I'm all about living to the fullest and within my means, creatively with style and distinction. Also total music and aficionado. Social networks are neat.
Joanna and I were invited to Kate Hudson's Sundance home in Utah.
... Totally last minute.
It was a Star Wars Theme party.
.. and although I wasn't finished with my tow truck shift I agreed and got my Han Solo on while she donned her Slave Liegh (of course).
It was elegant and white, sparkly and rich. Joanna knocked over the hukah and everyone laughed. Kate showed her her woredrobe and found her something to wear.
We got to smashed to drive so I had to have my tow truck towed.
We were the last guests to leave.
Joanna insisted we get our photo taken with C3PO
The photographer kept saying 200 year reign instead of cheese.
I grew up listening to Evol and Sister on cassette, my friend Steve Stone got Daydream Nation the day it was released on vinyl, in our dirty desert teenage years back in Yuma, brave men run.
I woke up about 20 minutes thinking about him.
Thurston will be playing the Goat Farm on February 8th, the event is already sold out.
He's lead an truly favored life.
I can think of no one else who has managed to keep a band together for over 25 years together, form a cult following that would eventually lead to having their Music sold in Starbucks and be married for over 25 years, travelling the world, not having to have a job besides making amazing art.
He's our version of a rock star.
What happened?
Same could be asked about Mel Gibson; isn't he from nowhere's ville Australia, made Mad Max next thing you know he's Braveheart with over 25 years of marriage.
I know something of this topic, not that I've had any success in anything comparable with this men, I too was married for over 10 years.
Scratch that, I can't even begin to relate.
But I'm a man.
In my studio, I get to hear V103 in the background at nearly all times. There are three Radio/Cell towers less than 100 meters from my space, the copper in my headphones and cables conducts their signal and wala, don't let me get in my zone, I'm riding around I'm spending it.
I heard a commercial last about some drug that can boast testosterone levels in men over 40, the ad went something like suffering from low sex drive, lack of motivation?
Aren't sex drive and motivation key factors in making men do what we do? Totally.
So after 25 years of a bond so great less than 1% of you reading this will ever experience, including me, why did these guys, why did Thurston break camp?
It does take two to tango, but in these situations, I'm sure it was the man who lead.
They wanted to feel alive again.
The last three years and pitchfork have made Thurston's fields of sonic love more relevant than anything before.
Between 96 and 05 most have been some lean years for Kim and Thurston. Their sound, it seemed was done.
Fortunately their DYI roots have thought them how to be comfortable with less.
The extravagances that most "rock stars" this couple didn't seem to have, or want.
They raised Coco, collected records, and enjoyed the freedom of relative obscurity.
Then, the unexpected happen - their sound caught on to the new kids.
In the mid-00's everything 80's came back. I seen the Adolescents at the Masquerade in 2005.
Except with Sonic Youth, the kids realized this was way more than an 80's band.
This was an artistic vision, this was a template.
Trees Outside the Academy was something a return for Thurston's solo work. Maybe this was also where he found that new motivation, that new burst of energy.
After passing out on French sparkly bubbly in the studio on early in 2012, I dreamt.
I was swimming, in the Caribean, following my son Arizona. I went underwater (I'm an excellent underwater swimmer), I kept passing legd and floats and all manner of beachlife.
I felt I was coming up to an edge, something was ahead and in the way, I kept bumping up against it to get past it.
I had been underwater for well longer than most longs can sustain but I wasn't concerned about oxygen or pressure-release, I wanted to get by.
I finally got the object out of my way, a mess of XLR cables and what appeared to be the base of a pulpit; even some astro-turf.
I came up and soldiers in dress greens knew my name, behind the pulpit was governor Zen Miller, even though I haven't ever met him, I could identify him.
I was recieving a standing ovation and my parents were their, only besides merely congratulating me, they were pressed to take me somewhere and show me something.
It was Monday.
They took me to a small storefront in the west coast, the kind that churches would use in the 80's.
It was standing room only, with a small stage in the front, a big movie screen and a projector were set up, the kind churches would use in the 80's.
A film with a great electronic score and my parents begain, it had amazing unheard of music, the video quality went from super 8 to HD, grainy to avatar.
I seen a side of my parents I didn't know existed, they were alive and animated, full of creativity and youthful energy.
There were parts were they were lip-syncing the synth parts, running from the Border Patrol, more that are hard to describe; breath-taking.
At the end, during the credits, I seen all the film award wreaths; I was in Cannes, and they were winners.
I was blown away. My dad turned his hearing aid down to minimize the feedback, with total swagger and confidence.
He said they shot and scored the entire thing themselves over the weekend, just for this festival.
My problems lately all have to do with a lack of resources, in particular cash (I'm sure we can all relate). I have more inspiration than I know what to do with,but my tools for creating (minus my Johnson) are all busted.
First thing I'd get would be a new computer.
$3,298.00 USD would get me a MacBook Pro 17-inch with the 2.3GHz Quad-core Intel Core i7, 8gb ram with a 128ssd; and Logic of course.
I'd then get the Tascam us-800. Nice, clean recordings, $249.99 USD
.... top it all of with a really nice synth.... Fro $2120 USD I'd get a Nord Wave, yess.
Let's go the math, see what I have left.
Still doing pretty good...
.....and combined with what I already have, I should be good for years to come (minus the computer of course and stuff breaking!)
The rest of the money, I'd just save, yeah today could be a great day.
There's must be a lottery in Heaven, and I'm not #winning.
I don't want to work a day in, day out job any more, but what can I do? My music is not providing an income that can sustain my very simple lifestyle.
This is a total wah post I know, but it's my post. It's real it's where I really am.
I watched #coachellalive over the weekend. Those musicans for the most part were not any more talented than I, in fact (Health) were not even on par with where I am.
Yet, they are there, touring, stage, no cublicle.
I am here.
I am grateful for what I have but (as usual) it's not what I want.
You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need.
Well I want more than what I need, I want my wants fullfilled.
I want to live on the coast in California, have a place in Brooklyn, lots of close, talented friends, send my children to good schools, have trust funds set up for them, an inheritance for my grandkids, be in love with a bueatiful young wonman and have her love me, surf, travel, give to others, invest in others, develop others and show others the way to God.
Instead, I grovel, and wait for my death. I develop vices, because after all, all my positive hard work has profited me nada.
This is my current state of health, may God bring me the life of my dreams or let me die in my sleep.
The things I've seen in the Friday March 4th, 2011 at about 10 am till Wednday the 11th just after 2am I would not wish on anyone.
The desparation, the legacy of street life, the degratation; a man with his face literally melted off, an 18yr kid with a bullet logged in his calf and the city of Atlanta correction faclity/Fulton County Jail giving him bandaids.
I was freaking out.
I had ran the mayson street stop sign in my Edgewood at a whopping 15mph and gotten a ticket but the officer found a a hold on me (a warrant) for an FTA (failure to appear) in Fulton County.
So into the backseat and then the prisioner transport I go. I was given mercy and allowed to call a friend to pick up the benz and take it back.
They ran his license ( holmes drumed in twitchism) - found it was suspended, yeah he could have gone down wit po po too.
I got to the station, somehow believing the officer that I would be out in a few hours. Nope. Upstairs I go. I'm bunked with a few homeless guys, an 18yr kid who just jay-walked 3 days ago, been here since, and coldness of the guards who don't know and just didn't give a dang.
I found a Holy Bible. I mediated on it day and night. I found passages like
9 The LORD is a refuge for the oppressed,
a stronghold in times of trouble.
10 Those who know your name trust in you, for you, LORD, have never forsaken those who seek you.
- Psalms 9
I found God. I no longer questioned why I was here. I dropped my pride and saw the humanity, the suffering. I reached out to these people. I realized all my complaining about my job and the good life I had was so wrong.
I felt shame for the state of mind I had cultivated before I found myself here. I vowed to change.
I became a light in the darkness of the jails. I treated the guards with respect. I warned the gangsta's in the holding cells with me to quit hustling if they weren't loving jail. Some of them were just there the night before.
I though my girl had left my side, but I realized, yet again I was wrong about her. She did have my back. I'm home, showered, clean and in my right mind because of the amazing power of God exhibited in his word and freely available to any who would believe and turn from thier ways.
I'm not perfect but I will live the vows I made crying for mercy in my cell. I got the wake up call.
Of course, you may not have such an experience. I hope you don't but I do encourage you to open the Gospel of John for yourself. See if you don't get the same out of body sense of hope and exhilaration I do.
As both a music fan and a critic, I’m naturally of two minds on this question. As a fan, I have gut reactions like anybody else, and I’m just as liable to shoot my mouth off on an artist I might have only given a moment’s notice. The proliferation of social media didn’t invent this kind of casual acceptance or dismissal—it merely allowed people to broadcast it to whoever might be paying attention. So, while it might annoy me as a Radiohead fan when somebody “mehs” The King Of Limbs after only playing it once, I recognize that I do this all the time with artists plenty of other people take seriously. Likewise, I’ve enthused about an album on Twitter after only hearing a couple of songs, only to demur a week or so later after several more listens.
Your opinions as a music fan tend to be instinctual and emotional—in contrast to the self-conscious, intellectual aesthetics of the critic—and you’re under no obligations to justify them beyond your own whims. Besides, there’s a lot of music out there; it can seem like a chore to spend extra time with something that seems unappealing at first contact when there are so many other choices. But one of the many great things about being a music fan is that you have an open invitation to revisit any artist whenever you feel like it; somebody that didn’t strike your fancy today might end up being a new obsession a year from now.
Gut reactions only become a problem when people convince themselves that a cursory listen renders any further investigation moot. This is especially fatal for an album like The King Of Limbs, a purposefully difficult listen that takes time to ingratiate itself. The rewards are considerable for patient listeners, but there are more obstacles than ever preventing listeners from engaging with the sorts of “grower” records that Radiohead has banked its career on. This includes (I fear) the echo-chamber of social media, a forum better suited for glibness than thoughtfulness, where directing a tossed-off zinger at a popular institution like Radiohead is considered fresher and funnier than singing the same old praises.
I like most of that. First paragraph is dead on.
Second one two.
Third one, yep on again.
What can I add to that? Why reinvent the wheel? Which music journalist, hasn't tread this ground?
I have personal feelings about this topic, has I too work hard at presenting content, music, and watch it flickr and fade in the social networks.
It doesn't bother me much, I didn't start sharing my music online till 2008, so this is the norm for me.
My girlfriend doesn't listen to her ipod much in her jetta, (TuneCast isn't really that great) so she listens to mix CDR's I've made for her.
This is where she "gets music" - essentially "getting it" is mental process, a by product of repetitious playback.
She "got" grass-window, Vega and merriweather post via cdr's I made for her yr ago.
Baby Noah and her "get" roleATL by hearing constant playback and edits,
coming from the studio they live above.
... as mentioned in the tweets earlier, music and repetition bond into experiences and secret into conscienousness much differently than the unmentioned archaic standards most of these types of posts fail to mention; the old standard of buying and listening to one album.
We're all multitaskers now, constantly searching new content, sharing new content, so the "iTunes generation" is all reading this (and yes I have vinyl).
Conclusion:
"getting" an album hasn't changed since learning hasn't changed, it's all realitive to the minds and ears of the listener and will in most cases involve repitition but in certain cases, (such as Lotus Flower), it can be in an instant for many - those are known as "hits."
I gotta tell you about this dream I had, during the early REM of this morning.
I dreamnt I was in a white volvo, in possesion of a special device, a pedal sort of like the ones in the images embedded in this post (but not the same one, don't get any endorsement ideas, unless you want me to "try it out").
It was pre-dawn and the windows were foggy, there was 3cm layer of snow glistening on the group. Parked next to us were Soviet-era Russian goons in a brown 60's era dodge van (like the mystery van but golden brown).
I was in possession of a device that port like one above, you could plug into a PA and stream music thru it and it would modulate whatever you were playing into a sound comforting to the listener, based on a telephathic algorithim discovered by NASA on new planets.
After they left, I walked up to brick brownstown style steps where these kids were smoking cigarettes and streaming dub thru a Marshall lead 12. My greatgrandmother was there, she's currently alive and in her 90's; living in Arizona.
I plugged the device in and got an instant shock and awe from the youth. They were caribean kids, straight from the islands, living in brooklyn.
My grandmother's eyes, blue but slowly turning white thru the years were alerted. She had not ever heard such music, music-music.
I played the device in her hands and held her fingers, showing her how to modulate the sound. She gingerly moved the knob and the sound was dramatically sweeping and harp-like.
I then understood that it would morph the sounds of the users most joyous memories.
She wept.
Meanwhile the youth, to them it was still a new strand of dub. They were frantically bootlegging using the blue mic app on thier iphones.
I then looked up and I was in a huge tent, with thousands of my people; it was multi-family gathering and there were caterers hustling about to the the 13 different food station serving the finest delicacies, I had not made a plate so I made a plate of salmon and avacado and a fajita fresh rib-eye, as well as sushi made by chefs from Tokyo.
The pedal was still modulating at once harmonious and also intimate and reflective for each table.
For the young folks, it was loud and fast,they could barely hear themselves as they smoked and drank. For the children it nurssery and innocent. For the old it was nastaligic, sentimental and quiet.
Chris Higham ambled along like a medicated genius heading for the desert trays.
