the word
december 2009
macy's santa claus
i'm no christian but i find that jesus cat to be super cool at worst.
i can't help but think that a 'walmart half-off christmas sale' represents something far less wholesome than the man whose name it has robbed and raped.
it seems often times that 'christian' and 'christmas' are categorical opposites of 'christlike'.
i don't think jc was down with homophobia or 4am kmart stampedes.
november 2009
hip hop overdubs
overdubs are small bits of audio added to a song after the song is tracked and just about ready to be mixed. examples of overdubs are vocal harmonies, supplementary instrumental accompaniments, or, in the case of much of the hip hop songs i've heard, a guy seemingly randomly yelling any, some, or all of the following phrases:
'yeah.. yeah..'
'wassup?!'
'yo!'
'sheeit!'
'what?!'
'nigga!'
'uhh!'
'daaaaamn!'
i just find it funny that a guy would have to drive down to a studio, go in the vocal booth, put headphones on, yell that stuff into a microphone, then go home. it would be so weird to hear just his track without the music.
'yeah, i really think jay-z yells 'wassup?!' better than nas. but nas's 'yo!' is fly as fuck! f'real i should sample that shit.'
october 2009
dear andy
october 2009
grounded
'let us not forget that peacocks strut because they cannot fly.' -cornel west
october 2009
my maudlin side
alcohol. how appropriate that it looks like water but stings like jet fuel.
10pm:
'okay, i'll have a few drinks with you guys.'
1am:
'lisssten maaaan. i fuckin' love you. no-- no-- no liiiisteeen. i'm being serious right now duuuuude. i fuckin' love you.'
a few years ago i had a debate with a friend about what, exactly, the effects of alcohol are on our brains and hearts. his claim was that it brings out some other person in you. mine was that it brings out --well-- you. the real you.
we debated for hours. then, naturally, we popped a brew. then two. then five. eventually it was just your normal college kid drunken bullshitting. i'm not sure we ever got to the bottom of it all but i remember hugging and crying and the drunkenly ubiquitous 'i love you' exchanged several times.
and you know what? i do love him. it would feel a bit too weird to say so now. but i do.
i think i was right in the debate. it brings out our true selves.
september 2009
sleeveless shirt guy
hey there sleeveless shirt guy
pick on somebody your own size, just one time
hey man with the lifted truck
i know you don't give a fuck, but you might just try
what up bro with the bleached hair?
i know i probably look like such a square, to you
your girlfriend is tall and thin
did i just hear her ask you what state nebraska is in?
well it doesn't even matter
even if she gets a little fatter
all that counts is that she's right for you
and that she'll always love your barbed wire tattoo
you play 'free bird' on the guitar
then you play 'free bird' on the guitar again 'cause that's all
you know how to play
the rebel flag is flyin' high
on your antenna oh my oh my I wish I was as cool as you are
how could someone be so self-conscious,
but not a shread of self-aware?
september 2009
out of balance
so then, without finishing my 'wrong impression' cd, or madmen's 'titanic blues' cd, without making anything of the fallen mighty or recording a single song with cliff edge sounds, without moving beyond the idea of east coast bias, i have decided i'm going to make a cd of songs called 'the bee's knees'. it should be very lo-fi i would have thought. and done in a couple weeks, i'm sure.
the bee's knees
o
ut very, very, soon
1. change of heart
2. my secret
3. those guys
4. somewhere
5. stupid struggles
6. who, what, where?
7. another name
8. new song
9. snowed in
10. mrs. white's day out
i see no reason this idea shouldn't come to fruition. do you?
'an artist has got to constantly be in the state of becoming.' -bob dylan
september 2009
start anew
sometimes you have to let go to see if there was anything worth holding on to.
september 2009
enter cliché here
to be a man of ideas is to be of a rare group.
to be a man of original ideas?
well, that's just... i don't know. is it ironic that i can't think of a word?
july 2009
'free market fundamentalism will undermine the very condition for the possibility of democracy because democracy is predicated on a vital public life. and you end up with a younger generation that believes that the market way of life is the human way of life, to be human is to be stimulated, titillated, rather than nourished. rather than deeply empowered. they believe that buying and selling and promoting and advertising are the fundamental ways of being in the world. learn how to package yourself, go to high school and college not in order to engage in paideia and cultivation of self and soul but to acquire a skill so you gain access to some dynamite job and life in some vanilla suburb. what an impoverished way of being in the world.' -cornel west
june 2009
new york city
i wish i was poetic and
articulate because there is plenty inside me i would like the
world to understand. right now most of it is choked off by my -
i don't know how else to say it - my absolute adoration for the
city of new york. it's more of a town. new york town.
anywhere else i've been i've breathed for the sake of not dying.
not too unique, i'd have thought.
in new york city, i breathe to live. the air there is alive. i
don't know if it's the humidity or what but i swear if you take
a 1am walk from west soho to the east village on a warm clear
june night you will most definitely arrive at this haiku. sort
of a modified haiku. a 'three then three' haiku.
'new york city
where it's at'
if you've never been,
not everybody is rude.
it's not all dirty.
it's not all crowded.
it's not all rough.
it's beautiful.
it's peaceful.
it's comforting.
it's frightening.
it's exciting.
it's dry.
it's wet.
it's surreal.
it's new york city.
june 2009
titanic blues
late 2009
1. boiling point
2. nearly forgotten
3. salvation army
4. on q
5. guest at my own funeral
6. the morning glow
7. welcome to the double cross church
8. short comings
9. torpedo
10. poor old jake is dying
11. closing time
may 2009
old habits,
die hard!
love, sean
it's the kind of thing that corrodes the soul. like loneliness
or commute traffic.
big words don't always translate to deep thoughts. but sometimes
it takes somebody saying something you don't quite understand
before it really sinks in. you've got to resist the comfort
zone.
the comfort zone is like a ten hour massage; it might feel right but it's too much of a good thing.
and there's rarely a happy ending.
april 2009
calling card
is to have loved and lost better than not to have loved at all? i don't know. i'd rather love and keep. can i do that?
the hipster paradox
it is impossible to try to look like you're not trying to look like something.
but if you don't try, it's easy.
what is happening???
i just listened to this song 17 times straight. what does it mean? what does it mean?!
april 2009
the wrong impression
august 11, 2009
1.
mad mystic hammering
2. the blue you
3. yokel bumpkin's yodelin' pumpkins
4. nice bird
5. cool breeze
6. blue sky moon
7. grainy opera
8. different colours
9. too little too late
10. don't wait for me
11. dream inside a dream
april 2009
talkin' patriotic blues
well, i was feelin' sad and feelin' blue,
i didn't know what in the world i was gonna do,
them terrorists they wus comin' around,
they wus in the air, they wus on the ground
they wouldn't gimme no peace!
so i ran down town, didn't go too far
put a 'support our troops' sticker on my car
i got me a terrorist-killin' membership card
and started off a-walkin' down the road
yee-haw, i'm a real american now!
look out you arabs!
now we all agree with hitler's views,
although he killed six million jews
it don't matter too much that he was a fascist,
at least he wasn't no islamic terrorist!
that's to say like if you got a cold you take a shot of malaria
well, i wus lookin' everywhere for them damned towel heads
i got up in the mornin' 'n' looked under my bed,
looked in the stove, behind the door,
looked in the glove compartment of my car.
couldn't find 'em!
i wus lookin' high an' low, behind the chair, for them
terrorists everywhere,
i looked way up my chimney hole,
i even looked deep inside my toilet bowl
they got away!
well, i wus sittin' home alone an' started to sweat,
figured they wus in my t.v. set.
peeked behind the picture frame,
got a shock from my feet, right up to my brain
them towel heads caused it!
i know they did... them hard-core ones
well, i quit my job so i could work alone,
then i changed my name to sherlock holmes
followed some clues and i threw a fit
i found some towels rolled up my linen closet
ohhhh no
well, i investigated all the books in the library,
ninety percent of 'em gotta be burned
i investigated all the people that i knowed,
ninety-eight percent of them gotta go
the other two percent are fellow patriots... just like me
now sean penn, he's an al-qaeda spy,
lincoln, jefferson, and that roosevelt guy
to my knowledge there's just one man
that's really a true american: bill o'reilly
i know for a fact he hates terrorists cus he boycotted france
well, i finally started thinkin' straight
when i run outa things to investigate
couldn't imagine doin' anything else,
so now i'm sittin' home investigatin' myself!
hope i don't find out anything... hmm, good god!
shout out: talkin' john birch paranoid blues
march 2009
'boomin' like a motherfucker'
'the hi-fi addict puts together his precision components--woofers, tweeters, pre-amplifiers, and stereophonic speakers--for their own sake. we are quite precise when we describe him as a devotee of hi-fi rather than of music.' -daniel boorstin
march 2009
sat question
after having joined facebook (i'll explain later) i've decided the following:
facebook is to myspace what dvd is to vhs.
don't put too much work into that profile, blu ray's coming!
'alas, nothing is more subject to losing value by going out of date than something that is valued solely for being up-to-date.' -howard kunstler
march 2009
break time
time for a break. i cannot tell a good song from an okay song. i just go through the motions. i can play a chord sequence that has worked before. i can pull out all the tricks. but it just isn't working.
an artist can give you all his paint and brushes and canvases, but can you create what he can create? no. and why? because the true value of his artistry is found within him, not the physical manifestation --the representation-- of his talents.
the tools never change. i may get a new guitar here or a cool pedal there, but it's all the same. there is so little variance of significance in the material world. the mind, however, is so fragile. inspiration is delicate, unpredictable, and fickle. i cannot go out and buy my way into a headspace. i must find it within myself.
and so, i will take a break from music. because i love my music too much to be forcing it. see you in a couple weeks.
february 2009
the thing
instead of going on facebook for the next month (i know, it
sounds like torture, right?) how about using all the time you
would have used to log on, but instead do that thing.
you know, that thing. that thing you've been wanting to do for a
long time but just kept finding excuses. you keep putting it
off. a week , a month, a year goes by.. but you keep telling
yourself, 'someday.'
how about today? how about this month? out with facebook and in
with the thing. one month from now you'll be neck deep in it and
when your friends want to know what you're doing, instead of
'checking your status' they'll actually have to call you or
--better yet!-- they might actually come over and when they do
they'll say, 'jesus christ you've been off facebook for a month!
are you okay? what the hell have you been doing?!' and at that time
you'll smile a satisfied smile and say, 'just, you know. some
things.'
february 2009
corporate rockers
by mark silverman,
here's a shout out to the corporate rockers
to the guys with big cocks 'n the girls with big knockers
here's a shout out to all the fast talk talkers
all the fast girls, and all of their stalkers
and here's a shout out to the corporate shills
to the drinkers 'n smokers 'n poppers of pills
those who snort coke through $100 bills
those with the textbook rock n' roll skills
well here's a shout out to the coprorate crooks
who steal all your money with lawyerly books
you sign their contract, they put in their hooks
and some people like how it looks
baby here's a shout out to the coporate stars
who spend lots of money in trendy new bars
and they drive very fast in their trendy new cars
they play the worst songs on the best guitars
and here's a shout out to the corporate whores
they make lots of money with music that bores
and they sell their cds in mega chain stores
spend their whole lives down on all fours
here's a shout out to the corporate rockers
with faces on posters and high school lockers
here's a shout out to all the chart toppers
all of their fans, and all of their mockers
february 2009
my favorite piece
this is a piece done by a longtime and very dear friend, chris renshaw. i love it.
january 2009
wrong impression news
mad mystic hammering
the blue you
yokel bumpkin's yodelin' pumpkins
nice bird
cool breeze
blue sky moon
grainy opera
(as yet untitled)
too little too late
don't wait for me
things are rapidly changing. new songs are coming to me that sound so much like they would fit the cd that i cannot help but include them. so, above is this minute's tracks. this pushes everything back, as i must now record these new tunes. but i'm still eyeing summertime to finish everything up and get these tunes out there. i think it will be worth the wait.
january 2009
groundhog day conversations, #2
'why don't you dance with us, sean?'
'i can't.'
'why?!'
'i'm lame and i can't dance.'
'you mean you're not good at it?'
'no. i can't do it. i literally can't.'
'but you make music!'
'not with my body.'
it's like an old fighter who just can't get off the jab. feel it in the mind, feel it in the heart. just can't pull it off. can't do it.
january 2009
mrs. white's day out
mrs. white closes the front door so gingerly
and faces the world outside
each porch step taken individually
to keep herself upright
she opens the wooden gate
its hinges rusted to the core
mrs. white insists it never be replaced
it was built when she was born
each careful step jars those tired bones
it just gets worse everyday
but the leaves are so pretty in this lovely city
she knows she can't complain
cars so fast and buildings so high
life was simpler way back when
summer days of chasing butterflies
lemonade that was heaven sent
she'll make a stop for a rest and some pie a la mode
it's been such a busy day
then
a boy scout helps her cross the road
it's a picturesque cliché
the sun's eclipsed by the popcorn clouds
hello night and goodbye day
the sky begins to come to life
the clouds cry as they turn gray
all the people on the street run into the closest shops
as if being wet brought some sort of pain
mrs. white spreads her arms, palms facing heaven
she feels so alive in the pouring rain
nightfall creeps up slowly on the evening sky
so mrs. white heads back home
to peruse a box full of black and whites
each a reminder that she's not alone
it's time for bed as the clocks strikes nine fifteen
she'll dream of the flowers and rain
she'll wake up tomorrow for a cup of tea
and to face the world again
word 2008