the word
decem
ber 2008
note to self
here is a conversation i had today.
'
sometimes i read the blog on your site.''why?'
'it's an ugly, pretentious word.'
'you're an ugly pretentious person.'
'shut up.'
'i've noticed you're starting to drift from news about your
music to more of like a personal diary.'
'i was afraid that would happen eventually.'
'so who are you talking to on there?'
(pause to think) 'i don't know.'
'yourself?'
(another pause) 'yeah, i think so.'
madmen in motion in motion
so in the interest getting back to music news, madmen in motion are starting to record more seriously now. if my count is correct we've got eight songs written at the present. and we've got an album title picked. but that's a secret.
december 2008
don't matter if you're black or white
a friend asked me today if i liked michael jackson. i answered honestly, 'no.' a slurry of confusion and disgust dripped down his face. he replied something sardonic, i don't remember what. later he mentioned it a few times, mentioning that i was the 'only person in the world' who did not like him. i know michael jackson was/is very popular but i didn't expect that kind of reaction.
then came my favorite question ever, a question i've had to answer a million times in my life about different musicians or songs or, during my first eighteen years, music itself. the question: 'why don't you like him?' why don't i like that music?! my answer, as it always is to that question, was, 'because his songs don't make me feel good.' and really, isn't that the whole point?
i can count in my head eight people who have directly or indirectly called me insane for not liking michael jackson. a 28 year old white girl, a 14 year old black guy, a 23 year old white guy, a 25 year old white girl, an 18 year old filipino girl, a 57 year old mexican guy, a 21 year old japanese girl, and a 26 year old chinese guy.
'hi, i'm sean. it don't matter if you're black or white, you're going to think i'm weird.'
decem
ber 2008
decem
ber 2008
save a hater
i saw the move 'milk' last night. perfect. i have been
thinking lately of the idea that there are no bad people, just
the disease of bad outlooks or bad ideas. the movie's portrayal
of dan white further solidified that theory. i knew what he was
going to do, i knew he was the villain in this tale... but he
was no villain. he was yet another victim, a soul malnourished
in love.
i felt myself pulling for him, 'come on, dan. i know you're
better than this. i can see it in you. come on, dan.'
bob dylan said, 'don't hate nothin' at all except hatred.' i
believe in no one sentence more. don't hate the haters. they are
sick. if you hate cancer you try to help those you love beat it.
you try to help them beat what is inside them. i'm sure you know
someone, probably closer than you wish to admit, maybe grandma
at thanksgiving, muttering about 'those blacks' or 'those
illegals' or 'those damn queers'. cognitive dissonance wrenches
at your brain, pulling at both sides until there is only a thin
translucent strand holding your understanding of the world
together. and inside that wormhole of gray matter you learn a
profoundly important lesson: good people can do bad things.
you know to your core that if grandma were only born later, or
in a different part of the country, or if she only met some of
your friends who you know she'd like, she would have a different
outlook. you don't give up on grandma because when she smiles at
you, the way she has since you were born, you know you are
looking at a person capable of any and all kinds of love. she
just needs the chance to learn.
i think to leave the movie hating dan white for the murder of
harvey milk is precisely the wrong response. the best way to
increase understanding in the world is to practice it, even when
--and perhaps especially when-- it is very difficult to do so.
and so, i still root for every dan white in the world. i root
for every dan white, armed only with love and understanding, to
turn into, let's say, a harvey milk.
save a hater, show them love.
novem
ber 2008
..but yet so far
for a very innocent and tenable reason i ended up on
youporn.com today. wow. the peak of humanity. i'm not sure if
i'm the only one who thinks that the distraction of the little
voice in my head saying, "consider what this is, consider why
that girl is doing that, consider why you think you will enjoy
it," overshadows any bit of erotic feelings it might bring. porn
like is junk food, it might fill you up but you know not good
for you. and what's the objective? watching disillusioned people
who need the money do things with one another that may bare a
resemblance to what you enjoy doing in your own life? at some
point can't the circumstances involved in something filter it
enough to where it's no longer what it's intended to be? when
can the differences between two similar things become such a
great obstacle that there is no longer a strong enough
connection for it to be worth anything anymore?
and plus, watching porn is sort of like starting a cover band.
if you know how to play and you've got all the gear, it's far
more satisfying to find some band mates and make some songs of
your own.
perhaps love songs, eh?
novem
ber 2008
meant to be?
i've been discussing a new project with a girl named ssr from new york and i am excited because it might mean a new long distance collaboration (always fun) and perhaps a reason to catch a bird to the other coast for the purposes of mastering or some such excuse.
also she's cute. should that matter?
november 2008
meant to be
i asked you why you didn't let go of my hand and you said you
thought i was the one who held on and so we decided it was meant
to be, whatever that phrase is supposed to mean, i don't think
it means anything, to be honest.
but i won't tell if you don't.
october 2008
guess who...
here is a photograph of me.
ps. that had nothing to do with music. sorry.
october 2008
eels
you should go listen to an album called 'electro-shock blues' by a band called eels. i'm asking you to listen to this music because i no longer can.
if i had a coming of age it came during my years in college. my roommate played eels over and over and although i liked them, it was more like background, a soundtrack to life, than anything else.
tonight i popped 'electro-shock blues' into the cd player. i had no idea what i was getting myself into. my speakers, which are magic, do just fine at releasing sound into the air. but they can do a little extra. they can put out thoughts as well. the first note of 'elizabeth on the bedroom floor' immediately transported me to 2005. i'm sitting at my desk, staring at my thermodynamics homework. i glance to my right at andy, my roomy. he's steeping his tea and watching the sunset. i think of asking him if he's heard our friends' new underdeveloped and overused joke, that he and i are 'heterosexual lifepartners', but decide not to because andy is far too busy. also i do not accept that title. at least not upon it's most literal meaning. though i can think of many people with whom i'd feel far less comfortable sharing this position. i take a deep breath, i'm convinced the stale dorm room air is the same that was here thirty years ago. eels keep playing. jared barros wanders in and has nothing, whatsoever, to say. he and i talk for fifteen minutes. then he wanders out of the room. eels keep playing. andy and i decide it's time for bed. we turn off the light and talk for an hour and a half. all the while i have absolutely no clue how much i will miss what i am doing. no clue how much i will miss going to bed knowing that i will see thirty of my friends tomorrow. and the same the next day. and the next. we complain about the school and the food and our teachers and our grades. we constantly remind one another that we cannot wait to leave. we cannot wait for things to change. i miss the days when i longed for the future. i remember many times telling stephen schultze, 'these are the days, man. these are the days.' intellectually, i understood that that was true. emotionally, i had no idea at all.
now, onto track two.....
september
2008
evocation
here is something i wrote a while ago which i have recently run into and not a moment too soon as i feel these sentiments now more than ever.
somewhere deep within our cluttered minds resides a hallow curiosity, an unfuelled spark whose recessed inquisitiveness yearns to surface, but is too apprehensive to bust the facade and unblur the very ambiguity which defines it indefinitely. occasionally, you can feel its presence, right under your nose, where its fragrance emanates sporadically like that of a vase of roses on a breezy sill. less regularly, but more eminently another human being can tickle that spot, can stimulate that uncultivated seed. out blooms a floral beauty whose efflorescence shines and completes the circle of life, mind and purpose. the phenomenon, though, is finite and inauspiciously recedes back into the unknown, only to return the next time it is intellectually aroused by one impetuously special person. right now that person for me is cornel west, a brilliant and beautiful man and lover of "every brother and sister with a beating heart and a reachable soul."
as music becomes more and more a part of me, whenever i associate a song or even a single note with an emotion or a memory, i cannot help but be reminded of the people who give me these same feelings.
a great human being like cornel west, who speaks with such blues-infected rhythm and sweet melodic love, is truly poetic. not just in his words, but in his very existence.
september
2008
my favorite language
i'm an atheist. i'm registered independent. i don't have a facebook account. i was never in the boy scouts. i hate mexican food. i'm an anarchist, and a socialist. i don't like dane cook. i didn't listen to music until i was 18. i've never eaten a twinkie. and i own like three shirts.
and none of that mattered when i met a nice 13 year old kid on the train who likes a lot of the same music as i do. nor did our age difference matter. the music is all that mattered.
music is a language. it's a language that discriminates against no one, and can be spoken to anyone.
it's like french, i may know a word or two, but i really have no idea what it means. all i know is it sounds beautiful.
and to tell the truth, i don't want to know what it means.
nerd
oh yeah, one more thing that was on my mind today.
a couple friends tried to get me to like the band 'n.e.r.d.' a short while back and i resisted because their eclectic 'funk-hop' sound was just too foreign for my sheltered little ears to bear. however, i have since shed my armor and am certainly a better person for it. i once reluctantly embraced a band called 'the postal service' and now am more open to electronic pop music. i once reluctantly embraced a man called bob dylan and now am more open to folk music.
as i listen to what may be the coolest song ever, n.e.r.d.'s contagious 'anti-matter,' i feel that i am roaming one of the many moons of a distant planet i have heard so much about. planet hip-hop. i am not on the planet yet, but i can see it clearly. i feel its gravity pulling me in. we'll see whether the spaceship ever touches down.
august 2008
i'm working
on ten songs that i hope to put together in a collection
called 'the wrong impression.' i enjoy all of these songs and i
really hope you will too. one song's done, one's all but done,
the rest are in varying stages of completion. making songs is
kind of like having children. the creation is the easy part.
it's the fun part. the hard part is preparing them to go out
into the world.
if i play one hundred hours in a month it's likely to be 90%
writing, 5% fiddling around, 4% tuning compulsively, and maybe
1% recording. recording is really, really hard. especially when
you're learning on the fly. but that's the best way to learn. on
the fly.
so that's what's up. back to work...
august 2008
"...so do you think that's true?"
"hmm. interesting. i haven't heard that before."
faith, as you will find in the dictionary, is "belief that is
not based on proof," but don't take my word for it.
likely the most salient feature of faith is its almost
tyrannical projection of its own validity and positivity.
however, if one is to look for proof of just how positive faith
is, one would find -- as almost a logical necessity -- that it
cannot be good. it is worthy to note that to even embark upon
such an exercise necessarily requires one to have this belief,
or shall we say at least this suspicion.
belief that is not based on truth. such a concept literally
requires the mind to stop functioning. this is a dead end to
thought and reason. it implies a disavowment of the utility of
truth, and without truth nothing else can exits. no discussion
of any type can even take place without establishing the
importance of truth, or at least without the perfectly
sufficient implication of its importance. this is why it is
impossible to intelligently debate or discuss the legitimacy of
faith with one who posses it, for its most important intrinsic
characteristic -- that is, its own existence -- disallows any
avenue to where one may pursue such an effort. faith is like hiv,
it first destroys that which will destroy it, therefore ensuring
its own survival.
there's a great quote, “faith is like hiv.” i guess i won't
bother running for president ever.
maybe this is all a bunch of bullshit. maybe. it certainly
couldn't hurt to ask if it is. after all, any virtue strong
enough to be labeled as worthy or true aught to be able to
withstand any scrutiny or questions as to its worthiness or
truth. that is to say, the most substantive quality any paradigm
may display is to be, not just to seem. so, is that all
bullshit? is it bullshit to say that faith is bullshit? it shall
be our vocation now to examine a case study in faith.
i was a-thinkin' one day about something i had heard a long time
previous. i heard that the more you play a guitar, or any
acoustic instrument, the better it sounds. the reason for this
is supposed to be because the wood becomes conditioned to
vibrate at the specific frequencies of the notes it is exposed
to, and thus it becomes more reticent to vibrate at those
frequencies over time. understanding only that i understand very
little about acoustics and instruments and the like, i figured
this to be completely plausible. over the years i had heard
references to older guitars sounding better than newer ones, and
always associated it with the 'conditioned wood' idea.
as guitar playing and music in general became my favorite
pastime, i began to think of this and how perhaps one could
artificially augment the effect of time on an acoustic
instrument. i first thought of placing a small variable
frequency motor onto the body of my guitar and running it at all
the frequencies a guitar... uhh... feels. i asked my electronics
professor jim rogers, a walking talking stereotype of an
academic genius, about the matter. i first asked if he had heard
the fact that wood can be conditioned by noise, hoping to
circumvent a long explanation and get to my ultimate question as
to how to develop the motor. i asked. rogers froze momentarily,
then poked his head forward beyond the physical limits of any
human being, staring simultaneously blankly and adamantly at the
corner of his office. finally he whispered, "hmm, interesting."
oh christ, why the hell did i even bother walking into this
man's office? i totally should have seen this coming! anyway, he
said he had not heard of that fact, much to my surprise, and
gave me an answer to the motor question that was
less-than-satisfactory. you know, one of those "i don't want to
tell you but i'll lead you there and you can figure it out for
yourself so it'll be a good learning experience" kind of
answers. i did do some research and decided that a motor would
not be the way to go. onto plan b, a frequency oven.
the only thing i liked more than the frequency oven itself was
the name. "totally marketable, like kix!" said my pal stacey rae.
i still don't know what that means. anyway, the frequency oven
would be a box that would house the guitar and a small speaker.
the speaker would play pure (or perhaps not pure) frequencies
and the wood of the guitar would vibrate as it does when it is
being played. perfect. but the question is, should the sound
waves be pure sine waves or waves which would more resemble the
sound of an actual guitar note? onto resource #2, mr. fischer,
my instrumentation teacher.
i went into the fischtank (a term which i don't think he liked
so it's a bit of a plus) with a smile on my face. after all, i
wai on the brink of an invention that would revolutionize music
as we know it, turning new orchestras into vintage relics in a
matter of weeks. mr. fischer, attentive as always, was happy to
field my questions. as with dr. rogers and everyone else i had
told my idea to, i first attempted to bring him up to speed with
the principles of my reasoning by asking him if he knew that
wood can be conditioned by sound. or perhaps more like telling
him, "you're aware of this... right?!" but he wasn't!
furthermore he said he was a guitar player himself and still did
not know. what a dummy! but he was quite helpful, if not a bit
amused at my enthusiasm for the project, and answered all my
questions thereafter.
screw it, i'm building this thing. so i did. the frequency oven
was born sometime around the first of the year 2007 and received
a welcome into the world akin to jesus a couple millennia
before. no really, we had sheep and straw and old men and
everything. anyway, after finding a 440 hertz sine wave (note a)
and adapting it many times to cover every note possible, it was
time. so i threw in a not so often used axe and fired it up. it
was left in there for many weeks.
and so i went on my crusade. so many ignorant people around me
who seemed not to have heard of the fact upon which all my
efforts lay. my cousin lauren knows a lot about guitars and
wants to be a luthier, so i asked her. she thought it was an
interesting idea but was very skeptical. i really thought i had
her at one point but she was illusive. i told my dad about it.
he laughed. my mom asked me why i don't go outside much anymore.
my good buddy jenn said she would pay for the production of ten
thousand frequency ovens if it worked. i felt for a short time
-- i can't believe i'm saying this -- like i sort of understood
george w. and his messianic exuberance. not that i agreed with
him, but i knew what it was like to be the only one in the world
who can see what i think of as the truth, who knows that i'll
get the last laugh. i certainly didn't get the first or second
or third or tenth or twentieth laugh.
spring break time. like any wild and crazy college male i headed
straight for the beer and tits with plenty of beads in hand and
a "fuck authority" hat... okay, that's not quite true, i went to
cozy cloudy portland, oregon to visit my partner in
philosophical debating and nerd jokes, the delightfully pleasant
eliot morrison. not quite as crazy as the french quarter, i
grant you. and for the record, i do say "fuck authority" a lot
but it's more like a calculated utterance. you know, sort of a
"get 'em from within the system" approach. eliot was true to
form in his reception to my masterplan. bright-eyed and smiling
he gracefully assured me, "awesome! can't wait to see it work."
i envy that kind of optimism.
eliot went to work on tuesday and so i was left alone at his
place. time for the dylan record. there are few things, short of
actual material success as a friend's joke goes, as sweet as "mr.
tambourine man" filling the air amongst the scattered pops of an
old 45. after downing a bowl or two of almond honey bunches of
oats i got a bit bored and so went to the park to do some
reading and perhaps people watching for the sake of
embellishment with eliot later. i found a bench and placed
myself comfortably, however it was a bit warm so i took off my
scarf (it was a gift, okay?! i’m not gay, really. really!) and
jacket and buried my face into my book. a few pages in, the
breeze strong enough to keep my bare arms cool but considerate
enough not to turn my pages for me. as with most vacations, it
takes a few days for the revelation of 'how good things really
are' to sink in. this was the time. couldn't get much better.
"that's a nice scarf," said a distant voice unclear startling my
sleeping ears to hear that somebody thought they really found me
(dylan). the very pleasant and not at all unclear voice was that
of a nice looking girl of about 25 years. her voice freshly
lubricated by the strawberry ice cream nestled in her fingers.
come to think of it, it's not often that strawberry ice cream is
within my site and isn't at the top of my "things to lick" list.
laden atop list item number one was a very eye-catching green
t-shirt, paired with jeans that looked like they were tailored
just for her quite impressive physique. likely the most
impressive (i use that word in both its colloquial and literal
sense) aspect of this array of pleasing sights was an
understated smile and the kind of multidimensional blue-green
eyes that let you know there is a lot going on behind them.
"thanks." damn i'm smooth. "i have one like it but mine's blue.
where did you get it?" "i think every time in history that
question has been asked, the answer is it was a gift." and so we
talked. laura mccomb, a fine person to be sure. it's always nice
when hot chicks are cool. seems so rare. i suppose that's
because too few people are cool, and definitely too few chicks
are hot.
as if it were important, it should be noted that laura is not
only hot but very pretty. this distinction is one that is not
understood by most guys, as far as i can tell. i believe my
friend myles and i are the only ones who subscribe to this
school of thinking.
turns out laura has a masters (told you she was smart!) in some
kind of thing i didn't understand. most importantly though, she
was very interested in my frequency oven and had too heard of
guitars getting better with age. i explained the entire
principle, as i knew it to be, and the frequency oven to her.
damn i was proud of myself! laura's reply, delicate and
succinct, "that won't work man." what?!! "it doesn't work that
way. guitars to get a little better with age but that has to do
with the wood settling and becoming more supple. i've never
heard of wood becoming conditioned that way and i really think i
would have known about that if it was true.”
time to consider reality, i suppose. perhaps i was wrong all
along. perhaps the very idea which i had literally built upon
was flawed. why the hell did i not research it before? talk
about putting the cart before the horse. what a huge waste. a
huge letdown! i thought about it all that night and all the next
day, and came up with an answer i did not like. being a person
who has sincerely tried to put forth the most stringent logic to
everything i do and think, it confused and bothered me to
realize that my blinding propulsion in this case was, in fact,
faith. sure, this was only a little thing, a side-project, i
didn't put faith in a genocidal dictator or anything like that.
but still, what a hypocrite i am.
faith, it now seems to me, is unavoidable. i take it on faith
that the car next to me won't push me off the road, that my
drinking water has been properly sanitized, that there was not a
disgruntled kid at the trojan plant with a needle and a grudge.
faith is as necessary for a healthy mind as love or hope. sure,
christian scientists who denounce medicine while they watch
their children die of preventable illnesses, they certainly have
too much faith. as do the minions of the powerful who think
peaceful descent and disobedience are a waste of time, they have
too much faith. but it should be the duty of any intellectually
responsible person to reserve categorical judgment of such a
vast and nebulous quality of basic human consciousness.
so then, faith is like strawberry ice cream, we could all use a
little, but let's not overdo it.
august 2008
'the wrong impression'
january 2009
'the blue you'
'mad mystic hammering'
'yokel bumpkin's yodelin' pumpkins'
'nice girl'
'cool breeze'
'blue sky moon'
'too little too late?'
'what can i do?'
'crack the chain'
'don't wait for me'
"sonic landscapes for the superfly ear"
july 2008
i've finally got a plan! i can't tell you what it is yet, but it's there. i think it's a good plan, too. it's not too 'planny' either, you know? some plans are like, "oh god this guy's got some big planny plan" but this one doesn't even look like a plan at first glance. so i think that's good. but believe me, this is a really good non-planny plan that i think you will enjoy. not too sure exactly *how* it will be enjoyed, for any good plan always changes from gestation to fruition. in fact, i think that's the first criterion for a good plan: something that is guaranteed to change.
destiny, but no destination. and really, isn't that basically what everything should be?
june 2008
i just sat down to write something. i didn't know what. i just felt i needed to write. then i saw, george carlin died tonight. i cannot write about him right now because i know i would never stop. but i can't write about anything else because it would read like "i'm working on some new songs and... i really miss george." "check back soon for a remixed version of 'a world unknown' and... i love the baseball and football bit george carlin used to do."
i'll say only that george carlin was my all time favorite comedian and all time favorite philosopher. comedy and philosophy are two of the biggest facets of my life and so i can't begin to imagine how different my life would be if it were not for george. the wonderful thing about reminiscing someone like george is that the sadness cannot build up too much momentum. just the thought of his face and his voice and his words and his rhythm. all of a sudden i just tasted salt, my smile intercepted the path of a tear. that's not sappy pseudo-poetry. that actually did just happen.
i feel like i lost an old friend.
the report said it was heart failure, but i think i know what it really was:
"death can be caused by swallowing small amounts of saliva over a long period of time." (george carlin)
june 2008
many new songs of late. the nourishing womb of creativity is warm and comfortable but you never know when you're going to be pushed out.
'over the clouds'
'can't reach the sun'
'the sky is a kaleidoscope'
'over and over'
'someday'
'shaded sky'
'miles'
'shattuck'
'the revolution'
may 2008
ran into this today. this was taken last year by my beloved 'aunt' joan, whose name i lifted for the lyrics in the last post. it was kind of cold and there was thousands and thousands of dollars of photo equipment strewn about the alley we were in. it was 2am and a cop asked us if we had a permit. it truly was work(!!) to be the subject of this photoshoot. but we had fun. as i look at myself plucking away at my '62 fender jaguar, i can't help but think that with whatever tiny amount of ability i have in this life, it is more easily realized by the ear, than by the eye.
may 2008
go
down to ric's posto bella
you've got to find another fella
you'll find the man of your dreams there
that's what i wrote in the letter
to my friend joanie i've never met her
but we write our secrets to each other
mr. postman, handle this
one with care
i haven't heard from joanie in a while
but that's okay it's just her style
she's cool like a mona lisa smile
cool like the coos bay summer air
all my life
i've been trying to find someone like you
and it's a shame
that you're so far away from me
i close my eyes and try to see you
in my dreams why can't my
dreams come true?
guess i couldn't get joanie to fly out here
to go to posto bella so now i'll write
dear joanie where have you been?
and have you been thinking of me?
i'm starting to feel a little down
it's time to go and hit the town
maybe i'll swing by ric's posto bella
i'll feel better, i'll get a muffin and tea
so i sit down
and a beautiful girl she looks right up at me
i introduce myself
she says she's out to visit a friend
he doesn't know she's out here yet
she wants to surprise him and she sure did
she reached out her hand
and said "my name's joanie"
so i buy joanie a nice dinner
it's true that i have never been her man
but now i am and it feels
so good
'cause now i am forever
may 2008
this is something my good pal eliot morrison did for me. neither of us know what it is, or why it is. but we know we like it. hopefully you do too.
may 2008
next week will begin recording sessions for two very different projects. one song, "never over," should be posted above by the end of the month.
april 2008
i'm gunna take all my money
gunna wait 'til it gets sunny
might even call you honey
and we'll laugh at all the people here
gunna take all our possessions
and write all our confessions
and we'll laugh at their expressions
when we throw it all away
april 2008
