Violets and White...

Just been freakin' out for the past few days with psychedelic pop. It has been a strange week of German films, listening to so called Krautrock (Nue! and Kraftwerk) and the 60's band The Zombies. Sooo...ummm...I wrote this song, I had Matt Lynott throw down some old-school-one-microphone-drums and I forced Greg Friedman at gunpoint to come over and play bass. I could've done it myself, but it is more fun forcing your friends to play with you rather than complete masturbation with oneself.

I don't know what to think of the song, maybe that is a good thing, or?

Violets and White

Silver saucers of space echo omnipresent circles in the chrome high sky
Lips are like fists for the sexual transmitted knowlege of you and I

I'll be giving you viloets and white, whispering
I'll be giving you violets and white to change your mind

Realizing that I simply know nothing is a wonderful place to be
Skin of steely milk, for your air-conditioned silk is so honey-sucking chic

 I'll be giving you viloets and white, pistol-whipping
I'll be giving you violets and white to change your mind

Don't you see the stars? The stars will fall for us. You see, the stars,
The stars will fall for us. For us. 

Don't Shoot The Antenna...

Here is the before mentioned tune I hurriedly wrote before Matt Lynott and Sean Davenport came over last week, so we'd have something to goof around on. It came out so fast I don't know what to think about it. When you feel like an antenna rather than the creator, you don't feel too much like talking about it, just rather...here it is.

Reconciled To Be Up For A While...

I love French Taoist. I mean Finch Toast. You know what I mean. I know what I mean. With Cap'n Crunch. I will have no roof of my mouth afterwords, afterwards. That is the price you pay for sicking the dogs on the Sand Man. "Stay away Sand Man with you and your sandbag full of sand stuff that sands my eye leaks!" My dog thinks it's tasty, but it can be very embarrassing going to the store with crusty eyes. The checkout counter woman looks on with empathy. "Poor crusty customer...someone or no one let you leave your house looking like that...either way that is damn shame. On with you, you poor cretin, take your bacon, water, and eggs and leave in peace..." I am sure she said something like that.

It's its...

Sublingual La-La...

Monday was a very nice day. Matt Lynott from my old band the Truckee Brothers, his current band the White Buffalo and Sean Davenport from Hills Like Elephants came over to freak out with noise makers and noise capturers. Knowing this ahead of time, I wrote a song the day before so we would have something to play doctor with. Show me yours and I will show you mine...musically speaking that is.

No matter how many years I keep doing this, the mystery and magic of the creation of a song is still awe-inspiring. I am the creator? Or am I the antenna? Both I think. As in everything, the answer is always "both".

Working with my talented friends was so fucking fun. I can say "fucking" on my own blog can't I? Yes. Fucking fun. We all met for coffee at noon, and by 9pm, including the trip to the Irish Pub, we were finished. Matt on all things drummy, Sean on all thing keyboardy, and myself juggling the rest, we finished a good song. This is why we started doing this in the first place. Way, way before the "doing it for a living" thing shadowed its way onto us. Making something from nothing. Conjurers from the long lost sect of making for making's sake. Hmmm....rambling...stop.

I thought about sharing the song, then I thought about not. Whenever I finish my album, I want at least some songs to not have been heard before the release. A surprise. Making the album not old already for before it comes out. Am I wrong on this? If so, please leave a comment as to why you think I should let it out early. Of course, having only probably 5 people actually reading this blog, I doubt if there will much of a influx of commentary...but 5 or 5000 is no matter, it is the connection that matters.

Exhausted now. It costs to create. I feel like I swam a mile. Mind swimming. I need a towel for my Cerebellum and sunglasses for my Basal Ganglia...