The Price Of Meat Has Just Gone Up, And Your Old Lady Has Just Gone Down
03.24.06 (8:18 pm) [edit]1.) I had a nice talk with the supervisor at work today. Very cool guy. He was asking about my teaching job and my weekend, and was shocked that I'm doing all this shit at oonce, and driving 45 minutes up there to work. "Well, I'm thinking about how long I'll do it. I wanted to give it a full work-week and see what I thought." Which is bullshit, I KNEW I'd do it two weeks and get out. I'm handing my notice in Monday and leaving Thursday. But I'm not telling him that. I like this temp thing sometimes. Not often. But sometimes.
2.) Goddamn, I love Frank Zappa. The entire You Can't Do That Onstage Anymore series (over 13 hours of the finest optional audio entertainment known to man) has lit up my life like a fuckin' Debbie Boone song this week. A WONDERFUL workout for the lower part of my vocal range, singing along with the Frankmeister, his outrageously adept use of words filling my little black heart with mirth. An even more wonderful source of inspiration to make me grab my gee-tar and play. Bazillions of things to love crammed into all 12 discs. Nearly all eras of his music (though leaned heavily into certain places and ignoring a couple others, but I've got no real substantial problem with that), chock full of killer playing, incredible tunes, and the kind of lyrical ebullience.that makes me think, feel, and laugh my ass off. Nasty grinding guitar heaven. Unspeakable drumming. Bass playing of the gods. (SCOTT FUCKING THUNES!!!) Ike WIllis hi-ho-ing Silver away. Isn't that amazing? Tell 'em what they win, Bob. A whole battery of chewy keyboard delights. L. Shankar in 13. Terry Bozzio hitting his hands with a hammer followed by a beautifully subdued version of Zoot Allures that makes my pants drip. Sophia Warren on guitar. Weird yet interesting edits. Tunes found nowhere else. Tunes you've heard a dozen versions of. The goddamn motherfucking hellbastard fucking motherfucker of a Mammy Anthem. I want a garden! Whipping floss! Mattie told Hattie! Bloooooow-job! They're serving burgers in the back! I'm in you!
You Can't Do That Onstage Anymore. A big-ass fuckin' testament to the friggin' genius of one of the most important people in my life. Even 12 years after his death, there's little things and big things alike sprinkled through his catalog to bring a tear to my eye wishing he was still with us. A hell of a lot of them are on this collection. Goddamn, I love Frank Zappa.
3.) A bit calmer on the poon-craving front today. But not by much. That little barely-legal vixen could destroy my mind with one simple email.
4.) So why is it that the one woman alive who shows true interest in me, who I think might just be able to fulfill four or five of my dirty little fantasies, is half my age and half a continent away? Fuck, why worry? Save yer pennies, motherfucker.
5.) Gig tomorrow night. Think I'll call A and see if she can come. I'm planning on working up a few tunes tonight and doing stuff I've not done before in my solo spot. Not sure which ones yet. But I was singing Lawyers, Guns, And Money in my head today, and I need a Zevon fix.
6.) I think I need a "love gig." I like this band a lot, I love the singer and guitarist like brothers. But it's still got a lot to do with money. If I do this wedding thing I'm thinking about, it will be TOTALLY about money. It sure as fuck won't be about playing Wonderful Tonight, for fuck's sake. My potential solo thing is much more personal and fulfilling, but I'm going to keep it close enough to accessibility to still make money. The thing with Dennis was leaned towards music, but still partially about money. Though he moved away and we never made any.
It's been a while, but I used to do a low-rent Robert Fripp thing, running my bass through a variety of effects into a "soundscapes" thing I used to do in my solo act when I was playing coffeeshops several years ago. I'll do some in the new solo thing, but I doubt I can get away with much of it.
What I'd like to do is get this thing working again (if I pulled this stuff out now, it would probably suck, and I need a while to re-develop the thing) and look into playing in museums and libraries. You can do shit like that there. The odds of money being made are remote, but I don't care. I need to do something that represents that end of my musical personality. If I can get decent recordings (the few I have now are barely worth listening to), maybe I can sell CDs when I do it. But mostly I want to stand there and sculpt air into shapes not experienced before. It'll be almost totally improvised, and explore my harmonic ideas, since it's kinda hard to work augmented 11ths into Jerry Lee Lewis songs with the band. Five people will care. Fuck it. It needs to be done.
7. there is no seventh thing.
Ahhh, I'll write more later. i've got a six of Honey Brown and a stack of tunes to work on with my gee-tar. You fuckers be well.
Love,
Dougie