Bonnie and Clyde
Here’s a sneak peak at a few upcoming songs. Vocals are first takes. No “auto tune” or vocal comping, just raw and how I might sound on any given night. The drums and bass are hack jobs by yours truly. I want to re-record some of the guitars, for example, replace the chorus guitars in Bonnie and Clyde with the Gretsch Roc Jet given to me by Randy Kerkman (it sound glorious for this kind of stuff and thanks a thousand times Randy). And so on… But enough of that. Posting the “demo” will probably drive me to finish it, so I don’t have to explain.

Here it is:
Bonnie and Clyde demo

Giovanni Arnolfini

Tremble
And here’s another. Pretty much the same excuses, so I’ll hurry and finish it. The picture over there is of Giovanni di Nicolao Arnolfini. Amazing and beautiful.

Both demos fade after 60-90 seconds, but it gives you a glimpse into the next record. I’ve got close to twenty songs in similar states. Perhaps I’ll post more.

Here’s Tremble:
Tremble demo

Peace out…

Deela, Queen of Scalos wears her long strawberry blond hair high on her head. Her beautiful blues eyes are wrapped in thick long eyelashes. Deela is adorned in a silver and blue sheer gown that reveals her right arm and leg in their entirety.

Kirk sips from a cup on the bridge of the U.S.S. Enterprise, and suddenly finds himself standing in front of Deela. She explains her people were biochemically hyperaccelertaed due to volcanic radiation poisoning sometime early in the 21st century. The cup Kirk touched was contaminated, thus accelerating him to the same speed the Scalosians operate.

Kirk looks around the bridge. It appears his crew have turned to statues as they stand nearly motionless. The Captain realizes the crew are in fact alive, though at his accelerated rate, they simply appear near motionless. Back in unaccelerated time, his crew watch him vanish to be replaced with a mosquito like buzz in the room. Mr. Spock begins to analyze the buzzing and finds it to be the conversations of those in the hyperaccelerated state.

Analyzing Kirk’s coffee cup, McCoy discovers traces of radioactive water from Scalos in the beverage, and realizes it must have something to do with Kirk’s disappearance. McCoy and Spock use the Scalosian water to make an antidote that could reverse the acceleration effect. Armed with the antidote, Spock drinks some Scalosian water and hyperaccelerates himself to rescue the Captain.

Kirk then takes the antidote and returns to the normal speed of time. Spock however, remains accelerated a while longer and makes the necessary repairs to the ship’s vital systems at lightning-fast speed. Spock then returns the ship, along with himself, to normal. Then Mr. Spock says to Captain Kirk that he had an accelerating experience.

I am a Scalosian, buzzing around the immobile statues around me. I live in a place of never ending ideas and possibilities, constrained only by the number of minutes we are given in this life. I am happy here, perhaps alone, but my ideas and dreams make a better companion than a statue.

I have an appointment with a psychiatrist three days from now who will prescribe an antidote, reducing me to their lethargic state. I am doing it for them. If I take the antidote, can I return to this place? Can I return to Scalos? I don’t want to be slow down, I don’t want to die. I am terrified.

Wink of an Eye, Star Trek episode 68, was released in November of 1968.

I’ve got some twenty songs in front of me. Well, music actually. Many have lyrics, but most don’t serve purpose beyond demonstrating the melody. And now comes the hard part.

I’m not even sure how I feel. Just the internal struggle. Pushing. Pulling. Twisting. I sit and listen to the music. I allow myself distraction, wander to the front porch and watch the snow fall. It’s said that each flake is unique, each a universe to explore. But from a distance they all look the same. Maybe if I looked closer. Maybe like you and me. If I knew you, if I had the chance to listen, watch and understand. I’d see you as being unique. Different from anyone else. From the beginning to the end.

Finally the cold pushes me back inside. Some words come, but they are too personal to commit to paper. So I cloak them metaphor.

His name was Abraham Biggs. He was only 19. AP - Florida teen commits suicide in front of webcam

Abraham, I know what the darkness feels like. I know how it feels to wish a car accident would make the decision for you. I know what that utter, deafening and complete despair feels like.

Abe, if I had known you, I would have given you my understanding.

thanks for your time…

Over the last year I’ve watched a new breed of song writers move into cyber-space. These folks create sites like Calendar Songs and Song A Week writing to a schedule. I think it’s wonderful, in fact, it’s something I’ve considered doing. So recently I set aside a week to see what I could do. Well…

I managed to write about six partial songs. Reflecting on them a week later, I think a few of them would be better merged into single pieces, and a few aren’t worth further development. An interesting experiment. More on this later.

Forcing myself to write got me to thinking. Many years ago I was recording a band in Nashville. We were working nights in a studio on music row, which housed a country “song factory“ during the day. It was interesting to see a work environment, not unlike many small businesses in America, where the job was to write hit songs. You put the monthly targets up on the whiteboard. Workers spend the day developing goods for a target customer. Something about this didn’t sit well with me. I was young and idealistic. OK, maybe a little ignorant.

Sometimes I am overtaken with a piece of art, or music and imagine it was created purely out of passion. Money, if any involved, was an insignificant byproduct of the art, but never it’s motivation. It’s romantic isn’t it. To a large extent, the Strong Tower and World Theatre albums were written in this manner. But that doesn’t mean these works are any more important than songs written in a ”song factory“. Musicians need to eat and even Mozart and Beethoven wrote for money by way of commissions. So maybe it’s fine that many songs are written to sell into a market. Who am I to say?

In the end, it comes down to what you make of the piece. After all, the song writer won’t be there in person to explain what was meant in this or that lyric. We listen, look and interact with art as individuals from our own unique perspectives.

Sometimes we connect with a piece of art. Regardless of how the creation came to be, I think that is wonderful thing.

Completely out of the blue. What a surprise.

My blues band won the “Outstanding Achievement in Blues” category at the Portland Music Awards. I got a call from the the people at Music Spectator Magazine telling me we’d been nominated for the category and asking if we would perform a month before the event. Knowing some of the nominated artists in our category, I didn’t think we had a chance, but playing the event sounded fun. Here’s a pic from the night:

Art Alexakis from Everclear played an acoustic version of I will buy you a new life, my buddy Pierre and his band The Dimes played a tune. The Decemberists and The Kingsmen (Louie Louie) were also nominated for categories. There were a few Spinal Tap moments as the stage hands were using long poles to pull the stage curtains open for bands (a pole was dropped twice almost hitting performers). All in all, about 15 performances and I have to say it went surprisingly smooth.

Dan, who plays upright bass in the band, was bemused as usual by “music competitions”. He rolled his eyes and cried “this isn’t a football game, there aren’t winners and losers in music!” Anyway, we won the category and took home some nice crystal.

50% of manic depressives will attempt suicide sometime in their life. 90% end up divorced.

staggering…