Yes, that's right. I'm moving.
To
for now! www.nicholastozier.com will eventually go live; until then I have the new blog listed above.
Thanks for reading; see you on the other side!
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
The busy season is here! I'm composing some dangerous, James Bond-styled musical interludes for R & B Dance Company, managing the cafe, taking twenty-mile bike rides, playing sporadic gigs, and working on this Fall/Winter's two planned album releases (funds permitting, samples available on request). One is very composed and abstract; the other is very accessible, just a resonator guitar and my lungs and one microphone.
More, in detail, soon.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Monday, July 28, 2009, 0100hrs.
It’s past midnight and I’m overstimulated. I spent the morning at www.tedgreene.com; it motivated me to get out my battered copy of Chord Chemistry and start developing a plan of attack on this mysterious beauty we call music. For a while now I’ve been doing much more listening than playing; records have stolen all of my money and most of my time. All day today I studied and practiced; now I’m feeling worn out and restless. But I scribbled down a long list of short– and long–term goals for myself, and I’ll be back at it tomorrow. I’ve never been a person to organize my life with lists, but lately I’m finding them useful. They help me focus.
I’ve been loving The Best of the Blue Note Years, a basic collection of Thelonious Monk’s oblique compositions and improvisations. I’ve also been grooving on Bitches Brew and Big Fun, both by Miles Davis. Then we’ve got Song of Songs from classical vocalists Stile Antico… songs of God that could lay an army down. Also Pieces of Africa from Kronos Quartet. It sounds like African choruses arranged for strings and percussion, but I haven't done my homework on that yet.
My favorite recording lately has been “Transblucency” from Duke Ellington. It’s an impressionistic piece with an eerie theremin-like nonverbal vocal melody. The tune's supposed to evoke “a blue fog you can almost see through.” The clarinet plays counterpoint and Ellington adds percussive piano splashes here and there, grounding the otherwise ethereal textures.
I’d like to gush about many more albums and recordings here, but I’ll spare you for now. Suffice to say that when I listen to music, that’s all I do. I sit and listen. And there is no shortage of richness or nuance in the musical wild.
Last week I went down hard on the granite doorstep of a dress shop downtown while serving a former Miss Maine her coffee. I landed totally prone: half on the step, half in a puddle, wearing it all with sugar and cream. Got some big complex bruises out of that one (still wearing it on my thigh, right below my ass) and fucked up my elbow temporarily. Ms. Maine tried hard not to laugh, but you know how it is when somebody pulls an impromptu Buster Keaton act at your front door.
I’ve managed somehow to satisfy my own work ethic tonight. I sit here at a loss: I’ve practiced, I’ve written, I’ve read, I’ve listened to some great recordings, I’ve eaten more fruit salsa than the body is meant to take in one sitting. I suppose it’s time to turn in. Goodnight and thanks for reading this.
It’s past midnight and I’m overstimulated. I spent the morning at www.tedgreene.com; it motivated me to get out my battered copy of Chord Chemistry and start developing a plan of attack on this mysterious beauty we call music. For a while now I’ve been doing much more listening than playing; records have stolen all of my money and most of my time. All day today I studied and practiced; now I’m feeling worn out and restless. But I scribbled down a long list of short– and long–term goals for myself, and I’ll be back at it tomorrow. I’ve never been a person to organize my life with lists, but lately I’m finding them useful. They help me focus.
I’ve been loving The Best of the Blue Note Years, a basic collection of Thelonious Monk’s oblique compositions and improvisations. I’ve also been grooving on Bitches Brew and Big Fun, both by Miles Davis. Then we’ve got Song of Songs from classical vocalists Stile Antico… songs of God that could lay an army down. Also Pieces of Africa from Kronos Quartet. It sounds like African choruses arranged for strings and percussion, but I haven't done my homework on that yet.
My favorite recording lately has been “Transblucency” from Duke Ellington. It’s an impressionistic piece with an eerie theremin-like nonverbal vocal melody. The tune's supposed to evoke “a blue fog you can almost see through.” The clarinet plays counterpoint and Ellington adds percussive piano splashes here and there, grounding the otherwise ethereal textures.
I’d like to gush about many more albums and recordings here, but I’ll spare you for now. Suffice to say that when I listen to music, that’s all I do. I sit and listen. And there is no shortage of richness or nuance in the musical wild.
Last week I went down hard on the granite doorstep of a dress shop downtown while serving a former Miss Maine her coffee. I landed totally prone: half on the step, half in a puddle, wearing it all with sugar and cream. Got some big complex bruises out of that one (still wearing it on my thigh, right below my ass) and fucked up my elbow temporarily. Ms. Maine tried hard not to laugh, but you know how it is when somebody pulls an impromptu Buster Keaton act at your front door.
I’ve managed somehow to satisfy my own work ethic tonight. I sit here at a loss: I’ve practiced, I’ve written, I’ve read, I’ve listened to some great recordings, I’ve eaten more fruit salsa than the body is meant to take in one sitting. I suppose it’s time to turn in. Goodnight and thanks for reading this.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Sunday, July 05, 2009, 1917hrs.
Today is the first sunny day I’ve seen for five weeks here, so I’m going to get back into it momentarily. I just ran, so I’m soaked and feeling great. A cell phone alarm was supposed to alert me when I’d run my usual allotment, but apparently I had been squeezing the “Snooze” button between my leg and body because I didn’t notice it ringing until the third time it buzzed. That means I ran fifteen minutes longer than originally planned. Not a bad mistake.
As much as my body loves to run, I have a hard time focusing my mind out there. I don’t have any portable music devices or anything, so there’s really nothing to do while I circle the park. When boredom tempts me to go home early, I distract myself with romantic thoughts instead. That probably sounds funny if you know me personally, but that’s how I refocus. I think: “If you get involved with somebody, Tozier, your body is half hers. Wouldn’t you both want your body to be healthy and mean?” This is also how I talk myself out of skipping workouts. You would laugh if you saw me in my apartment, red-faced and growling obscenities toward the end of each set of reps, with my little playlist of love ballads piping through the stereo in the background.
I’ve still got a full day and a half off from the cafe, so I’ll probably finish writing a few songs during that time. I plan to release this first album as a handmade CD with handmade packaging. Lots of labor involved.
I need to get out in the sun before it goes down. My body’s still humming happily from what I just put it through. After dusk I’ll pound some coffee down, get wired, and get back to work. I’ve spent a combined total of ten hours at the typewriter and the guitar since last night, and tonight is young. I have the new Meat Puppets album, but I'm feeling a little lost because I finished my last taped Borges lecture last night. Maybe I'll just start the whole series over again.
Very soon my daily entries will shift toward describing the still-unnamed CD and its construction. If you're a regular reader, I promise that you will grow rapidly sick of hearing about it.
Gotta get outside now--sun is setting. Take care of yourself! Thanks for reading.
Today is the first sunny day I’ve seen for five weeks here, so I’m going to get back into it momentarily. I just ran, so I’m soaked and feeling great. A cell phone alarm was supposed to alert me when I’d run my usual allotment, but apparently I had been squeezing the “Snooze” button between my leg and body because I didn’t notice it ringing until the third time it buzzed. That means I ran fifteen minutes longer than originally planned. Not a bad mistake.
As much as my body loves to run, I have a hard time focusing my mind out there. I don’t have any portable music devices or anything, so there’s really nothing to do while I circle the park. When boredom tempts me to go home early, I distract myself with romantic thoughts instead. That probably sounds funny if you know me personally, but that’s how I refocus. I think: “If you get involved with somebody, Tozier, your body is half hers. Wouldn’t you both want your body to be healthy and mean?” This is also how I talk myself out of skipping workouts. You would laugh if you saw me in my apartment, red-faced and growling obscenities toward the end of each set of reps, with my little playlist of love ballads piping through the stereo in the background.
I’ve still got a full day and a half off from the cafe, so I’ll probably finish writing a few songs during that time. I plan to release this first album as a handmade CD with handmade packaging. Lots of labor involved.
I need to get out in the sun before it goes down. My body’s still humming happily from what I just put it through. After dusk I’ll pound some coffee down, get wired, and get back to work. I’ve spent a combined total of ten hours at the typewriter and the guitar since last night, and tonight is young. I have the new Meat Puppets album, but I'm feeling a little lost because I finished my last taped Borges lecture last night. Maybe I'll just start the whole series over again.
Very soon my daily entries will shift toward describing the still-unnamed CD and its construction. If you're a regular reader, I promise that you will grow rapidly sick of hearing about it.
Gotta get outside now--sun is setting. Take care of yourself! Thanks for reading.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Just Another Work Day.
July 4th, 2009. 1733hrs. --- Got up early this morning to prepare a catering order, then worked a crazy lunch shift all by my lonesome at the cafe. I was the entire operation; clerk, server, cook, everything. It was wild. Five hours of sleep wasn't enough, but the caffeine supply is looking good.
My first CD of original songs and compositions is almost done. Some of you will receive copies by mail or by hand very soon. I'm looking forward to getting feedback. It'll also feel good to prove that I haven't been slacking on all those nights that I've turned down social outings: "Here ya go, everyone. I wasn't exactly partying without you." My beard is entirely a product of pulling double shifts and trying to wrap this CD up. After that I've just got four more recording projects to finish. Jesus Christ.
A novelist I admire very much, Cheryl Drake-Harris, has offered to mentor me on the craft. She has recently landed back in the states after a lengthy stay in Mexico, during which I missed her very much. You can check out her book Lily's Ghost, published by Random House, by picking it up in a major bookstore or visiting Amazon.
The "novel" I was working on is in need of serious work and will most likely be distilled into short-story length. The good news is that I'm free to write whatever I want after that.
Recently wrote to Henry Rollins, received a thoughtful and prompt response. Surprised, impressed, and even a little starstruck by that; I'm a big fan of his "spoken word" CDs.
Satisfyingly sore after yesterday's workout. I love that feeling.
Got quite an eclectic mix going: some Marvin Gaye, David Bowie, Judith Owen, Black Flag, The Birthday Party, Dinosaur Jr., some Paraguayan harp music, even a little Pete Seeger. I'm about to lock myself in my apartment for the next three days with that stack of records, Kafka's complete short works, espresso aplenty, a freezer full of vegetables and salmon... and of course many cans of beans. I must go now. My desk awaits. Thanks for reading this.
My first CD of original songs and compositions is almost done. Some of you will receive copies by mail or by hand very soon. I'm looking forward to getting feedback. It'll also feel good to prove that I haven't been slacking on all those nights that I've turned down social outings: "Here ya go, everyone. I wasn't exactly partying without you." My beard is entirely a product of pulling double shifts and trying to wrap this CD up. After that I've just got four more recording projects to finish. Jesus Christ.
A novelist I admire very much, Cheryl Drake-Harris, has offered to mentor me on the craft. She has recently landed back in the states after a lengthy stay in Mexico, during which I missed her very much. You can check out her book Lily's Ghost, published by Random House, by picking it up in a major bookstore or visiting Amazon.
The "novel" I was working on is in need of serious work and will most likely be distilled into short-story length. The good news is that I'm free to write whatever I want after that.
Recently wrote to Henry Rollins, received a thoughtful and prompt response. Surprised, impressed, and even a little starstruck by that; I'm a big fan of his "spoken word" CDs.
Satisfyingly sore after yesterday's workout. I love that feeling.
Got quite an eclectic mix going: some Marvin Gaye, David Bowie, Judith Owen, Black Flag, The Birthday Party, Dinosaur Jr., some Paraguayan harp music, even a little Pete Seeger. I'm about to lock myself in my apartment for the next three days with that stack of records, Kafka's complete short works, espresso aplenty, a freezer full of vegetables and salmon... and of course many cans of beans. I must go now. My desk awaits. Thanks for reading this.
Monday, May 25, 2009
The Price is Right
May 25, 2009 11:56hrs. --- I'm at my folks's place in Jefferson, so I have momentary access to a television. “The Price is Right” came on at eleven o' clock in the morning, making this the first time in years that I've seen the show. In my fuzzy, croaking, just-out-of-bed brain state I found the show completely undignified and repulsive. The Price is Right is a depressing microcosm of a too-large portion of most Americans' lives. All that tacky glitter, the flashing light bulbs, the stylized games... it's like an ugly retail labyrinth in which everyone is hopelessly, hopelessly ecstatic to be wasting their time.
Would I try to guess the prices of six grocery items for a chance to win sixteen grand? Sure. But why does everybody soil themselves jumping up and down when selected as a contender? Are we really that excited about being on-camera and having a chance to win a billiards table? Come now.
Would I try to guess the prices of six grocery items for a chance to win sixteen grand? Sure. But why does everybody soil themselves jumping up and down when selected as a contender? Are we really that excited about being on-camera and having a chance to win a billiards table? Come now.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
May 24, 2009. 2315 hrs. --- Today was a frenetic day at the corner cafe; if you were there this afternoon you already know that. I enjoyed the frantic pace.
Less than an hour after getting out, I played at The Mad Dog for two hours. If anyone present there is reading this now, thanks for hanging out and making it such a great time. Look for me on the streets and at the Gardiner Farmers' Market next week!
After The Mad Dog I finally managed to reach Nicole via telephone. It's always great to hear that voice. We talked for almost an hour; at one point she cheered me on for my recent vegetarianism, cardio, and lifting routines. After we said goodbye I sallied forth to hit up the grocery store for heaps of vegetables and smoked salmon, and as soon as I'm done writing this I will eat with barbaric gusto, knowing that my friend the beguiling nurse approves. I'm beginning to feel some power in my body, and I'm enjoying it very much. Can't wait to lift again.
Spinning Dinosaur Jr.'s "Without a Sound" at the moment. I've got to add some of these songs to my songbook.
Been studying Jason Martineau's The Elements of Music and taking intense notes. It's a beautifully succinct, intense little book with surprising reach; it even serves as a springboard into linguistics as they relate to songwriting and composition.
Currently reading Chambers's weird classic The King in Yellow. It is free on Project Gutenberg, so you can easily check it out if your eyeballs can handle reading on a computer screen. The stories are of mixed quality, but I found the better ones quite satisfying. You will especially enjoy them, I think, if you have read and enjoyed the 1920's American horror writer H.P. Lovecraft. Chambers was one of Lovecraft's inspirations and several themes common to Lovecraft are present in The King in Yellow: forbidden books that wear away the sanity of their readership, for example.
There is more to say, but I am too hungry to say it. Thanks for reading this. See you on the streets, in my e-mail, on the commons, or in my mailbox.
Less than an hour after getting out, I played at The Mad Dog for two hours. If anyone present there is reading this now, thanks for hanging out and making it such a great time. Look for me on the streets and at the Gardiner Farmers' Market next week!
After The Mad Dog I finally managed to reach Nicole via telephone. It's always great to hear that voice. We talked for almost an hour; at one point she cheered me on for my recent vegetarianism, cardio, and lifting routines. After we said goodbye I sallied forth to hit up the grocery store for heaps of vegetables and smoked salmon, and as soon as I'm done writing this I will eat with barbaric gusto, knowing that my friend the beguiling nurse approves. I'm beginning to feel some power in my body, and I'm enjoying it very much. Can't wait to lift again.
Spinning Dinosaur Jr.'s "Without a Sound" at the moment. I've got to add some of these songs to my songbook.
Been studying Jason Martineau's The Elements of Music and taking intense notes. It's a beautifully succinct, intense little book with surprising reach; it even serves as a springboard into linguistics as they relate to songwriting and composition.
Currently reading Chambers's weird classic The King in Yellow. It is free on Project Gutenberg, so you can easily check it out if your eyeballs can handle reading on a computer screen. The stories are of mixed quality, but I found the better ones quite satisfying. You will especially enjoy them, I think, if you have read and enjoyed the 1920's American horror writer H.P. Lovecraft. Chambers was one of Lovecraft's inspirations and several themes common to Lovecraft are present in The King in Yellow: forbidden books that wear away the sanity of their readership, for example.
There is more to say, but I am too hungry to say it. Thanks for reading this. See you on the streets, in my e-mail, on the commons, or in my mailbox.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
May 17th, 2009. 1210hrs --- Had an interesting gig last night; I sang “Sexual Healing” to the chef of the A1 Diner, who came out with some friends. It was good to have company; last Saturday I went out with Nicole and I've been missing her very much ever since. Hurry home, Nicole.
If there's a word for seafood-eating vegetarianism, that word now describes one more skinny white boy's diet. I've also been running and working out for a month. I've already developed some endurance, already developed some muscle. The discipline does me good. I'm being strategic about my life as a whole: cleaning the apartment, budgeting my money, budgeting my time. I want to get a hold on all that loose sand, all those loose minutes that aren't spent constructively. I know from rolling my spare change that small quantities of money add up over time; seconds and minutes add up the same way. I am a healthy, mentally sharp young person with access to many books and musical instruments---I'm streamlining everything in my life so that no moment, no resource is wasted if it could be spent well. When you've got a curious mind and something to exercise it on, life is good.
You might've noticed that I made a photographic appearance in the Kennebec Journal on Wednesday, in the Gardiner insert. It was great to see all these hardworking business owners getting attention throughout that section of the paper; I am a patron and a fan of all those establishments, I crack jokes and trade stories with their owners on a daily basis. My only gripe with the insert is that there are a lot of people missing from it, but many of the town's unique gems were covered, so I suppose I should shut up and be grateful.
A few weeks ago I went to a wine show with my boss to figure out what wines we want to bring into the cafe to sell. While there, we found a bottle called “Red Right Hand,” after the famous song by Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds. The cafe is looking good, by the way; we've got over 250 labels of wine and probably more than 100 microbrewery beers at this point. I still think we need more dry Rieslings. I don't drink wine often, but when I do I love dry Riesling.
Got some music in the mail this week: Dinosaur Jr.'s albums “Without a Sound” and “You're Living All Over Me,” Sam Cooke's “Ain't That Good News,” John Zorn's “Mysterium,” and Phantom Orchard's “Orra.” Also received Jorge Luis Borges's box of lectures that Harvard found in their archives recently. What an amazing man. Later today “Pillow Wand” by Thurston Moore and Nels Cline should arrive. Meanwhile I listen to even more Marvin Gaye. I can't get enough Marvin Gaye.
I hope you're happy, healthy, and productive. Thanks for reading this.
If there's a word for seafood-eating vegetarianism, that word now describes one more skinny white boy's diet. I've also been running and working out for a month. I've already developed some endurance, already developed some muscle. The discipline does me good. I'm being strategic about my life as a whole: cleaning the apartment, budgeting my money, budgeting my time. I want to get a hold on all that loose sand, all those loose minutes that aren't spent constructively. I know from rolling my spare change that small quantities of money add up over time; seconds and minutes add up the same way. I am a healthy, mentally sharp young person with access to many books and musical instruments---I'm streamlining everything in my life so that no moment, no resource is wasted if it could be spent well. When you've got a curious mind and something to exercise it on, life is good.
You might've noticed that I made a photographic appearance in the Kennebec Journal on Wednesday, in the Gardiner insert. It was great to see all these hardworking business owners getting attention throughout that section of the paper; I am a patron and a fan of all those establishments, I crack jokes and trade stories with their owners on a daily basis. My only gripe with the insert is that there are a lot of people missing from it, but many of the town's unique gems were covered, so I suppose I should shut up and be grateful.
A few weeks ago I went to a wine show with my boss to figure out what wines we want to bring into the cafe to sell. While there, we found a bottle called “Red Right Hand,” after the famous song by Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds. The cafe is looking good, by the way; we've got over 250 labels of wine and probably more than 100 microbrewery beers at this point. I still think we need more dry Rieslings. I don't drink wine often, but when I do I love dry Riesling.
Got some music in the mail this week: Dinosaur Jr.'s albums “Without a Sound” and “You're Living All Over Me,” Sam Cooke's “Ain't That Good News,” John Zorn's “Mysterium,” and Phantom Orchard's “Orra.” Also received Jorge Luis Borges's box of lectures that Harvard found in their archives recently. What an amazing man. Later today “Pillow Wand” by Thurston Moore and Nels Cline should arrive. Meanwhile I listen to even more Marvin Gaye. I can't get enough Marvin Gaye.
I hope you're happy, healthy, and productive. Thanks for reading this.
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Cancellation
Gig was cut short this evening because of a bad scene involving bad drunks. All this week's hard work, for nothing!
Sorry to everyone cool who was just trying to enjoy themselves. We'll rally again next week.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
From an Unfamiliar Kitchen Table
Apr 19 1032hrs --- I'm here at Liz's house in Whitefield among good friends old and new. Two of them are sleeping in the loft, but the rest seem to have taken off somewhere for the morning, maybe out for breakfast. Last night I got a bit sauced and took a long loud bath, singing at the top of my lungs for an hour or so until finally my voice broke. I didn't care. It was a full-sized jacuzzi tub, six feet of tub for six feet of Tozier, with skylights above, windows all around. It was three in the morning.
Woke up this morning to a cat snuggling up and making peculiar throat noises. That would've been fine if the cat had been weaned at the appropriate time. She licked and bit and scratched my head until half an hour later, when the enormous European wolf-killer dog took over, flopping down and dozing, half on top of me.
Finally I got up, stacked cans and bottles, broke down cardboard boxes, swept the floor, poured cereal, and sat here at the kitchen table with my laptop...
...looks like nobody left this morning after all, they had just crawled off into the far corners of the house to sleep last night. It's nine-thirty and the house is stirring. There's Jake and Leah, Ryan and Molly, Brandon, and Liz. We've got onions, bacon, and eggs happening, everyone's smiling and laughing, mostly---a few are visibly hung over...
...just took a walk outdoors with my cereal. It's only ten but the weather is already warm. Dog followed me everywhere, looking pleased with what little of the cosmos she can see.
1747hrs---At my folks's home, struggling to stay awake. Didn't get a whole lot of sleep last night. This afternoon my father and I worked out another twenty-five songs for our acoustic duo. We're having a good time with this little pet project.
Alright, I oughta run, maybe take a nap on the couch, maybe watch a movie with my folks. Sounds like "American Graffiti" is likely; I've never seen it.
Today was spent in good company. Favors given, favors taken, good times freely had. This week I start a new cafe schedule and hopefully a new sleep schedule to match. Thanks for reading; enjoy the warm weather this week!
Woke up this morning to a cat snuggling up and making peculiar throat noises. That would've been fine if the cat had been weaned at the appropriate time. She licked and bit and scratched my head until half an hour later, when the enormous European wolf-killer dog took over, flopping down and dozing, half on top of me.
Finally I got up, stacked cans and bottles, broke down cardboard boxes, swept the floor, poured cereal, and sat here at the kitchen table with my laptop...
...looks like nobody left this morning after all, they had just crawled off into the far corners of the house to sleep last night. It's nine-thirty and the house is stirring. There's Jake and Leah, Ryan and Molly, Brandon, and Liz. We've got onions, bacon, and eggs happening, everyone's smiling and laughing, mostly---a few are visibly hung over...
...just took a walk outdoors with my cereal. It's only ten but the weather is already warm. Dog followed me everywhere, looking pleased with what little of the cosmos she can see.
1747hrs---At my folks's home, struggling to stay awake. Didn't get a whole lot of sleep last night. This afternoon my father and I worked out another twenty-five songs for our acoustic duo. We're having a good time with this little pet project.
Alright, I oughta run, maybe take a nap on the couch, maybe watch a movie with my folks. Sounds like "American Graffiti" is likely; I've never seen it.
Today was spent in good company. Favors given, favors taken, good times freely had. This week I start a new cafe schedule and hopefully a new sleep schedule to match. Thanks for reading; enjoy the warm weather this week!
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
New Territory
1110hrs. Added some new songs to my repertoire this week, like “Why?” by Andrew Bird and “In the Aeroplane Over the Sea” by Neutral Milk Hotel.
“Why?” is a jazz number with great lyrics and a swingin' melody. I had never played it all the way through, and I don't know its recordings very well, but at The Mad Dog last night I played it as true jazz: improvising the vocal lines and extending my guitar chords to add little solo parts. It was challenging and much more rewarding than singing the same old by-the-book Johnny Cash tunes every week. I love Cash, but I don't want to play any song into the ground unless there's space to play with it and keep myself interested.
Speaking of new things, I've got a laptop now to treat like a tape machine. My desktop is seven years old and still kicking with its 128MB of RAM, but it is neither quick nor reliable... and even less portable. The poor thing can barely keep both a jukebox and a web browser open at the same time. Monitors must have improved, because text looks pretty sharp on this machine. It should be great for getting this first album recorded and promoted. Progress is good. Hopefully I'll be on time and have it all done by early June.
Had an adventure this weekend; at around 2330hrs on Friday I locked myself out of my apartment with nothing but my guitar. No toothbrush. No food. “No problem,” I said, “I'll crash at my neighbor Amanda's place and pick up the spare key from The Village Jeweler in the morning.” Wrong. The chap who carried the apartment keys had left the business not two days previous. I called my landlady, but didn't receive a response until long after my shift at the cafe had already begun. Two shifts wearing the same clothes, no shower, eight hours of sleep? I was not at my best. But last night I got back in early enough to take a shower before the gig, and that gave me a boost.
Marianne and Auta at The Mad Dog gave me a key to their apartment building two doors down so I can do laundry. I love bartering.
I think that's all.
“Why?” is a jazz number with great lyrics and a swingin' melody. I had never played it all the way through, and I don't know its recordings very well, but at The Mad Dog last night I played it as true jazz: improvising the vocal lines and extending my guitar chords to add little solo parts. It was challenging and much more rewarding than singing the same old by-the-book Johnny Cash tunes every week. I love Cash, but I don't want to play any song into the ground unless there's space to play with it and keep myself interested.
Speaking of new things, I've got a laptop now to treat like a tape machine. My desktop is seven years old and still kicking with its 128MB of RAM, but it is neither quick nor reliable... and even less portable. The poor thing can barely keep both a jukebox and a web browser open at the same time. Monitors must have improved, because text looks pretty sharp on this machine. It should be great for getting this first album recorded and promoted. Progress is good. Hopefully I'll be on time and have it all done by early June.
Had an adventure this weekend; at around 2330hrs on Friday I locked myself out of my apartment with nothing but my guitar. No toothbrush. No food. “No problem,” I said, “I'll crash at my neighbor Amanda's place and pick up the spare key from The Village Jeweler in the morning.” Wrong. The chap who carried the apartment keys had left the business not two days previous. I called my landlady, but didn't receive a response until long after my shift at the cafe had already begun. Two shifts wearing the same clothes, no shower, eight hours of sleep? I was not at my best. But last night I got back in early enough to take a shower before the gig, and that gave me a boost.
Marianne and Auta at The Mad Dog gave me a key to their apartment building two doors down so I can do laundry. I love bartering.
I think that's all.
Monday, March 30, 2009
A Promotion and My First Album of Original Tunes!
Hey there. I hope you enjoyed your weekend.
There's too much to say and my brain is even less of a single-file line than usual. All of the backlog's crowding toward my fingertips at once. Let's see what's in the bottleneck.
I now manage the A1 to Go whenever the owner's not around; that was a major step up. This job is great: I meet everybody in town; I network. I'm learning food, wine, and beer; I'm making more money now than I ever did as a banker. I'm given creative license and my boss treats me as an equal. As for being bumped into a boss position, if somebody needs to be told what to do, I don't mind telling them. And if I must yell, no problem. When somebody's earned it, I don't mind dressing them down.
I've made respectable money by busking on Water Street on warm days. One gal put a five in my hat, sidled up on my right, and kissed me on the cheek while I was singing. What a sweetheart.
One of my tax returns has already arrived, but I'm lost on how to celebrate. This would be an easier task if I got a charge out of getting drunk or hiring strippers or something.... my birthday's coming, too, and I'm unsure whether I want to plan a trip out of town or host a gathering or just stay home and work. Suggestions are welcome.
Meanwhile I'm downloading some music I've wanted to check out for a long time, like the band Low. The song "Tonight" from the album Trust had low female vocals—serious turn-on—and a nice guitar wash with minimal bass keeping things pinned down, marking the chord changes and turnarounds. I am a sucker for boy-girl harmonies in which the girl sings lower.
Sitting in this chair reminds me that I should hire the lovely Sarah Miller to rub out the damage I've done to my back, wrists, legs, and neck. The cafe has been hectic and my work-at-home habits don't relent either. This week won't be different: I'm doing a lot of music theory exploration on paper and strictly practicing guitar technique. I love playing jazz chord forms but I'm not in love with the sound of seventh chords; to me they sound like bad middle ground between more colorful chords (13ths and such) and the simpler triads with stronger tonics. Sevens sound too much like commas; I like my music to be full of ellipses and full stops.
For the next five days I'll be working double shifts on these songs for my first album, trying to make sure they get done by summertime. I don't want to spend the hot months cooped up in my writing room. The process of hammering this thing together out of scraps of wood and rusty nails is teaching me both efficiency and patience. My first novel has been moved to the background more than I'd like, but I had to make a cut somewhere.
Been sleeping eight or nine hours each night. Sleeping alone, but sleeping. I'll take it.
Thanks for reading; I'll be in touch soon.
-Nicholas
There's too much to say and my brain is even less of a single-file line than usual. All of the backlog's crowding toward my fingertips at once. Let's see what's in the bottleneck.
I now manage the A1 to Go whenever the owner's not around; that was a major step up. This job is great: I meet everybody in town; I network. I'm learning food, wine, and beer; I'm making more money now than I ever did as a banker. I'm given creative license and my boss treats me as an equal. As for being bumped into a boss position, if somebody needs to be told what to do, I don't mind telling them. And if I must yell, no problem. When somebody's earned it, I don't mind dressing them down.
I've made respectable money by busking on Water Street on warm days. One gal put a five in my hat, sidled up on my right, and kissed me on the cheek while I was singing. What a sweetheart.
One of my tax returns has already arrived, but I'm lost on how to celebrate. This would be an easier task if I got a charge out of getting drunk or hiring strippers or something.... my birthday's coming, too, and I'm unsure whether I want to plan a trip out of town or host a gathering or just stay home and work. Suggestions are welcome.
Meanwhile I'm downloading some music I've wanted to check out for a long time, like the band Low. The song "Tonight" from the album Trust had low female vocals—serious turn-on—and a nice guitar wash with minimal bass keeping things pinned down, marking the chord changes and turnarounds. I am a sucker for boy-girl harmonies in which the girl sings lower.
Sitting in this chair reminds me that I should hire the lovely Sarah Miller to rub out the damage I've done to my back, wrists, legs, and neck. The cafe has been hectic and my work-at-home habits don't relent either. This week won't be different: I'm doing a lot of music theory exploration on paper and strictly practicing guitar technique. I love playing jazz chord forms but I'm not in love with the sound of seventh chords; to me they sound like bad middle ground between more colorful chords (13ths and such) and the simpler triads with stronger tonics. Sevens sound too much like commas; I like my music to be full of ellipses and full stops.
For the next five days I'll be working double shifts on these songs for my first album, trying to make sure they get done by summertime. I don't want to spend the hot months cooped up in my writing room. The process of hammering this thing together out of scraps of wood and rusty nails is teaching me both efficiency and patience. My first novel has been moved to the background more than I'd like, but I had to make a cut somewhere.
Been sleeping eight or nine hours each night. Sleeping alone, but sleeping. I'll take it.
Thanks for reading; I'll be in touch soon.
-Nicholas
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Zeroing In.
Washington D.C., 1923. Testing bullet-resistant vests.
I can't decide which man's task is more frightening. Can you?
I've hidden underground for some time now, and still don't plan on surfacing until I've finished one of two exhausting enterprises.
When I do reappear, I will have something to sell you. Ten dollars.
When I do reappear, I will have something to sell you. Ten dollars.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
You Are Invited
Picture by either Auta or Marianne, I think.This Saturday I'll be singing for a few hours at The Mad Dog, a new pub on Water Street in Gardiner. They have drinks, desserts, and meals; everything is delicious and affordable. And you are invited. With gusto. Bring friends! Bring family! Meet the easygoing, charming staff!
I play from 7:30pm until about 9:00 or 9:30pm.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Copper Guitars, German Hounds, and Apple Tree Ladders
(c) Mary Becker-Weiss 2009
See the blob-like magnets on the resonator?
They're holding it together. No joke.
See the blob-like magnets on the resonator?
They're holding it together. No joke.
Here's a snippet from Mary's blog at Corniche Online:
Local performer Nick Tozier and his friend Nicole visited for the afternoon. Nick performed an impromptu concert and Nicole spoiled Scout, who is now good for nothing. Since I have only known Nick through our association at A1 to Go, I was very pleasantly surprised by his emotion, originality and talent as a guitarist and singer. Got some good pictures of Nick, which we'll use to promote his performance during our next Gardiner ArtWalk scheduled for May.Flattery will get you far, Mary. As for the ArtWalk, I'll post further details as soon as they're fixed. Meanwhile, take a look at this lil' hussy we found in the shop!
(knavishly snatched from Mary's website)
Her name's Scout; there's a hot spot behind each ear of course. Scratchscratchscratch. Her eyes rolled up and blinked slowly in appreciation, 'til finally she leaned against my leg and sighed—like the pleasure weighed a hundred pounds. Adorable. When I stooped to look at her expression, the rascal craned her neck to take a quick nibble at my lower lip.Scout! You flirt!
...we're dating now.
* * *
Tomorrow I ride to the coast to lend a hand with some apple tree ladders that Robert ordered for an upcoming art piece. Robert and I agreed to alternate deejay duty on his car stereo, hopefully turning each other on to some new jazz pieces. I think I'll bring along Electric Masada, Bennie Maupin, and The Nels Cline Singers.
Hopefully Robert will have some insight into the short story I've been stalling on. Oh, I just realized! In that initial photograph above, that panel behind my shoulder is one of Robert's. There may be clearer pictures of it on the Corniche website, linked above.
Until next time!
Sunday, March 1, 2009
The Mad Dog, Saturday Night
Picture (c) Sarah Miller 2009
Played for an appreciative roomful of faces at The Mad Dog this evening! Made some new friends, caught up with some old ones, sang many a song. It was a welcome break from the three-week trend of lukewarm strangers.
New additions to the songbook that I played this week:
- "Ring of Fire" by Johnny Cash
- "Hate it Here" by Wilco
- "Gravedigger" by Dave Matthews
- "I Gotta Get Drunk" by Willie Nelson
- "Shock the Monkey" by Peter Gabriel
I made $2.00 for my efforts.
Alright, it's time to go curl up with The Defense, a Nabokov novel I grabbed yesterday night while Dan and I poked through the bookstore. Tomorrow I think I'm headed over to visit my family, play music, and maybe do a little recording.
I'm exhausted.
Goodnight, all!
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Miscellaneous.
I went out this evening with Ray and his generous ladyfriend, who bought me beers until I was reeling (it doesn't take long when you're 120lbs. and have almost no tolerance).
Finished Lady Chatterley's Lover. It was remarkable.
Finished Hell House, a haunted house story by Richard Matheson. It was so-so.
I'm going to sleep early in hopes of waking up early. Goodnight!
Finished Lady Chatterley's Lover. It was remarkable.
Finished Hell House, a haunted house story by Richard Matheson. It was so-so.
I'm going to sleep early in hopes of waking up early. Goodnight!
Saturday, February 21, 2009
The Right Book, the Right Time.
At the Mad Dog on Valentine's Day. Picture by Auta.
Lady Chatterley's Lover is a beautiful read. I am eating out of the palm of its hand, absolutely powerless to stop mid-chapter. Yet at the end of a day's reading I feel momentarily full, satisfied, enriched. D.H. Lawrence seems to inhabit all his characters at once; we see each of them through the eyes of all the others one by one.
The protagonist Connie and the gamekeeper of the Chatterley grounds are particularly sympathetic characters. I feel nervous when they are tense, thrilled (mostly) when they make love, blithe when they enjoy one another's company simply. Oy, it's been too long since a book took me the way this one does. Some passages are so great that I make noises out loud that the neighbors probably smirk at. Still I can't stifle the sounds.
I hope you out there are well, too, Reader. Are you?
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Sunday, February 8, 2009
My Famous Feet
This is my own snapshot, not Mary's. Hers are fantastic.Photographs of my feet by Mary-Becker Weiss are available on greeting cards at Corniche in downtown Gardiner! When I went in it looked like my feet had momentarily sold out.
Also available at Corniche are some works by my good pal Robert Saunders, whose friendship, generosity, hospitality, art, and jazz collection have enriched my life over the past year. Robert will be a recurring character in blogs to come.
Swing into Corniche to see Robert and my feet!
Also available at Corniche are some works by my good pal Robert Saunders, whose friendship, generosity, hospitality, art, and jazz collection have enriched my life over the past year. Robert will be a recurring character in blogs to come.
Swing into Corniche to see Robert and my feet!
Saturday, February 7, 2009
How You Touch Her, Part II
Listening to a guitar is of course a purely auditory experience; watching a guitarist stimulates both your eyes and your ears. Playing the guitar adds pleasing tactile sensations, the satisfaction of musical progress, and the intrigue of communicating in a new tongue that is nonverbal like body language... and equally expressive.
Touch is a central pleasure of the guitar. Before you even pluck a string, you're taking something pretty onto your knee and putting your arms around her. That's a pretty good start, wouldn't you say?
The back of her neck is long, sleek, and smooth. If you run a hand up the fretboard lightly, you'll feel each of those metal inlays like rough bumps on a smooth road-like surface. Finally, as you begin to play, you're pinning taut wires to a hard surface with your fingers, vibrating them with the other hand until they ring pleasingly.
Even back when it used to hurt, back when I was a beginner, I loved how the wires resisted me, how they bit grooves into my skin. Slowly my fingertips hardened until I could play for hours without pain, and that was like losing some physical form of virginity. I had been initiated, I was entering another world!
Guitar continues to be a process of discovering limitations and working to push them farther out. Every time I sit down I confront myself, I struggle, and if I'm lucky that day, I overcome. Then I'm one tiny step closer to being able to express any musical idea that pops into my head; my hands are one notch closer to being "obedient."
Thursday, February 5, 2009
It All Depends on How You Touch Her.
My amplifier now does nothing but hum when plugged in, and I can't afford to replace such an expensive piece of gear. So I'm an acoustic player by necessity for the time being: two hands and a heart and a pure love of sound! I've got everything I need.
The guitarists I look up to stand in agreement: the most important thing affecting the quality of sound from a guitarist is not his gear, but his touch. This is a comforting thought to those of us who can't afford professional-grade setups. Technique and artistic vision should form the core of any musician, and those two things can be exercised through any reliable instrument. I've got a certain degree of both qualities, or so I like to think, and they seem to feed one another. When I apply myself, I'm able to make one significant leap every day.
Tonight I sat and paid close attention to the fingertips of my left hand. I noticed that they were slightly out of sync with my right hand's plucking and strumming motions, which caused harshness of tone, and even some accidentally muted notes, during solos and melodic lines. I smoothed that out by painstakingly practicing a scale form until I had completely rebuilt my left hand's way of doing business. Then, as a new man, I used the scale to improvise. Breakthrough! I devised my first-ever melody that sounds upbeat and positive! It even sounds vaguely African in flavor ("African" is a major generalization; forgive me). Then, during a recorded improvisation, I developed more ideas based on those initial "hooks." I'm a happy fellow.
Do I still want good gear? You bet. Ideally, I'd acquire enough electronic devices to make listeners say "What is he doing, pleasuring a rhinoceros with a modified dentist's drill whilst turning cartwheels?!" I'd love to be creative that way. For now I can't afford to, but perhaps that's fortunate, maybe I'll grow as an artist first and then begin to incorporate my chosen noisemakers, fuzzblasters and crunchsplatters.
Again, though, the important question is how you choose to touch this lovely curvy thing that you wrap your arms around.
All else is secondary.
It all depends on how you touch her.
As I will consider publicly tomorrow, right here. Tune in by dialing http://tavernofsouls.blogspot.com
Sunday, February 1, 2009
The Week in Review
My workplace has changed hands! The new owner's full of ideas and energy, so the place should grow.
This week I exchanged a few letters with penpals in Connecticut and Germany, learned five songs and sketched out the structure of a new song of my own. Its title is a phrase I've heard drivers scream repeatedly at the anonymous occupants of other cars. Surprisingly, the song is PG.
Finally, I started composing an ominous piece for bass clarinet, timpani, and bass voices. Closed out the week on Saturday night by playing for a crowd of friends and peers at the pub downtown. Dan stayed out both Friday and Saturday. Had a great time!
Tomorrow night I meet with a local guitarist, Tuesday with a banjo player. More writing and composing all week.
Today I began reading The Man Who Tasted Shapes by Richard E. Cytowic. It has wooed me, and a few fun little essays are forthcoming, so my next entry will be much less like buckshot. I promise.
Okay. Off to organize my next move; it's already past ten and there's much to do before bed!
This week I exchanged a few letters with penpals in Connecticut and Germany, learned five songs and sketched out the structure of a new song of my own. Its title is a phrase I've heard drivers scream repeatedly at the anonymous occupants of other cars. Surprisingly, the song is PG.
Finally, I started composing an ominous piece for bass clarinet, timpani, and bass voices. Closed out the week on Saturday night by playing for a crowd of friends and peers at the pub downtown. Dan stayed out both Friday and Saturday. Had a great time!
Tomorrow night I meet with a local guitarist, Tuesday with a banjo player. More writing and composing all week.
Today I began reading The Man Who Tasted Shapes by Richard E. Cytowic. It has wooed me, and a few fun little essays are forthcoming, so my next entry will be much less like buckshot. I promise.
Okay. Off to organize my next move; it's already past ten and there's much to do before bed!
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Valentine's Day & Other Nightmares
I am not looking forward to a Valentine's day performance.
Two or three hours of love songs?! I'm unsure whether this is going to be fun or depressing.
Well, I finally started wearing headbands around the house. For practical reasons only! You will probably never see me wearing them, but Al, I finally took your advice. Thanks! I can at least work now without hair in my eyes.
Got some hard decisions ahead, some hard traveling. Life is a hard puzzle, a hard puzzle indeed. I think I'll go now and rehearse for tonight's gig. In fact, I'll put together a rough setlist while I'm here.
Two or three hours of love songs?! I'm unsure whether this is going to be fun or depressing.
Well, I finally started wearing headbands around the house. For practical reasons only! You will probably never see me wearing them, but Al, I finally took your advice. Thanks! I can at least work now without hair in my eyes.
Got some hard decisions ahead, some hard traveling. Life is a hard puzzle, a hard puzzle indeed. I think I'll go now and rehearse for tonight's gig. In fact, I'll put together a rough setlist while I'm here.
- "A Boy Named Sue" - J. Cash
- "Big Rock Candy Mountain" -American Hobo Song
- "Cape Cod Girls" -Sea Chantey
- "Come Away with Me" -Norah Jones
- "First Song" -Poem by Galway Kinnel, set to music by Andrew Bird
- "The Way" - Performed by Fastball, dunno who wrote it.
- "Drunken Sailor" -Sea Chantey
- "Folsom Prison Blues" - J. Cash
- "Frog Went a-Courtin' " - American Folk
- "Gun Street Girl" - Tom Waits
- "Hallelujah" -Leonard Cohen
- "Hallelujah, I'm a Bum" - American Hobo Song
- "I've Been Everywhere" - Can't remember who wrote this 'un. Merle Haggard?
- "James Alley Blues" - Richard "Rabbit" Brown
- "Long Way Home" - Not sure whose this song is. Country standard, for sure
- :"Me Father's a Lawyer in England" - English drinking song that I rewrote for my own purposes.
- "The Times They are a-Changin' " - Bob Dylan
- "Cocaine Blues" - J. Cash
- "Oh, Darling" - The Beatles
- "Nightingale" -Norah Jones
Friday, January 23, 2009
An Arabian Storyteller Gives Me Blueballs
I've been flirting with Scheherazade's stories for a long while. Reading them seems a struggle, though a glad one.
My first contact with The Arabian Nights was an uncensored version of the story "Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves" when I was maybe fourteen years old. That's the famous tale from which the phrase "Open sesame!" originates. It contains a description of a man being carved into quarters and hung on a wall as a warning to that same man's brother. I loved it.
In 2007, back when I was a foolish young lad who didn't care to research different translations before embarking on one, I bought and read the Barnes & Noble bargain paperback edition. "Boy," I thought more than once, "I remember these stories being more gruesome." I kept reading. I had a great time... but it could've been much better; I learned after reading about a thousand pages that the version of the Nights I'd just finished was a neutered version of a declawed version of the original tales, and that many of the more explicit stories had just been omitted, censored entirely. Serious bummer; a thousand pages took a long time to read. I learned from the experience.
In 2008 I bought a CRW Publishing LTD incarnation of The Arabian Nights that uses a translation by Sir Richard Burton. It faithfully presents all the racism, violence, and eroticism for view. What I've read of it is already miles better than the B&N version that'd had its testicles removed. The problem is that this edition is enormous, not easily portable... and it still doesn't have all of the stories. Perhaps there are just too many to collect in one volume. Until I can afford a six-volume set, I guess I'm jolly well fucked.
Well, I'll leave you with a cute passage from a particular scene where a "lucky" porter has fallen in with some beautiful gals who're toying with him:
My first contact with The Arabian Nights was an uncensored version of the story "Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves" when I was maybe fourteen years old. That's the famous tale from which the phrase "Open sesame!" originates. It contains a description of a man being carved into quarters and hung on a wall as a warning to that same man's brother. I loved it.
In 2007, back when I was a foolish young lad who didn't care to research different translations before embarking on one, I bought and read the Barnes & Noble bargain paperback edition. "Boy," I thought more than once, "I remember these stories being more gruesome." I kept reading. I had a great time... but it could've been much better; I learned after reading about a thousand pages that the version of the Nights I'd just finished was a neutered version of a declawed version of the original tales, and that many of the more explicit stories had just been omitted, censored entirely. Serious bummer; a thousand pages took a long time to read. I learned from the experience.
In 2008 I bought a CRW Publishing LTD incarnation of The Arabian Nights that uses a translation by Sir Richard Burton. It faithfully presents all the racism, violence, and eroticism for view. What I've read of it is already miles better than the B&N version that'd had its testicles removed. The problem is that this edition is enormous, not easily portable... and it still doesn't have all of the stories. Perhaps there are just too many to collect in one volume. Until I can afford a six-volume set, I guess I'm jolly well fucked.
Well, I'll leave you with a cute passage from a particular scene where a "lucky" porter has fallen in with some beautiful gals who're toying with him:
All this time the Porter was carrying on with them, kissing, toying, biting, handling, groping, fingering; whilst one thrust a dainty morsel in his mouth, and another slapped him; and this cuffed his cheeks and that threw sweet flowers at him; and he was in the very paradise of pleasure, as though he were sitting in the seventh sphere among the Houris of Heaven.That's it for tonight. Goodnight!
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Feels Good to be Understood.
A local photographer and acquaintance wrote today, responding to the comments I made on her college thesis:
What a gal.
In exchange, she's taking my picture so I'll have visual material for music marketing & promotion.
It's supposed to be -10 degrees Fahrenheit tonight! Jesus.
"So, this is my e-mail thanking you for your inspired, insightful, devilish, indulgent, candid, smart-ass comments."
What a gal.
In exchange, she's taking my picture so I'll have visual material for music marketing & promotion.
It's supposed to be -10 degrees Fahrenheit tonight! Jesus.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Restless.
Literally and philosophically speaking. I'm restless.
Like grapes are hanging from the vine just above my best leaping grab. Like my fingertips just brush their skin. Like the grapes are swollen and sweet and just ripe enough.
And I can't for the life of me knock a cluster down.
Maybe a midnight walk will clear my head.
Like grapes are hanging from the vine just above my best leaping grab. Like my fingertips just brush their skin. Like the grapes are swollen and sweet and just ripe enough.
And I can't for the life of me knock a cluster down.
Maybe a midnight walk will clear my head.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
May I Groom You?
Jeff, a great conversationalist and entertainer that frequents the bar I played at tonight, said to the cook:
"Do you mind if I groom you while you eat?"
Snapped one of the gay men from down the bar:
"Do you mind if I eat you while you groom?"
Shot beer out my nose.
"Do you mind if I groom you while you eat?"
Snapped one of the gay men from down the bar:
"Do you mind if I eat you while you groom?"
Shot beer out my nose.
2008 Inventory
Every year I like to take stock of how I've grown, what I've accomplished, and where I'm going. What's my next move? It's inventory time.
2008, especially since late Summer, has been explosive.
Since October I've learned about fifty new songs, finished writing & composing five of my own, and expanded my repertoire by about three and a half continuous hours of guitar and voice. Learned Woody Guthrie, Leadbelly, sea chanteys, American Hobo Songs like "The Big Rock Candy Mountain," blues tunes like "James Alley Blues," Johnny Cash covers, Tom Waits covers, and all kinds of other traditional music or new music in the old tradition. Reactions have been fantastic... I've got a regular weekly gig and I'm rapidly making contacts for more.
God, a few gigs were crazy. Frontal nudity, addresses scribbled on napkins and stuffed in the tip hat, hard-partying older ladies shouting along to "What Shall We Do With a Drunken Sailor?" What a great time.
Earlier in the year I wrote more fiction, but the past few months I've been steadily exploring what I want to do in music... by feeling my ideas out in essay form. I've been studying music theory, learning chord voicings, reading and writing sheet music more comfortably, even working on some musical scales from non-western cultures.
In October I wrote a twisted little book of Halloween limericks that'll soon be set to music.
Recorded about three hours of audio in 2008.
Read the massive first book of Don Quixote. I can't recommend that one enough. It's hilarious and profound.
Got three new students, aged 9, 11, and thirtysomething. They are simultaneous, a package deal: a mother and two daughters. It's been lovely.
Immediately on the horizon: a long-incubating short story, an album of improvised dronal music that blends traditional Indian and Jewish music with bass drones from my throat and from a heavily distorted (thus long-sustained) electric guitar. I'm also working on more conventional, lyrical songs. It's possible that I'll have two CDs out by Summertime, though I'll probably have to push them under different "band" names. One under my real name, probably, and the other under a pseudonym.
God, I love getting out of bed in the morning. Every morning.
Happy New Year!
2008, especially since late Summer, has been explosive.
Since October I've learned about fifty new songs, finished writing & composing five of my own, and expanded my repertoire by about three and a half continuous hours of guitar and voice. Learned Woody Guthrie, Leadbelly, sea chanteys, American Hobo Songs like "The Big Rock Candy Mountain," blues tunes like "James Alley Blues," Johnny Cash covers, Tom Waits covers, and all kinds of other traditional music or new music in the old tradition. Reactions have been fantastic... I've got a regular weekly gig and I'm rapidly making contacts for more.
God, a few gigs were crazy. Frontal nudity, addresses scribbled on napkins and stuffed in the tip hat, hard-partying older ladies shouting along to "What Shall We Do With a Drunken Sailor?" What a great time.
Earlier in the year I wrote more fiction, but the past few months I've been steadily exploring what I want to do in music... by feeling my ideas out in essay form. I've been studying music theory, learning chord voicings, reading and writing sheet music more comfortably, even working on some musical scales from non-western cultures.
In October I wrote a twisted little book of Halloween limericks that'll soon be set to music.
Recorded about three hours of audio in 2008.
Read the massive first book of Don Quixote. I can't recommend that one enough. It's hilarious and profound.
Got three new students, aged 9, 11, and thirtysomething. They are simultaneous, a package deal: a mother and two daughters. It's been lovely.
Immediately on the horizon: a long-incubating short story, an album of improvised dronal music that blends traditional Indian and Jewish music with bass drones from my throat and from a heavily distorted (thus long-sustained) electric guitar. I'm also working on more conventional, lyrical songs. It's possible that I'll have two CDs out by Summertime, though I'll probably have to push them under different "band" names. One under my real name, probably, and the other under a pseudonym.
God, I love getting out of bed in the morning. Every morning.
Happy New Year!
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