than... assface in a Lexus slams on brakes and does the "what the fuck?!?!?!" hand gesture and face, looking incredulously at his passengers, indicating towards the a-hole who dared cross the street in his way. I don't know what I was thinking, I didn't realize a Lexus was coming. My bad.
I look down at my feet and realize this is a great time to tie my shoe. Ah hell, I'll get the other one too. I have now made this poor sod 45 seconds later to Outback, his usually delightful billabong kangaroo burger will not digest correctly thanks to my contribution to his already epic stress level, my power knows no bounds. He will be unsettled during the board meeting this afternoon, and in his discomfort make a freudian slip that results in his eventual fall from executive grace and fiscal demise. Seeing as he traded in any meaningful relationships in his life and most of his personality for his ability to drive a lexus and accumulate mad scrilla, he will resign to the saddest slack: a burnt shell of a man. I would have preferred to pull a Firestarter on his ass but alas I was not born with the gift of pyrokenisis. In retrospec, I'm glad I didn't light the entire car on fire, it's hard to apologize for, and maybe *just maybe* his passengers were innocent. Don't know what it is, but it boggles my mind when someone in a car can't cut a pedestrian a little slack. Just totally graceless.
I slowly rise and proceed towards my goal of a reasonably priced lunch, peripheral vision is telling me he is headbutting his steering wheel. Poor guy is freaking out, and I've got two really well tied shoes and it's beautiful out. "Pleasant Valley Sunday" cues up in my head.
Flash update for those who missed it:
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Working at Opsware. www.opsware.com
Nice job, really. Yeah, it's support which I swore I'd never do but the only downside is the commute (SF-> Sunnyvale 4 days a week). Kinda neat in that support here works closely with engineering, and most of the people who I deal with are *really* smart. Nice to be surrounded by people who make you feel you have a lot to learn. Learning Python too, which is sorta quirky and almost doesn't even feel like a language. And I got the best piece of corp schwag ever I think yesterday (a Timbuk2 messenger bag). Now to find a patch large enough to cover the gaudy corporate logo.
And I'm playing this friday at a party. Live PA. I'm on right after Neil Landstrumm (one of my favorite producers of all time, and along with Tobias Schmidt my key inspiration to play live techno at all).
SF location (was going to be at OW but it's moved) call 510.287.5917 day of.
Aside from the realization that I've known you since you were 15 (scary), super great night... it was awesome spending some time with a person I've known for 8 years, eating a great meal, putting a major dent in a bottle of bushmills and just KO'ing gracefully under a pile of warm blankets. Without any voodoo boy/girl crud, just some old friends that haven't spent enough time together ***raises half empty glass and falls over***. You're fucking badass, I'm so glad you're feeling better and things seem to be going well for you.
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Tonight is the realm of _teh_epic_. Fire breathing jackasses will reclaim the earth, as Gus and I turn the screw on a fantasy world of Euro fashion criminals gone wrong. When a joke becomes something that makes you love putting loops together again (and I'm at a place right now where it's ok to put an Iron Maiden song together with some Al Green over a piano fill from a deep house classic, really), you know it's gotta be good. Day goes like so till then - band rehearsal with das Lag, work on my half of the SpaceHukur bisnis till Gus calls, then we try to land the limo so we can make a proper appearance. Maybe fit in a second hand clothing raid to get me 2seksi4my cat or something.
Why the fuck am I up this early when I've got a long day + evening planned? Well, um, I don't know.
Thanks to a simple mistake I forget to set my alarm for the right time, instead waking up too early. So I get up, play some guitar, write an idea down, clear my head, take a look through the window and see a great California sunrise. Walk to store. Not the close one, it's too early. The 7-11 that's about a mile down the hill.
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Grab my ipod and hoof it. Tuned to Verve's "A Storm in Heaven", set fairly loud but comfy.
One foot passes the other over and over, and I go into the relaxed yet alert observer state.
A pigeon flies away, and I imagine it's path as a brushstroke.
A wicker chair is left out, the ass on it is totally thrashed.
I can't help but smile as some kid walks by lip syncing some gangsta rap.
Two guys are in front of 7-11 thinking it's not obvious they're still up from a coke bender.
I keep seeing people smoking, and it's interesting to notice my perception of what they are doing change as I step further away from their habit.
The Indian place in the same mini mall as Sev' has an awesome motto I never noticed before "we serve you with our pleasure". For whatever reason, this must be photographed for Scosol at a later date.
After that whole walk, 7-11 doesn't have Rockstar in stock. But I cross the street and my caffeine organ (CNS?) is happy to find it there.
Walk home, sipping alertness enhancing liquid that tastes of B vitamins and corn syrup while thinking of how to address some technical problems at work with total clarity... float away into a world of scripts, backups, new instances, databases, file locks, and hierarchal self managing customer entities.
Come home, cook up a hash brown with some habanero salsa, take some glucosamine in the hopes that somehow this will help my shoulder heal, and write in my LJ. Not bad at all.
After having heard the Beatles little ditty "she came in through the bathroom window" a ton of times, I noticed something today.
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The lyric - "she could steal, but she could not rob" is not just a silly cocky synonym play (which is how I'd always written it off in my head... seeing as the rest of the tune is pretty absurd and all). It's a comment on a difference between the very nature of the two words "rob" and "steal", and maybe something about humans and how they like to see their own actions too.
When you snatch a purse from the old lady... you steal the purse, but you rob the lady. They describe the same act... but refer to a different object and therefore provide a slightly different color.
Weird. Never saw it that way before.
This is stuck in my head... *sorry!*
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Nothing can come between us
Nothing gets you down
Nothing strikes your fancy
Nothing turns you on
Somebody is waiting in the hallway
Somebody is falling down the stairs
Set someone free, break someone's heart
Stand up help us out
Everything is divided
Nothing is complete
Everything looks impressive
Do not be deceived
You don't have to wait for more instructions
No one makes a monkey out of me
We lie on our backs, feet in the air
Rest and relaxation, rocket to my brain
Snap into position
Bounce till you ache
Step out of line
And you end up in jail
Bring me a doctor
I have a hole in my head
But they are just people
And I'm not afraid
We have nothing in our pockets
But we have nothing left to offer
Faces pressed against the window
Hey! they are just my friends
Check this out don't be slick
Break our backs it goes like this . . .
We are born without eyesight
We are born without sin
And our mama protects us
From the cold and the rain
We're in no hurry
sugar and spice
We sing in the darkness
As we open our eyes.
I can't believe it
And people are strange
Our president's crazy
Did you hear what he said
Business and pleasure
Lie right to your face
Divide it in sections
And then give it away
There are no big secrets
Don't believe what you read
We have great big bodies
We got great big heads
Run it all together
Check it out - still don't make no sense
Makin' flippy floppy
Tryin to do my best
Lock the door
We kill the beast
I get called a nerd at least once a week. Justifiably, it's usually for doing or saying nerdy things. Like today, I was talking about wanting to do some music programming in perl, to keep up on the language doing something that keeps my interest... and maybe learn something about music in the process. Well, a little research today hurt my head as I made a painful realization.
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I am not a nerd.
This guy is a nerd:
So is this guy:
And then I found a whole gang of them:
Um, yeah, just hold up a second on that drum fill while I fine tune my Markov Chain algorhythm code.
It's either a totally delusional crackhead diversion, or the future of music. Never could tell.
Big up the Lag massif, a splendid time was had by all.
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Last saturday's festivities with Lag regulars Captain Andy, Admiral Akbar Porter and Don General Jorge in addition to two delightful band aids named Heathuur and Lydiuur were off_das_chain.
Good work team. Hootenany madness, gold stars earned all around!
Now I feel like I gave birth, the injury list is now shoulder + rib + tailbone + jaw (new), but really, it was so worth it. The whole sustainable path of destruction and time to heal in between I thought possible several years ago is really panning out nicely as a liveable reality... although I'm ahead of schedule on debauchery coming out of last year and into this one. Does quitting smoking still count as a good thing? ;)
Woke up just in time to attend dinner on Sunday. Well, ok, so we showed an hour late (sorry rest of party). Yummy soup, yummy steak, yummy creme brulee, good company, nice opportunity to say adios to mister Ryan (after not really getting a chance to spend any time with him at his goin away party friday). Then, hightailed it to O-town for a byebye to Ian (seriously one of the nicest people I have ever met) and some East Bay hangage.
All the world's a stage, and we're making an obtuse french film with a badass soundtrack.
After a tailspin donkey fucking hum crapper of a day, I feel like it's the first day of spring, I just cleaned the house and all the windows are open. Viva unmedicated bipolar quit smoking spaz brain. The ups are so up, the downs are so down, and I feel like I should take any friend I've contacted in the past two weeks to dinner on principle alone.
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I've worried so much about so many things in my life; but friends, music and these little glimpses of a beauty outside me that strike me as if by design when I hit my lamest moments have always been there for me. Eventually. :)
The moments I've liked most this week:
* An AIM chat I had just a couple minutes ago where I got to be totally honest, say everything I've wanted to say but couldn't and have it help things. Cut off before it got to sappy to sustain, forever halted, perfect. Really. Not the first time either. *raises glass to friend for being kickass, and making me feel kickass too*
* This guy on MUNI who sat a couple seats ahead of me on the way to HuggerMugger... he sits down with his bag, opens it, and pulls out a frozen fruit and juice bar sorta thing. Mind you it's not so warm. Well in any case, he's not noticing me, but he's just one of those people that sprays life all over the place... sorta dorky and animated but genuine. Sticks that bar in his mouth, and ties his shoe. He then sorta looks back at the box he took the bar out of (it's a 4 or 6 pack), and smiles and hugs the box. I think they were these. In any case, all I saw was that they were green, and on my way off the train, I ask him what flavor that was... and he says lime, and smiled all huge again.
* At work today, while it was a crappy day overall... I'm playing some jams we recorded in rehearsal over the last couple weeks, and one of my coworkers is totally loving it... asked who it was and all that... not even knowing it's my band (the one with ChrisP and GeorgeC). Whoot!
* Phone call last night with an old friend.
* Getting a ride from ChrisP everyday this week.... while a pain in the ass sorta almost for him, he's one of the few friends that I don't feel weird getting a favor from. Because I know I'd take a bullet for the butthead, and I think he knows it. But we'd never talk about it, cause we're like, not gay and stuff.
* Another MUNI story, there's this woman hugging a man before she gets on the train. She gets on in a hurry, and she looks right at me when I realize she's been in some sorta of bad accident at some point in her life and I guess my face gives away some cue that makes her feel ackward. Well, she sits a couple seats ahead of me, facing forward so I can't see her... and I feel like I made her feel bad. But the guy she was hugging sees her, and knocks on the window.. and she turns towards the window, mouths something, and the way she puts her head against the window as the train pulls away just strikes me as totally beautiful.
* Hanging out with Gus and Raf being grumpy techno curmugeons late into wednesday morning... smoking a shoob (my first smoked anything since tuesday before last) and talking music with two people that I just know love it as much as I do.
* finding a badass new Miyamoto Mushashi book (best known as Japanese master swordsman and author of Book of Five Rings) after dinner with Chris and Heather at Chevys... where I had habanero fajitas, a big margarita, and almost offerred to marry this cute australian woman who was having visa problems. Well, not really, but I did run out and tell her she left her sweater in there when she left without it. As an aside, what the hell is wrong with me? Why do I know what every table around us was talking about? There was the guy explaining H1's and outsourcing to a coworker, the college girls talking about class schedules and visas and what a "citizenship marriage" runs, and the couple having a bad night out. However many techno bookings, however many bands I've been in, how many firecrackers as a kid, and I KNOW I'm nowhere near deaf yet.
Well, I'm livin' in a foreign country but I'm bound to cross the line
Beauty walks a razor's edge, someday I'll make it mine.
If I could only turn back the clock to when God and her were born.
"Come in," she said,
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."
- Bob Dylan 1974
Spacehookerz make their first flyer appearance for the upcoming "Love is a Battlefield" Sat Feb 12th, complete with our alternate universe booking history, and sexy photos of me (Andrei) and Gus (Gustavo)...
the Eastern European sensation that is taking the world by storm. We can't help how much we rock, we were mild mannered conventional power plant safety inspectors till a horrible accident with some naptha and a radioactive scorpion... check the press release
and learn the awful truth about the next trendy fashion and crappy music fueled invasion to hit US shores! Come see us while you can still hear our sorry attempts at music over the cheering adolescent girls! Experience just how hollow the hype is, and then some!
FIND OUT, Be there!
p.s. if you caught the last SpaceHookerz set at Lit late last year, YOU _KNOW_ this is going to be something to write home about!!! I mean, I'm kinda kidding, but then, I'm not!
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i am a manatee
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repeat after me.
go mind your own business,
your cruft not o.k.
i am a manatee,
get the fuck out mah swamp.
take your razor sharp rotors,
and stay'way from mah back.
i am a manatee,
i get home after three.
with a deadline before me,
repeat after me.
Can't really work today, something about today. It's drizzling here in San Rafael, the initial "woohoo I lived" of laying my bike down has panned out, and I'm realizing that I was *very* lucky. Just thinking about things, and I was reflecting back to my last couple jobs... there's been good things about all of them, but sometimes I just wish I could do nothing but music all day. Stay home and make techno, write pop songs, poems, weird ambient shit, make noises, play with synthesis, write max patches... I love it all.
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*look out, hard left turns ahead*
In the 60s, the songwriting team of Simon and Garfunkel started to pick up traction... by the time of their last album together, they'd seen songwriting as a sort of craft. So far as you could write a song around any topic or story or catching phrase. So much so, that Art Garfunkel dared or challenged Paul Simon to write a song about one of Art's heroes. See, Paul was in most people's minds the more talented of the two... Art had considered a career as an architect as his backup gig to being a musician. And I sometimes wonder if all my jobs have been some sort of backup to what I wish I was doing. So I get to work in this house (which is gorgeous), previous job I got to work in some really nice places (most notably the Maybeck house in Berkeley), and there was a time when I wanted to be an architect. And I was raised on this shit... Bridge over Troubled Water was my favorite album I raided from my parents (and has aged better than "Best of the Bee Gees" and Barry Manilow's "Even Now").
In any case, a tip of the hat to a song about an amazing technical artist, that doubles as a farewell to one of pop/folk music's greatest duos... and having this in my head is the butter on my bread.
So long, frank lloyd wright.
I cant believe your song is gone so soon.
I barely learned the tune
I'll remember frank lloyd wright.
All of the nights we'd harmonize till dawn.
I never laughed so long
Architects may come and
Architects may go and
Never change your point of view.
When I run dry
I stop a while and think of you
So long, frank lloyd wright
All of the nights wed harmonize till dawn.
I never laughed so long
It's really weird how a week out, I was craving a cigarette like I could not believe last night. What was different about last night? Drank enough beer to be lightly buzzed while I was out with John + Mark + gang... not drunk or anything, but just enough for what might be a habitual craving to be a borderline obsession.
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Paced the halls, opened the drawer where I keep my pack, picked it up, put it down.
Just me, no witnesses, just a puff and I'll put it out?
Well, I didn't, but why? It's so weird that something that does nothing can do so much to a person. I found myself thinking I'd be better disciplined, mentally sharper, and a slew of lies I was telling myself. The reality of all my reasons for quitting was so far away, and I'm just glad I stuck with it. It's not stopping if you're bargaining with yourself like that. You decide to do something, you do it. I eat nails for breakfast, fart lightning, and snort chopped up babies hardcore. I've done some things that people seem to make a big deal out of that aren't to me, but I can't deny that anytime someone pats me on the back for quitting, I feel great. On one hand, all I have to do is not put burning tobacco in my mouth... seems so easy, but I'm kicking a monkey that's been on my back for a long time. Ook Ook :P
In better news, new releases on the horizon. Chris "da Mang" Jackson just released an OLD remix I gave him some time ago on the http://resourcerecords.com site (a breaks/2step influenced super chopped up interpretation of System Abuse aka Reso#5... do yourself a favor and check the original CJ work, plex's mix and my mix to get an idea of what you can do with remixing using no "tracked" source material, just the finished track as an AIF file and a little [ < 2s ] clip of a riverside choir sample from the movie "rockers ").
Right on the heels of that, I've got a three track mp3 EP coming up... with some fuller newer sounds I've been banging lately (also destined for the RESO imprint's mp3 arm). I'm also shopping some IDM/ambient to a couple labels I've always been interested in. Maybe I'll get a new mix out to boot (been playing a lotta ambient/weirdcollege dj fare lately, and I feel like sharing).
And for those who don't know where I've gone for the last couple days... say hi to me on Warcraft sometime. It's my new addiciton, to help substitute for all that time I spent on my back porch smoking. I know, I know, nerdy as all hell, but it's healthier + cheaper and helps me pass time through nicfits. And if I play with friends, it seems ever slightly less lame and slightly more social.
"So it's sorta social... Demented and sad, but social" - John Bender, Breakfast Club
Realm = SilverHand
Character = Wushen (12th level night elf/druid)
Mostly, I collect flowers and beat things to death, just like in real life. I have to say, it's one of the most amazing game experiences ever after a slow start wondering what the big fuss was about... World of Warcrack is more like it. Pretty, well designed world, true to the Blizzard game authoring style while allowing a massive amount of interplayer dynamic. Some hiccups, but really incredible overall.
(and a last funny note... while researching Judd Nelson's character name in BC, I found that if you type in "demented and sad but social" into Google in quotes, you get Pyramid aka Steve Jackson Games as the first result. For those who know, that's about as funny as it gets)