Every bottom has a trapdoor...

As much as I bitched about the lack of sunlight last week, things started to look up that week as the sun finally peaked through the clouds on Sunday. I had a bid on some freelance writing job, and the guy who owns the blog decided to give me a go. It's not much money ($20 for 10 articles, so far), but hey it's something.

Then, the douchebags at the newspaper I guess have an issue with people doing more than one paper route with the weather approaching freezing, so one of my 2 routes got cut, which slices my current income of $350 a week (sometimes more, sometimes less) in half. So, I have 2 good checks coming in, then it's back to being the hobo I was in September, except with no awesome My Bloody Valentine shows to make me feel exhilarated , and with friggin' X-Mas coming up! Plus, my 2 front tires are balding, and need to come up w/ $200 by next month to get 'em replaced without having to borrow any more money from my parents and then having them give me one of their lectures about where my money goes, and that I'm in debt, and yadda yadda yadda. Seriously, I've been living pretty econo lately. I go out maybe once a week, eat cheap, and haven't really had any urges to buy anything for myself, save a couple of records earlier in the month. In fact, I kinda want to sell everything I own just to get out of hock. I know I won't, and really I don't want to, but that's why I'm doing that 'housecleaning' project.

So I've been applying everywhere, tryin' to get interviews. I have 3 lined up for next week. I have an interview at UPS tomorrow. I worked there in 2005, talk about regression. Well, regression rhymes with RECESSION! I've been trying to get another job since September, so I can actually TRY to get out of debt, but nothing has pulled through yet, so now I'm getting a job just to break even again.

I feel like my life is playing like a sad Bruce Springsteen song... I've been feeling "Atlantic City" lately, but I haven't been driven to kill anyone yet out of desperation, and I don't have any kids (thank God).

My mantra lately is "I'll get it right one day."

Dirge Blog For November

Around the same time every year (late October-mid November), I just feel blah. No other words to describe it. And it could be because Daylight Savings Time ends and we lose one hour of sunlight every day.

The past week, I feel like I've been living a Joy Division song (Decade, maybe, or something less macabre but intensely dreary; Atmosphere or Dead Souls, or perhaps even Colony). I also feel like the entire Dirt album by Alice In Chains; sluggish, bleak, exhausted and trying to find a way to keep your shit together.

The past 4 or 5 days have been miserable, and rainy. The past 4 or 5 days, I haven't done much of anything but sleep. I work overnight from 2:30 to 6 delivering papers, and on a normal day, I sleep lightly. I usually wake up at 11 or 12, sometimes 1 or 2 if I'm really tired. Lately, though, I've been waking up later and later, and whenever I do set an alarm for 11:30 (because I have to look for another job and do errands I've been putting off), I can't get out of bed for the life of me. I feel like my bed is made up of Krazy Glue and I can't loosen myself from it. Today, I set my alarm for 12, and didn't get out of bed until 2. Thursday, I didn't get out of bed until 4:45 in the afternoon. And I feel like shit because of it. It's not like I really needed the sleep or anything, or enjoyed it. I've been feeling like I've accomplished next to nothing, or done next to nothing, and it's been like one long day that will never end.

To counter that, and try to make myself not depressed, I've been listening to nothing but jazz, Parliament/Funkadelic and Prince. And Patti Smith's Horses album gets me goin'. I need upbeat music. I heard Nirvana's "Something in the Way" the other day, a song I absolutely love, and felt suicidal. I think those dimwits who shot themselves after listening to Judas Priest did it on an overcast, crappy day. Bad call. If it were raining, you should have borrowed your little sister's Bangles record. It would have saved Judas Priest a trip to court!!

Seriously, though. The sun needs to come out. November sucks enough, with it getting dark at 4:30 in the afternoon, and the weather getting cold. Fuck you, November!

Another one bites the dust...

If I were to take the original master tapes of the 3 Jimi Hendrix Experience records and mix them according to who was still alive today, you wouldn't hear anything (not including guest musicians, which was especially prevalent during Electric Ladyland).

That's right folks; I just found out via Tim Napalm's Myspace blog, and Pitchfork Media that the last surviving member of the Jimi Hendrix Experience, Mitch Mitchell, was found dead in his Portland hotel room this morning. Natural causes, they say. A real shame. A real drag. Jimi died in 1970. Bassist Noel Redding died in 2003, and now Mitch Mitchell has joined them.

Mitchell was an extraordinary drummer, and one of the most underrated. He emerged in an era where drummers began to gain the spotlight in music, and he competed with the ranks of Ginger Baker, Keith Moon and John Bonham. With the exception of Bonham, Mitchell, in my opinion, was a far better drummer than the drummers of that era. It was that Jimi Hendrix was a bona fide guitar god, and people were marveled by his antics that Mitchell's drumming, always a source for acclaim, was kind of left in the dark. His drumming was frantic, jazzy and inventive. Motherfucker could create some killer drum fills. Listen to the drum fills in "Manic Depression," and you'll know what I'm talking about. Whenever I had a conversation about the Jimi Hendrix Experience, I always recognized Mitchell's drumming, in addition to the obvious genius of Hendrix. It's a shame that he didn't do too much, aside from under-the-radar session work, after Hendrix's death in 1970. He did however, just complete a tour with a few fellow musicians (Kenny Wayne Shephard, Buddy Guy and Aerosmith's Brad Whitford, to name a few) dubbed the Experience Hendrix Tour 2008, which celebrated the life and music of his former bandmate.

Predeceasing Mitchell this year was another Hendrix collaborator, Buddy Miles, who played with Hendrix during his short-lived Band of Gypsies. Miles died in February.

Damn! These classic rockers keep dropping like flies! And all the good ones, too!

Here's some classic Jimi Hendrix Experience

"The creator has a master plan..."

As a result of my housecleaning project (see below), I also came across a bunch of old CD-Rs that I hadn’t touched in a long time. I really haven’t had any use for CDs in the past couple of years, because CDs suck and I have an iPod with a pretty high storage capacity. In fact, I made back-up discs for all my CDs, sold them all, and made about $500. I still have a few CDs that either are on CD-Rs, or I can’t find the case or the insert to them (therefore, I can’t sell them), so I kept them in one of those spindles that CD-Rs come in. Always keeping inventory of my music collection, I decided that I should listen to them again. It wouldn’t hurt to rediscover some old stuff I loved when I was in high school.

Since the age of 15, I have been into jazz. I like Miles Davis a lot, and I worship John Coltrane. I go through phases where I listen to jazz incessantly, from the dissonant grooves of Ornette Coleman, to the whimsical stylings of Thelonious Monk’s Misterioso. I’ve always been drawn to avant-garde jazz (or free jazz), basically where jazz musicians say “fuckall” to conventional structures, and just play what they feel. It’s a generally misunderstood art form, and I even knew some hardcore jazz fans who found Coltrane’s Ascension to be “too out there,” even if they love Charles Mingus. But I get it. A lot of it is pretty genuine, but there are others who are avant-garde and experimental just for the sake of being so (and being able to tell the difference is an accomplishment on its own, a small victory for me).

Kenneth* and I were very into jazz during high school. We would listen to jazz records all the time; we would go to the library to rent jazz CDs, download notable jazz records online, and trade recommendations with one another. I went through a phase where I listened to these jazz records more than I listened to rock. I still would put Coltrane’s A Love Supreme in my personal Top Five records ever.

During my daily paper routes, I usually tune in to the local college radio station (WXCI – WestConn) but I guess after hours, they have a set playlist until regular programming resumes, so the same songs, most of them great, are getting kind of tiresome and repetitive. Regular radio sucks, and I’m too paranoid to leave my iPod in the car when I make deliveries (though, sometimes, I walk with my headphones on, but they get uncomfortable after a while). For the last week, these old CDs I have suffice just fine.

I put on an old jazz record I used to love, but had forgotten about; Karma by Pharoah Sanders. Sanders was a protégé of Coltrane during his experimental, free jazz period, and served as a sideman for him from 1965 until Coltrane died in 1967. I haven’t heard anything except some of his work with Coltrane and the aforementioned Karma LP, so I’m not gonna pretend like I know his entire back catalogue, although I intend to plunge into it headfirst soon. I put it on, and I immediately was transported back to when I was 16 or 17, and hearing it in my room for the first time. The opening notes to “The Creator Has a Master Plan” almost drove me to tears, and I was captivated immediately.

I put that track on repeat, and listened to it 3 times in a row. The track is 32 minutes and 47 seconds long…

That’s right. I spent over an hour and a half listening to the same song only 3 times. Some people do this with your average three or four minute songs. Not me. I do this with extended jazz compositions that grasp at your soul, flare up your heart, and make you feel like you are immortal.

From the opening four notes of Sanders’ wailing saxophone, you know that you’re in for an interstellar journey. The introduction alone is resonant in a way that most music just isn’t. After about two minutes, the main theme to the song begins, and along with a bassline reminiscent of Coltrane’s “Acknowledgement,” a flute, and exotic percussion instruments, Sanders solos for several moments, with not one note out of place, and not one second bordering on the song becoming repetitive or self-indulgent. The vocals finally start around 7:26, provided by the song’s co-author, Leon Thomas, an avant-garde jazz vocalist, and a disciple to Sanders. The lyrics to this song are very simplistic, yet effective, telling of a higher being whose ultimate plan for the universe is eternal grace for everyone.

The lyrics:

The creator has a master plan,
peace and happiness for every man
The creator has a working plan,
peace and happiness for every man
The creator makes but one demand,
happiness through all the land

In the liner notes, there are two additional verses, but Leon Thomas probably forgot to sing them. Oh well.

Then there’s the focal point of the song, which starts around 15:40 (stupid emo kids call it a breakdown, I call it the emotional zenith!). It starts off as a sped-up variation of the main theme of the piece, with Sanders just reaching deep into his soul and exerting these notes that are so primal and so passionate that it seems like his life is dependent on them, and Thomas singing and wailing as if he was experiencing an epiphany or a great deal of joy. And I wish I could be right there with him, getting a contact high on whatever he was feeling. Let’s not forget that the other musicians in that song (James Spaudlin on flute, Lonnie Liston Smith on piano, Richard Davis on bass, Billy Hart on drums, and Nathaniel Bettis on percussion) playing from their souls, and adding as perfect sidemen to Sanders (17:29 – 28:14).

After that, the song basically goes back to its variation, and Leon Thomas reiterating about the creator’s master plan. After the piece finally ends, you feel like you have been given a gift. Not only are you alive, but you live in a world where sound and technology has advanced to the point where seemingly perfect and evanescent moments such as these at your convenience. This may be just me, a cynical atheist who lost his faith in organized religion at the age of 9, but this song makes me feel that maybe there is a god of some sort that wants us all to be happy. The song’s lyrics, probably derived from the teachings of Buddha, are praising a higher deity in its simplest terms, which, in my opinion, is the correct way. If I were to believe in a higher power, I would be a Deist. I would believe in a higher power that created the world and all that, and wants us all to be happy, but does not interfere with your life, much like the Christian God portrayed in the Bible (or as Bill Maher calls it, “The book of Jewish fairy tales.”).

As one critic once wrote, “The Creator Has a Master Plan” is like a sequel to A Love Supreme. It’s not only that, but it’s a testament to Coltrane’s influence, as well as a cathartic tribute. Nickelbackers won’t get it, nor will I expect them to, but for those who look for music that is emotionally charged with joy, and need a break from anger or melancholia, this is one of those rare pieces.

Addendum:

I was on eBay the other day, just browsing, and I searched for records that the auctions on them were soon expiring. Lo and behold, I found Pharoah Sanders’ Karma. The original Impulse! label pressing from 1969 for $10. I placed a bid on it for $15.00, and guess what happened? That’s right. I was five seconds away from winning, and some douchebag OUTBID ME A THE LAST SECOND!!!!! I was so pissed off.

I wept. Like a kid with a broken toy…

Hope’s not lost. I found a few more copies of it on eBay stores, going for around $20. A small price to pay for spirituality you can’t find in your local congregation.

Housecleaning Time in Kyleland

There was a point in time that lasted for years that I would buy or collect things just to have them around. Clothes, records, books, movies, video games. I used to keep CDs and records if there were maybe three songs I liked from the record, or if I was just too lazy to MP3 them, and burn onto a CD (or, more recently, transfer them to my iPod). I kept movies I enjoyed a couple of times, or video games I enjoyed playing a couple of times, and what for? In the battle of quantity versus quality, quantity won for a long time. Friends are not exempt from this category. I used to add people on my Myspace page that I was nothing more than mere acquaintances with, or add people to my AIM Buddy List I’d talk to maybe once or twice. Perhaps it was a manifestation of my ever-persistent desire to be accepted or “popular.” Perhaps I was just a paranoid, insecure kid who thought that people would look down on me if I only had a handful of Myspace friends, or phone contacts. A testament to my stupidity and naiveté, I know.

Right before I moved around July, I started doing an inventory list of everything I had. All my records, DVDs, video games, books, and clothes… scattered in piles in my room with no A/C. Writing down what I had in a notebook. Everything went into generally two categories (with a third category being added, contingent on whether or not I liked something); the “No Shit Sherlock” Keepers, and the “You Know I’m Not Sure If I Like This/I’ve Never Fully Played This To Make an Educated Decision” Up For Review items. It took me a few hours to sort through everything, and write everything down, but I did it. I should have been packing them at the persistent request of my dad and stepmother, but I’m the King of Procrastination. But, I figured that this was a perfect opportunity to at least start such a daunting project, because frankly, a lot of my shit was just taking up room, and was usually purchased at the expense of personal and financial responsibility (a bad habit I’ve had for years; I might be a spend-a-holic).

Now, don’t get me wrong. A lot of the things I own I’m proud to have. My record collection (yes, records, the stuff before CDs and iPods, and even cassette tapes; I’m old school) has some great stuff I’ve acquired over the years. A lot of my finds I’m especially proud of. But then there are some records that I’ve acquired from thrift stores and old collections I’ve come across that I just don’t care for, as well as some overplayed and overrated classic rock albums I owned just to have them on vinyl. Sure, Back in Black sounds great on vinyl, better than on CD, but I really don’t need it. I’m tired of AC/DC! And if I hear their latest song again, which sounds like a rewrite of most of their other songs from the past 30 years or so, I’m gonna kill someone! As for video games, I’m old school as well. I’ll kick anyone’s ass in Street Fighter II (even when I’m drunk, as one of my friends found out one Halloween when I was shitfaced on Dubra), and Super Mario 3 for the regular Nintendo still gets my vote as the greatest game ever made, I don’t care how realistic graphics are nowadays! The most recent system I have is a PS2… I’m like 10 years behind on video games. Not that it really matters. DVDs? It’s pretty easy to buy a movie you like and think you’ll watch them a lot, but I’ve realized that that only applies to a few select ones. Clothes, you wear ‘em out, you outgrow ‘em, it’s natural. Books, you read ‘em once, maybe twice, and they just sit there. I used to think that money bought happiness. I was told that it doesn’t, but I used to prefer finding things out for myself, sometimes at my expense, and sure enough, it doesn’t. As I gazed at my possession sprawled across my bedroom that humid July afternoon, I realized that I felt as empty as I had ever since my senior year of high school. I had been nursing a void that had been persistent ever since I was young (see that long-winded entry about friends and letting go below), and what a pathetic way to fill it… with stuff that you can lose in a fire, or get stolen, Jah forbid.

So for the past few months, I’ve been on-and-off, playing the video games, listening to the records, and watching the films that I had put up for review. It’s an overwhelming process. I put it off a lot. But when I’m at it full force, it feels pretty liberating. The things that are worth keeping, I just put back on the shelves. The things that are not worth keeping I intend to sell (selling being that third category). FYE gives cash for used DVDs given they’re in good shape, so I’ve made a few runs there and got some money back for them. Amelia and I have been consigning old clothes, jewelry, and assorted knick-knacks to a consignment shop, and we’ve managed to rack in a good amount of dough for that. As for my retro video games and records, for now I’m gonna try my luck with eBay. I’m sure I can make some good money off of some of the shit I have! Some of the records I ultimately didn’t like too much are pretty generous in value. I have a mono copy of Jefferson Airplane’s “Surrealistic Pillow,” the original 1967 pressing, and see people sell it on there for upwards to $100, and I’m sure that there are some young record collectors who would like some of my old Van Halen records. Even old Nintendo games sell for a lot of money, depending on the popularity and scarcity of them, since, you know, they don’t make them anymore. For all the money I wasted on them, I might as well try to get some of that money back, and put it to good use. I am in a good amount of debt right now, and I’m just too old for pissing my money away.

As far as friends go, the delete button is still hard to press for a few people. I have a hard time diminishing or extracting people out of my life, mainly for the sole purpose that they’re people. People are composed of blood, skin and feelings, and an old Springsteen record won’t care if I get rid of it. But, you know what? I’m sure half the people on my AIM list and Myspace friends I haven’t had contact with in years won’t be affected one bit if they have one less friend on there. And if they do care, they can always add me back. Myspace is stupid. Fuck Myspace! I just deleted one-third of my “friends.”

Yet, there are a couple of people I’m just confused about. There are people you develop connections with, and there are people you can tell a lot of yourself to, but they turn out to be unreliable. I don’t know whether we’re friends or we just use each other for time, attention and a pair of ears. You know those types… the type that will talk to you once for a long time, then not talk to you for like a couple of months and make it a tedious and exasperating task to even try to hang out with them. I used to be able to take that with a grain of salt. I used to endure my stomach boiling out of anger and hurt feelings and write it off as an allergic reaction to milk, even if I had eaten no dairy products that day. I should just confront them and be like “So are you in or out? Cuz I ain’t doing this shit anymore.” One less person on my mind would be great at this time. I have too much to do to worry about other people’s perceptions and bullshit.

I already went over this “friends suck worse than the people who hate you” thing in my “letting go” entry, and it does fit in with the theme of this entry, using cheesy architectural metaphors. And no, I did not attend “The Plan.” But your life is essentially a house that needs regular and consistent upkeep, and too much clutter just makes your state of affairs a huge mess, and that gets in the way of everything. However, the more progress I make with sorting out my personal inventory, paying off my debts, and getting my life even the slightest in order, the better I feel. Unfortunately, it's like a colonic of the soul. It's a pain in the ass! but the results are positive. Invigoration, here I come!

If music be the food of love, play on...

This blog is going to feature more shit about music.

I'm gonna start a webpage devoted to music reviews.

I realized this today while working the paper routes, and listened to a 33 minute jazz epic two times in a row. I'm rediscovering all the freaky jazz records I was into my junior & senior years of high school.

More on that later.

Epiphany.

One of those survey things, stolen from my sister

1. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up?

I’m gonna have to go with Sarah Palin on this one. Hard choice, and unoriginal, because my sister gave the same answer on her blog when she did this questionnaire. But, the talk of MSNBC, Fox News, CNN, etc. is that Sarah Palin is seen as the GOP’s possible future during its stage of regrouping and reprioritizing its ideals, while Barack Obama enjoys a well-deserved presidency, even if Sarah Palin is one of the most divisive cunts ever to tarnish the national stage. Then the GOP will have to find someone entirely new. Muahahahahaha!

2. You can flip a switch that will wipe any band or musical artist out of existence. Who will it be?

Just one? AHHHH! Do NOT ask a music snob this question. It’s a tossup between Miley Cyrus and Panic At The Disco. Panic, I think wins because they might have just a little more longevity than Miley.

3. Who would you really like to just punch in the face?

Dane Cook. And tell him that he’s not funny, and to stop stealing jokes from good comedians.

4. What is your favorite cheese?

Not a cheese guy. But I like me some mozzarella (fresh, or on pizza)

5. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your immediate disposal. What kind of sandwich will you eat?

Grilled chicken, with a slice of turkey bacon, romaine lettuce and BBQ sauce, served with an awesome pickle on the side.

6. You have the opportunity to sleep with the movie celebrity of your choice. We are talking no-strings-attached sex and it can only happen once. Who is the lucky celebrity of your choice?

Anne Hathaway, hands down!

7. You have the opportunity to sleep with the music celebrity of your choice, who will it be?

Joanna Newsom!!!!! I’d say Tori Amos circa 1992 or so, but she has that whole rape trauma thing, and from what I heard, mace sucks.

8. Now that you've slept with two people in a row, you seem to be having an excellent day because you just came across a hundred-dollar bill on the sidewalk. What do you buy?

Records

9. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go?

I’d say Paris. Or possibly Amsterdam. I wouldn’t have much fun though, as I am broke.

10. An angel appears out of heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the beverage of your choice. It is?

v-8 Splash!

11. Rufus appears out of nowhere with a time-traveling phone booth. You can go anywhere in the PAST. Where do you go?

I hate this question. How many places and time periods do I get to go to? You should specify!

12. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place?

No assholes or douchebags allowed! Hey, you have to start somewhere!

13. You have been given the opportunity to create the half-hour TV show of your own design. What is it?

“Shoot Assholes Out of a Cannon!” This week’s guest, Rush Limbaugh and that caller on his show that called the Obama supporters at Grant Park in Chicago on Election Night “Bolsheviks.”

14. What is your favorite curse word?

Fuck. Because you still can’t say it on network TV 

15. One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren't really doing anything, what do you do?

Kick ‘em in the balls!

16. Your house is on fire! What do you do?

Make like David Lee Roth’s spandex pants and SPLIT!

17. The Angel of Death has descended upon you. Fortunately, the Angel of Death is pretty cool and in a good mood, and it offers you a half-hour to do whatever you want before you bite it. Whatcha gonna do in that half-hour?

Kill the Angel of Death!

18. You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and whats even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What super-power is it?

Flying. I’d say teleporting, but… I like scenery and listening to my iPod when I travel!

19. You can re-live any point of time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half-hour of your past would you like to experience again?

If I went back anywhere, I would be tempted to want to live past that half-hour and carry on as life was then with what I know now and prevent me from making some dumb mistakes. I guess the My Bloody Valentine show during the last half hour.

20. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?

I wouldn’t change anything, per se. How I dealt with it, maybe, but I wouldn’t change anything.

21. You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check this out you can move anywhere. Where are you going?

England

22. This question still counts, even for those of you who are under age, if you were banned from every bar in the world except one, which one would it be?

I dunno. I guess Rudy’s

23. Hopefully you didn't mention this in the super-powers question... If you did, then we'll just expound on that. Check it out… Suddenly, you have gained the ability to fly! Whose house are you going to fly to first, and be like "Check it out I can FLY!?"

Amelia’s 

24. The constant absorption of magical moon beams mixed with the radioactive vegetables you consumed earlier has given you the ability to resurrect the dead famous person of your choice. So which celebrity will you bring back to life?

Kurt Cobain or Bill Hicks. They weren’t done yet!