Are you familiar with the phrase, "in the zone?"
When an athlete is said to be in the zone they are playing at a super human level. Their play is effortless and very close to flawless. Furthermore, when interviewed after the game they will explain how the basket just seemed ten feet wide...how the baseball looked as large as a softball.
It is a form of self hypnosis. Are you familiar with hypnosis? Most people are ignorant about the subject and so the topic is strewn with adjectives that resemble magic and trickery.
Hypnosis, simply put is an intense form of concentration. The rest of the world is gone, nothing but you and what you are doing remains.
An athlete in the zone is just in such a state of concentrating that he has stopped thinking about the game mechanics and has become one with the ball. Bruce Lee was right, you know. Become the glass to hold the water.
When I play on stage I close my eyes most of the time. It is for the purpose of zoning out.
Inducing self hypnosis, blocking out the audience and just becoming a part of the music playing.
It is at that point that you begin to feed from the audience. Absorb their enthusiasm...be carried by them. Much as you do for them.
I wonder if I resemble a Stepford wife when my eyes open?
Thursday, December 31, 2009
It's a New Year...A Blue Moon...And Moi
You've heard the stories actors tell of recalling things in their lives to evoke a certain emotion.
Thinking of the death of a loved one to bring tears to the eyes, et cetera.
I just spent the last hour trying to apply this technique to my guitar and damn if it doesn't work.
I put on a Weather Report album with the intention of just noodling around for a while.
When a certain song began.
It made me think of a friend from when I was a kid in New Jersey.
What Doug's last name is, I cannot recall. But he and I shared much in terms of musical taste and ability.
And he used to make me laugh a lot.
A lot.
He made up his own language in an effort to disguise his cussing from his mothers' sensitive ears.
Anyway...
We both loved Weather Report, so when this song began I don't know what made my eyes close but I began to think of him. A smile came across my face.
I noticed my playing had also taken on an aspect of sheer goofy, laughing until you cry mirth.
This woke me from my reverie.
The next song began in a minute. It was more subdued.
I thought of a time when I was quiet and peaceful.
My playing took on the patois of quiet joy. A language of it's own.
I have a new technique!
Thinking of the death of a loved one to bring tears to the eyes, et cetera.
I just spent the last hour trying to apply this technique to my guitar and damn if it doesn't work.
I put on a Weather Report album with the intention of just noodling around for a while.
When a certain song began.
It made me think of a friend from when I was a kid in New Jersey.
What Doug's last name is, I cannot recall. But he and I shared much in terms of musical taste and ability.
And he used to make me laugh a lot.
A lot.
He made up his own language in an effort to disguise his cussing from his mothers' sensitive ears.
Anyway...
We both loved Weather Report, so when this song began I don't know what made my eyes close but I began to think of him. A smile came across my face.
I noticed my playing had also taken on an aspect of sheer goofy, laughing until you cry mirth.
This woke me from my reverie.
The next song began in a minute. It was more subdued.
I thought of a time when I was quiet and peaceful.
My playing took on the patois of quiet joy. A language of it's own.
I have a new technique!
Cyrcadian Rhythm
On a workday I awaken everyday at 7 am. I cannot sleep past that. I work from home and I could easily sleep an extra hour anytime I wish and still get my work completed.
On a weekend I can sleep in?
These same rhythms seem to pervade my entire musical being.
I begin to write a song and depending on the time of day when I begin, I may not be able to lay it down and go to bed. Or if I do manage to fall asleep, I awaken early with the song bouncing about my head. I guess this is a form of OCD (not the pedal). I cannot allow it to lay unfinished.
Other aspects of my life I can plain ignore.
But if I feel a sense of responsibility I cannot allow it to sit unattended.
I wonder what causes this sense of responsibility in things I care little for?
Work?
And then why the same feeling when I DO care...Id Est - a song I am writing?
The songs created under these conditions are not my best. Feeling responsible is not conducive to creativity, I guess.
On a weekend I can sleep in?
These same rhythms seem to pervade my entire musical being.
I begin to write a song and depending on the time of day when I begin, I may not be able to lay it down and go to bed. Or if I do manage to fall asleep, I awaken early with the song bouncing about my head. I guess this is a form of OCD (not the pedal). I cannot allow it to lay unfinished.
Other aspects of my life I can plain ignore.
But if I feel a sense of responsibility I cannot allow it to sit unattended.
I wonder what causes this sense of responsibility in things I care little for?
Work?
And then why the same feeling when I DO care...Id Est - a song I am writing?
The songs created under these conditions are not my best. Feeling responsible is not conducive to creativity, I guess.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Fulltone OCD
Overdrive is a touchy subject.
Most will resort to some coloration, almost none boost to breakup without distorting...heavily.
I have been playing with this thing for a couple of hours and so far I am amazed by the clarity and the drive!
This thing can scream. Or not.
Three dials - Volume - Tone - Drive.
And a HP/LP switch.
LP is straight amp - HP is boosted.
The pedal can show 30db of boost - no small feat.
Tone is a treble bleeder.
I have the Volume at 10 am, Tone at Noon and Drive at 9 am.
Used alone there is no coloration whatsoever.
It is just a drive.
Oh, and what a drive it is!
Mix in a Chorus or some Fuzz and you'll swear you are hearing things.
Or maybe not. No huge noise output when you're not playing.
It can make use of anything from 9 VDC to 18 VDC. Clarity and amount of drive change with the voltage.
Boutique pedal?
I dunno.
They run about $150. But can be found for $130 new or about $100 used, depending on the version.
You know how guitarists are - they seem to covet the older builds. Easier to mod, more desirable tone, whatever. The latest iteration is the fourth in the line.
I just retired an MXR Distortion + and a Danelectro Fab Overdrive.
Anyone want to offer me a few bucks and save me from having to list them on CL?
Most will resort to some coloration, almost none boost to breakup without distorting...heavily.
I have been playing with this thing for a couple of hours and so far I am amazed by the clarity and the drive!
This thing can scream. Or not.
Three dials - Volume - Tone - Drive.
And a HP/LP switch.
LP is straight amp - HP is boosted.
The pedal can show 30db of boost - no small feat.
Tone is a treble bleeder.
I have the Volume at 10 am, Tone at Noon and Drive at 9 am.
Used alone there is no coloration whatsoever.
It is just a drive.
Oh, and what a drive it is!
Mix in a Chorus or some Fuzz and you'll swear you are hearing things.
Or maybe not. No huge noise output when you're not playing.
It can make use of anything from 9 VDC to 18 VDC. Clarity and amount of drive change with the voltage.
Boutique pedal?
I dunno.
They run about $150. But can be found for $130 new or about $100 used, depending on the version.
You know how guitarists are - they seem to covet the older builds. Easier to mod, more desirable tone, whatever. The latest iteration is the fourth in the line.
I just retired an MXR Distortion + and a Danelectro Fab Overdrive.
Anyone want to offer me a few bucks and save me from having to list them on CL?
Weather & Music
Some of my livelier pieces were written during storms.
Some of the most somber ones came forth during weeks of sunshine.
Is it the type of weather or the repetition of weather that causes this?
Did Grunge come about because of Seattles never ending rain? Or was it the RAIN that made it popular?
Artists have to either paint what they see or reproduce it from memory.
If Van Gogh had been in England rather than the continent, would his art have been darker while his life brighter?
If the position of the stars can influence us, then the weather which is much more personal, must.
But I wonder at the mechanism.
Some of the most somber ones came forth during weeks of sunshine.
Is it the type of weather or the repetition of weather that causes this?
Did Grunge come about because of Seattles never ending rain? Or was it the RAIN that made it popular?
Artists have to either paint what they see or reproduce it from memory.
If Van Gogh had been in England rather than the continent, would his art have been darker while his life brighter?
If the position of the stars can influence us, then the weather which is much more personal, must.
But I wonder at the mechanism.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
The Kids Are Alright
I recently put an ad in the local CraigsList looking for a new band - Guitarist Available.
If you're not familiar, CL has become something of a pirates cove - scammers, links to other dubious websites or offers to buy your jewelry are the usual fare of replies I receive.
However one was from two kids that live nearby. Just to be a mensch I answered their inquiry.
Two sixteen year olds answer an ad referencing Beatles, Weather Report, et cetera?
I also mentioned (I always do) that I studied with Al DiMeola, "way back when."
They could have surmised my approximate age and yet they continued to correspond.
They even sent me a questionnaire to asses my commitment to music.
In my last missive I said, "I am old enough to be your grandfather."
Let's see if they write again!
Music does have a way of bridging time and space.
Update: Here is the reply - "Really? My Grandfather is in his mid to late 60s
But it's cool."
The Kids Are Alright.
If you're not familiar, CL has become something of a pirates cove - scammers, links to other dubious websites or offers to buy your jewelry are the usual fare of replies I receive.
However one was from two kids that live nearby. Just to be a mensch I answered their inquiry.
Two sixteen year olds answer an ad referencing Beatles, Weather Report, et cetera?
I also mentioned (I always do) that I studied with Al DiMeola, "way back when."
They could have surmised my approximate age and yet they continued to correspond.
They even sent me a questionnaire to asses my commitment to music.
In my last missive I said, "I am old enough to be your grandfather."
Let's see if they write again!
Music does have a way of bridging time and space.
Update: Here is the reply - "Really? My Grandfather is in his mid to late 60s
But it's cool."
The Kids Are Alright.
Sunday, December 27, 2009
C'est La Vie
By Emerson, Lake & Palmer
C'est la vie
Have your leaves all turned to brown
Will you scatter them around you
C'est la vie
Do you love
And then how am I to know
If you don't let your love show for me
C'est la vie
Oh c'est la vie
Oh c'est la vie
Who knows, who cares for me
C'est la vie
In the night
Do you fight a lover's fire
Do the ashes of desire for you remain
Like the sea
There's a love too deep to show
Took a storm before my love
Flowed for you
C'est la vie
Oh c'est la vie
Oh c'est la vie
Who knows, who cares for me
C'est la vie
Like a song
Out of tune and out of time
All I needed was a rhyme for you
C'est la vie
Do you give
Do you live from day to day
Is there is no song I can play for you
C'est la vie
Oh c'est la vie
Oh c'est la vie
Who knows, who cares for me
C'est la vie
C'est la vie
Have your leaves all turned to brown
Will you scatter them around you
C'est la vie
Do you love
And then how am I to know
If you don't let your love show for me
C'est la vie
Oh c'est la vie
Oh c'est la vie
Who knows, who cares for me
C'est la vie
In the night
Do you fight a lover's fire
Do the ashes of desire for you remain
Like the sea
There's a love too deep to show
Took a storm before my love
Flowed for you
C'est la vie
Oh c'est la vie
Oh c'est la vie
Who knows, who cares for me
C'est la vie
Like a song
Out of tune and out of time
All I needed was a rhyme for you
C'est la vie
Do you give
Do you live from day to day
Is there is no song I can play for you
C'est la vie
Oh c'est la vie
Oh c'est la vie
Who knows, who cares for me
C'est la vie
Friday, December 25, 2009
I Always Loved The Cute Beatle
Maybe I'm Amazed
by Paul McCartney
Maybe I'm amazed at the way you love me all the time
Maybe I'm afraid of the way I love you
Maybe I'm amazed at the way you pulled me out of time
And hung me on a line
Maybe I'm amazed at the way I really need you
Baby I'm a man maybe I'm a lonely man
Who's in the middle of something
That he doesn't really understand
Baby I'm a man and maybe you're the only woman
Who could ever help me
Baby won't you help me understand,
Baby I'm a man, maybe I'm a lonely man
Who's in the middle of something
That he doesn't really understand
Baby I'm a man and maybe you're the only woman
Who could ever help me
Baby won't you help me understand, oohhh
Maybe I'm amazed at the way you're with me all the time
Maybe I'm afraid of the way I leave you
Maybe I'm amazed at the way you help me sing my song
Right me when I'm wrong
Maybe I’m amazed at the way I really need you
Oh maybe I'm amazed.
Maybe I'm amazed.
Yeah, yeah yeah.
Yeah, Maybe I'm amazed.
I'm amazed, with you.
Oo-oo. Oo-oo.
by Paul McCartney
Maybe I'm amazed at the way you love me all the time
Maybe I'm afraid of the way I love you
Maybe I'm amazed at the way you pulled me out of time
And hung me on a line
Maybe I'm amazed at the way I really need you
Baby I'm a man maybe I'm a lonely man
Who's in the middle of something
That he doesn't really understand
Baby I'm a man and maybe you're the only woman
Who could ever help me
Baby won't you help me understand,
Baby I'm a man, maybe I'm a lonely man
Who's in the middle of something
That he doesn't really understand
Baby I'm a man and maybe you're the only woman
Who could ever help me
Baby won't you help me understand, oohhh
Maybe I'm amazed at the way you're with me all the time
Maybe I'm afraid of the way I leave you
Maybe I'm amazed at the way you help me sing my song
Right me when I'm wrong
Maybe I’m amazed at the way I really need you
Oh maybe I'm amazed.
Maybe I'm amazed.
Yeah, yeah yeah.
Yeah, Maybe I'm amazed.
I'm amazed, with you.
Oo-oo. Oo-oo.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Monday, December 21, 2009
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Fear - Kick It To The Curb
I understand why evolution found fear useful.
But in todays world, it needs refining.
Toned down a notch or two.
Or more.
Most regrets faced during mid-life crisis are rooted in a fear.
Men get a motorcycle and a girlfriend - conquer death and the other mortal fear - women.
How many of our actions while growing up were driven by fear?
Fear of appearing stupid.
Fear of being perceived as not manly. "Queer."
Fear of not fitting in?
Fear of rejection?
That over riding, palm staining, stomach churning case of nerves...butterflies...fear.
Now when I go to perform, I get nervous...fear - but it sharpens me?
Fear being used the way nature intended.
The application of the emotion is where the fault lies.
When I stand backstage, awaiting to be called on stage, my stomach feels the exact same way it feels when I talk to a woman who I feel is "beyond" me.
Once I get on stage I begin to feel calm.
Once the first song starts my fear is forgotten...completely.
But when I seek the company of a woman I think is beyond me and my stomach starts to quake it doesn't aid me, it hinders me.
Is that the inner voice of reason/God speaking the truth to us?
It's not so much that I have conquered fear, rather I have confronted it and acknowledged it.
And have told my fear that I would not be subservient to it any longer.
When I met a woman whom my inner voice told me was too familiar to be true, I knew no fear.
Only a sense of wonder and discovery - about the two of us and about myself.
I guess the emotion does work.
My bad.
Why the confusion between the two?
But in todays world, it needs refining.
Toned down a notch or two.
Or more.
Most regrets faced during mid-life crisis are rooted in a fear.
Men get a motorcycle and a girlfriend - conquer death and the other mortal fear - women.
How many of our actions while growing up were driven by fear?
Fear of appearing stupid.
Fear of being perceived as not manly. "Queer."
Fear of not fitting in?
Fear of rejection?
That over riding, palm staining, stomach churning case of nerves...butterflies...fear.
Now when I go to perform, I get nervous...fear - but it sharpens me?
Fear being used the way nature intended.
The application of the emotion is where the fault lies.
When I stand backstage, awaiting to be called on stage, my stomach feels the exact same way it feels when I talk to a woman who I feel is "beyond" me.
Once I get on stage I begin to feel calm.
Once the first song starts my fear is forgotten...completely.
But when I seek the company of a woman I think is beyond me and my stomach starts to quake it doesn't aid me, it hinders me.
Is that the inner voice of reason/God speaking the truth to us?
It's not so much that I have conquered fear, rather I have confronted it and acknowledged it.
And have told my fear that I would not be subservient to it any longer.
When I met a woman whom my inner voice told me was too familiar to be true, I knew no fear.
Only a sense of wonder and discovery - about the two of us and about myself.
I guess the emotion does work.
My bad.
Why the confusion between the two?
Keep Your Eyes Averted!
When you're looking for love,
It doesn't come.
Being lonely is not a lot of fun.
When you're looking,
You are no fun at all.
When you cry,
You cry alone.
No one cares to stop or intercede.
When you cry,
You know no relief, you just want to die.
So close your eyes,
And look no more.
But I can't see past the tears,
Nor the lies that led to fears.
I worry that I'll always be this way.
And then I stopped listening to my drunken monkey.
It doesn't come.
Being lonely is not a lot of fun.
When you're looking,
You are no fun at all.
When you cry,
You cry alone.
No one cares to stop or intercede.
When you cry,
You know no relief, you just want to die.
So close your eyes,
And look no more.
But I can't see past the tears,
Nor the lies that led to fears.
I worry that I'll always be this way.
And then I stopped listening to my drunken monkey.
Fostex MR - 16 HD/CDRW Reset
I was recording some new pieces when I decided to transfer the material to my pc.
On the MR-16, you enter a System Menu, connect it to the pc and transfer the data.
When finished you are to press the Stop key to exit USB mode.
Usually you are met with a "Wait One Moment," screen, followed by the return to the System Menu.
However, under some circumstances the whole recorder can freeze on the "Wait.." screen.
One condition is interrupting the USB (usually by powering down - which at this point can only be done by removing the plug), another is removing files the recorders hard disk needs - d'oh!
Take a breath.
Power the unit while holding the Enter knob. You are looking for the System Menu and for the Power light to stay lit. If you have to cycle power more than once to 'catch' the System Menu, so be it.
Once you make it into the System Menu, go to the second page and choose, "Disk Format." Confirm it by Entering a 'Yes.'
All better!
When you exit the System Menu, you should be looking at the normal Start Screen.
The Song number and time left, which in this case should say "2...1,000"
If the Power switch stays lit and the 'Hall" presence comes on by default, then you are home free and finished.
If not, I can only suggest repeatedly trying the above technique until you get it to work - or email me and we can try to work it out.
Hard disks can be tough on users.
Breathe.
On the MR-16, you enter a System Menu, connect it to the pc and transfer the data.
When finished you are to press the Stop key to exit USB mode.
Usually you are met with a "Wait One Moment," screen, followed by the return to the System Menu.
However, under some circumstances the whole recorder can freeze on the "Wait.." screen.
One condition is interrupting the USB (usually by powering down - which at this point can only be done by removing the plug), another is removing files the recorders hard disk needs - d'oh!
Take a breath.
Power the unit while holding the Enter knob. You are looking for the System Menu and for the Power light to stay lit. If you have to cycle power more than once to 'catch' the System Menu, so be it.
Once you make it into the System Menu, go to the second page and choose, "Disk Format." Confirm it by Entering a 'Yes.'
All better!
When you exit the System Menu, you should be looking at the normal Start Screen.
The Song number and time left, which in this case should say "2...1,000"
If the Power switch stays lit and the 'Hall" presence comes on by default, then you are home free and finished.
If not, I can only suggest repeatedly trying the above technique until you get it to work - or email me and we can try to work it out.
Hard disks can be tough on users.
Breathe.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Why Do They Call It, "Falling" In Love?
Fiddler On The Roof.
Given enough time and something in common, affection can develop.
Some call that love.
I call it like-honed-to-a-point.
The reason the act of finding true love is referred to as "falling," is because of the precipitous nature of the decent.
The same is true in music.
If I have to labor and craft a piece, over and over it generally falls into my mediocre pile.
That which strikes in a fit of passion and needs little refining is superlative.
And it is funny how easily I can recognize which mode is occurring when in the throes of creativity.
Okay, explain that to me.
We've heard not to second guess ourselves, but that is a talent well sharpened among us humans.
What is it about that inner voice that is so true?
Is that God speaking to us?
Through us?
Is that our divine nature?
Not all instinctual choices are the best. Society and the times demand we suppress some of our "first choices."
But notice, it was the speed with which the emotion establishes itself or the amount of creative flow that determines true love.
In the areas of creativity, love, food...the choice that is clear quickly is the true one. The one that develops over time is an acquired taste.
Mind you, not that acquired tastes are necessarily a bad thing.
But they are not the perfect thing - the best thing.
Passionate outbursts are by their very nature overpowering.
Slow, smoldering outpourings generally end up looking very much "crafted."
So if you feel it, run with it.
Don't second guess yourself.
Given enough time and something in common, affection can develop.
Some call that love.
I call it like-honed-to-a-point.
The reason the act of finding true love is referred to as "falling," is because of the precipitous nature of the decent.
The same is true in music.
If I have to labor and craft a piece, over and over it generally falls into my mediocre pile.
That which strikes in a fit of passion and needs little refining is superlative.
And it is funny how easily I can recognize which mode is occurring when in the throes of creativity.
Okay, explain that to me.
We've heard not to second guess ourselves, but that is a talent well sharpened among us humans.
What is it about that inner voice that is so true?
Is that God speaking to us?
Through us?
Is that our divine nature?
Not all instinctual choices are the best. Society and the times demand we suppress some of our "first choices."
But notice, it was the speed with which the emotion establishes itself or the amount of creative flow that determines true love.
In the areas of creativity, love, food...the choice that is clear quickly is the true one. The one that develops over time is an acquired taste.
Mind you, not that acquired tastes are necessarily a bad thing.
But they are not the perfect thing - the best thing.
Passionate outbursts are by their very nature overpowering.
Slow, smoldering outpourings generally end up looking very much "crafted."
So if you feel it, run with it.
Don't second guess yourself.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Only The Present is Hard And Fast
The future is malleable.
When I was in 9th grade my heart, all my passion went towards one girl.
I was in love.
We had little in common. But there was "something magical" about the effect she had upon me - when I looked into her eyes I melted. I could stare at a photo and be just as twitterpated.
So I must be in love, right?
Nah - She resembled my mother. But had nothing remotely like my mother in her makeup - she was foreign to me. The fact that we were intimate made my perception even muddier.
Fast forward 30 years.
She looks nothing like the girl I knew. My fascination has gone.
All these years I carried her around my neck when the truth was, she and I were not meant to be. Easy as that, and just as simple to understand. Of course, at the time I didn't get it at all.
The future changes things.
Let me amend that. The future changes some things we think immutable.
The countersign is, that once we recognize the difference between learning to love someone and being meant for someone, we can be truly happy.
I also believe that the odds of finding that soul-mate are good.
Keeping them is another story, altogether.
When I was in 9th grade my heart, all my passion went towards one girl.
I was in love.
We had little in common. But there was "something magical" about the effect she had upon me - when I looked into her eyes I melted. I could stare at a photo and be just as twitterpated.
So I must be in love, right?
Nah - She resembled my mother. But had nothing remotely like my mother in her makeup - she was foreign to me. The fact that we were intimate made my perception even muddier.
Fast forward 30 years.
She looks nothing like the girl I knew. My fascination has gone.
All these years I carried her around my neck when the truth was, she and I were not meant to be. Easy as that, and just as simple to understand. Of course, at the time I didn't get it at all.
The future changes things.
Let me amend that. The future changes some things we think immutable.
The countersign is, that once we recognize the difference between learning to love someone and being meant for someone, we can be truly happy.
I also believe that the odds of finding that soul-mate are good.
Keeping them is another story, altogether.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
How High The Moon?
Does the Moon have an effect upon creativity?
Does your sign matter?
Rhythms in life as anything else in this life have ebb and flow to them.
My spurts of creative juice seem to occur during the same times of the year.
Although the duration has been increasing for each creative stretch.
I wonder if eventually I will be creative 24/7?
Some of the distilled product is worthy, some is not. But the sheer volume seems to pick up at certain times of the year.
I think that men and women are both influenced by cycles and outside forces such as tides, the Moon.
Women are not the only ones to have monthly cycles. Perhaps the male counterpart is 21 days...who knows?, but we follow similar basic patterns.
Women suffer from menopause and men have midlife crises.
Same shit, different day.
Different symptoms but it is the body shifting gears about midway through life.
Child bearing and rearing are no longer needed.
The skills and life lessons gleaned by the previous generation need to be handed down.
We shift from hunters to scholars.
Perhaps that's why my art seems to refine and yet at the same time widen with age.
I can do more and do it better than when I was younger.
I can touch the Moon.
Does your sign matter?
Rhythms in life as anything else in this life have ebb and flow to them.
My spurts of creative juice seem to occur during the same times of the year.
Although the duration has been increasing for each creative stretch.
I wonder if eventually I will be creative 24/7?
Some of the distilled product is worthy, some is not. But the sheer volume seems to pick up at certain times of the year.
I think that men and women are both influenced by cycles and outside forces such as tides, the Moon.
Women are not the only ones to have monthly cycles. Perhaps the male counterpart is 21 days...who knows?, but we follow similar basic patterns.
Women suffer from menopause and men have midlife crises.
Same shit, different day.
Different symptoms but it is the body shifting gears about midway through life.
Child bearing and rearing are no longer needed.
The skills and life lessons gleaned by the previous generation need to be handed down.
We shift from hunters to scholars.
Perhaps that's why my art seems to refine and yet at the same time widen with age.
I can do more and do it better than when I was younger.
I can touch the Moon.
Without You
Without you,
I have no one to share.
No worries, no cares.
I drift easy, without you.
Without you,
I have no loves.
Won or lost.
I have no struggles, no way to grow.
I love alone without you.
Without you,
The sun still shines.
The world continues to turn.
But my heart and life are cold and alone.
I live alone without you.
I have no one to share.
No worries, no cares.
I drift easy, without you.
Without you,
I have no loves.
Won or lost.
I have no struggles, no way to grow.
I love alone without you.
Without you,
The sun still shines.
The world continues to turn.
But my heart and life are cold and alone.
I live alone without you.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Flights of Fancy
Most of the wanderings my mind embarks upon are not sorted or strange.
Every now and then, however, my thoughts take flight and scare the bejeesus out of me.
I revolve about something that my mind has latched on to and will not let it go.
Why do I get fiercely jealous?
I am rarely envious, people can have what they wish.
I don't care when it comes to possessions.
But feelings of amour, and rational people lose their minds.
And I take it to another level by an order of magnitude.
I wonder why that is?
Why are my passions a thousand times as intense as most of my fellow man?
Why is it that I fall for those whose passions equal or better mine?
Like two stars colliding in slow motion.
The current fashion for mens' behavior is typified by the colloquialism, 'bros before hos.'
Men don't cry over women, today. Or they won't admit to it.
So what is it about those like me that we are more than ready to show the world we love someone?
Keep on flying...
Every now and then, however, my thoughts take flight and scare the bejeesus out of me.
I revolve about something that my mind has latched on to and will not let it go.
Why do I get fiercely jealous?
I am rarely envious, people can have what they wish.
I don't care when it comes to possessions.
But feelings of amour, and rational people lose their minds.
And I take it to another level by an order of magnitude.
I wonder why that is?
Why are my passions a thousand times as intense as most of my fellow man?
Why is it that I fall for those whose passions equal or better mine?
Like two stars colliding in slow motion.
The current fashion for mens' behavior is typified by the colloquialism, 'bros before hos.'
Men don't cry over women, today. Or they won't admit to it.
So what is it about those like me that we are more than ready to show the world we love someone?
Keep on flying...
Monday, December 7, 2009
What Exit Are You From?
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/12/07/business/media/07reality.html?_r=1&scp=1&sq=mtv%20reality%20shows&st=cse
The SNL joke revolved around all New Jersey-ites knowing which exit on the NJ Turnpike (I-95) they reside near.
Bad joke, but I can laugh at myself.
(Why does N.J have all the toxic dumps and California all the lawyers? N.J. got to choose first.)
Although I was born in LI, NY I lived in N.J. from 1962 until 1983, so I consider myself a a Jersey boy - sorry Bruce, I had to.
Well, now it seems that MTV has decided to sully Italian Americans as well as New Jersey as a state with their latest offering, "Jersey Shore."
The participants use the term "Guido" much the same way Hip-Hop personages use "nigger."
I find the use of either term to be incredibly ignorant and reprehensible.
Racial or in this case ethnic epithets do nothing but perpetuate the stereotypes.
I am far more Italian than some of my Italian friends.
(And some of them are more Jewish than me)
And the kids on this show defend themselves in much the same way as the Hip-Hop 'artists' will defend their transgression.
"The show’s cast members have defended themselves in interviews, saying that the term some people find offensive, to them simply refers to a lifestyle of muscled, well-coiffed and deeply tanned men and women."
What a crock of shit.
It epitomizes a thick necked, violence prone barbarian with no intelligence who is more interested in looking good than being good.
It drives all Italian-Americans into a small, tiny pigeonhole.
The other offering is no better.
ABC’s new series “Find My Family” is exploitation at its worst.
Of course a happy reunion will make for nice ratings, but I wonder if the producers will see fit to show the aftermath as well?
In fact, I fear that is precisely what they are banking on.
If the reunion was tearful just wait until the anger, questions and unresolved issues surface.
DRAMA of the first degree!
Bingo - a ratings giant.
How crass and Scrooge-like that at this time of year there are people who will shamelessly exploit the plight of others for their own aggrandizement.
These people who for whatever reason could not raise their children do not need the entire television viewing audience there when the child asks the natural questions.
Or when the rest of the family interferes to the point of making a bad scene worse.
For shame, ABC!
I hope ABC gets a visit from the Ghosts of Christmas.
The SNL joke revolved around all New Jersey-ites knowing which exit on the NJ Turnpike (I-95) they reside near.
Bad joke, but I can laugh at myself.
(Why does N.J have all the toxic dumps and California all the lawyers? N.J. got to choose first.)
Although I was born in LI, NY I lived in N.J. from 1962 until 1983, so I consider myself a a Jersey boy - sorry Bruce, I had to.
Well, now it seems that MTV has decided to sully Italian Americans as well as New Jersey as a state with their latest offering, "Jersey Shore."
The participants use the term "Guido" much the same way Hip-Hop personages use "nigger."
I find the use of either term to be incredibly ignorant and reprehensible.
Racial or in this case ethnic epithets do nothing but perpetuate the stereotypes.
I am far more Italian than some of my Italian friends.
(And some of them are more Jewish than me)
And the kids on this show defend themselves in much the same way as the Hip-Hop 'artists' will defend their transgression.
"The show’s cast members have defended themselves in interviews, saying that the term some people find offensive, to them simply refers to a lifestyle of muscled, well-coiffed and deeply tanned men and women."
What a crock of shit.
It epitomizes a thick necked, violence prone barbarian with no intelligence who is more interested in looking good than being good.
It drives all Italian-Americans into a small, tiny pigeonhole.
The other offering is no better.
ABC’s new series “Find My Family” is exploitation at its worst.
Of course a happy reunion will make for nice ratings, but I wonder if the producers will see fit to show the aftermath as well?
In fact, I fear that is precisely what they are banking on.
If the reunion was tearful just wait until the anger, questions and unresolved issues surface.
DRAMA of the first degree!
Bingo - a ratings giant.
How crass and Scrooge-like that at this time of year there are people who will shamelessly exploit the plight of others for their own aggrandizement.
These people who for whatever reason could not raise their children do not need the entire television viewing audience there when the child asks the natural questions.
Or when the rest of the family interferes to the point of making a bad scene worse.
For shame, ABC!
I hope ABC gets a visit from the Ghosts of Christmas.
Friday, December 4, 2009
I Don't Know What It Is...Other Than Love
Other than love,
What would make my madness so complete?
Other than love,
Why would I hurt this way?
Other than love,
Who but you know what I feel?
Other than love,
Is this real?
When you smile at me,
What can it be?
Other than love.
What would make my madness so complete?
Other than love,
Why would I hurt this way?
Other than love,
Who but you know what I feel?
Other than love,
Is this real?
When you smile at me,
What can it be?
Other than love.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
White Noise is a Symphony
If I look at a random pattern, for instance, the striations in a marble piece...will form pictures. On my bathroom floor, there is a human face and a the face of a fox.
If you turn a fan or any other white noise source on, I hear music.
I've heard metal, classical, it really depends on the source of the noise.
Like the hum from an air conditioner versus the buzz of a nearby highway.
I noticed this getting more pronounced as I grew older.
Once, as a young twenty something I saw the face of Jimi Hendrix on my wooden bedroom floor. (No, no drugs were involved)
I took a sharpie and outlined it. My friends could easily recognize who the face belonged to and I was told I had 'talent.'
I dismissed the notion and lived for another 25 years in a coma.
When I awoke, I had been given a rare and beautiful gift.
A Muse.
She inspired me to reach into places I hardly knew existed, let alone explored.
Now, five years later, my love for my Muse has matured.
And with it the gift has grown more focused and somehow better implemented.
I see more things more often, and they are very appreciated by others.
I can take tracing paper into my bathroom and emerge with a fine drawing of a fox or a seventeenth century, wigged personage.
What I can tell is the talent is refined by age.
Now, someone needs to figure out what the mechanics of the process are.
I also need a way to better record the sounds I hear in my head.
Do writers get images the same way?
A woodworker his inspiration from the pattern on a rug?
Where do Muses come from and why do we need them so?
They set us free, but how?
I am sure mine could not explain it to anyone, it just happened.
It was a by-product of another process.
Go look up 'caudate.'
If you turn a fan or any other white noise source on, I hear music.
I've heard metal, classical, it really depends on the source of the noise.
Like the hum from an air conditioner versus the buzz of a nearby highway.
I noticed this getting more pronounced as I grew older.
Once, as a young twenty something I saw the face of Jimi Hendrix on my wooden bedroom floor. (No, no drugs were involved)
I took a sharpie and outlined it. My friends could easily recognize who the face belonged to and I was told I had 'talent.'
I dismissed the notion and lived for another 25 years in a coma.
When I awoke, I had been given a rare and beautiful gift.
A Muse.
She inspired me to reach into places I hardly knew existed, let alone explored.
Now, five years later, my love for my Muse has matured.
And with it the gift has grown more focused and somehow better implemented.
I see more things more often, and they are very appreciated by others.
I can take tracing paper into my bathroom and emerge with a fine drawing of a fox or a seventeenth century, wigged personage.
What I can tell is the talent is refined by age.
Now, someone needs to figure out what the mechanics of the process are.
I also need a way to better record the sounds I hear in my head.
Do writers get images the same way?
A woodworker his inspiration from the pattern on a rug?
Where do Muses come from and why do we need them so?
They set us free, but how?
I am sure mine could not explain it to anyone, it just happened.
It was a by-product of another process.
Go look up 'caudate.'
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Timing is Everything
God, I know this to be the truth.
In music, in life, in love - without timing, nothing.
However
Things which are in sync, can often go out of sync.
Rhythms have little logic to them, they just feel good.
The more important the task, the more significant the need for exquisite timing.
The more the important the task is on our own personal hierarchy, the more timing must be observed.
When something is out of sync, we can rewind to the beginning (a do-over, rarely seen in this life) or we can re-evaluate our mis-steps and rectify.
Fuck it, I choose to rectify.
In music, in life, in love - without timing, nothing.
However
Things which are in sync, can often go out of sync.
Rhythms have little logic to them, they just feel good.
The more important the task, the more significant the need for exquisite timing.
The more the important the task is on our own personal hierarchy, the more timing must be observed.
When something is out of sync, we can rewind to the beginning (a do-over, rarely seen in this life) or we can re-evaluate our mis-steps and rectify.
Fuck it, I choose to rectify.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
I, I, me me I
I want...
To be a small piece of your life.
To smell you in the morning air.
To feel your hair on my shoulder.
To know you are close.
I want...
To know when the day is going well.
To fix it when it's not.
To be cool when your are heated.
To be warm when you feel cold.
My heart does all these things.
My heart does it so easily.
My hearts can do anything.
Just let me.
To be a small piece of your life.
To smell you in the morning air.
To feel your hair on my shoulder.
To know you are close.
I want...
To know when the day is going well.
To fix it when it's not.
To be cool when your are heated.
To be warm when you feel cold.
My heart does all these things.
My heart does it so easily.
My hearts can do anything.
Just let me.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Happy ThanksGiving Anyway
Whether you have things to be grateful for or even if you delude yourself into believing that you do...I sincerely offer my thanks everyday.
And I'll do it again, tomorrow.
To you and everyone,be happy and well.
And I'll do it again, tomorrow.
To you and everyone,be happy and well.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Guts Versus Brains
Some music causes a reaction on a purely visceral level.
(60-100 beats per minute/bpm will cause you to involuntarily tap your foot, dance, et cetera)
Some Led Zeppelin tunes will flat out cause me to receive a citation for exceeding the speed limit.
Other music moves us in a polar opposite direction.
Intellectually you identify with - lyrics, melody what ever the particular hook happens to be.
Joni Mitchell's lyrics or John McLaughlin's digital(fingers, not media) - [rolling my eyes] prowess.
The above two examples also blur the lines - Mitchell's voice thrills me viscerally and her lyrics stimulate me intellectually.
People that can do both - genius.
What I also find interesting is that we do not all fall under the same spell.
For some it is the Bass line that turns them on.
While for others, it's the upper registers; when the violins play, they get chills.
(interesting aside - there are certain intervals (the space between two notes) that cause their own reactions. Minor lines can make us cry while blatantly Major pieces mixed with percussion get labeled as 'rousing.')
Is this Evolution trying new 'instincts?'
Why would woodworking bring the same thrill that playing a piece perfectly brings?
And to further confuse the issue, the stimulation is 100% sex.
It is the same pleasure derived from procreation - which is why I tend to see it as Evolution taking new survival predispositions out for a spin.
Do you appreciate both?
One?
The other?
(60-100 beats per minute/bpm will cause you to involuntarily tap your foot, dance, et cetera)
Some Led Zeppelin tunes will flat out cause me to receive a citation for exceeding the speed limit.
Other music moves us in a polar opposite direction.
Intellectually you identify with - lyrics, melody what ever the particular hook happens to be.
Joni Mitchell's lyrics or John McLaughlin's digital(fingers, not media) - [rolling my eyes] prowess.
The above two examples also blur the lines - Mitchell's voice thrills me viscerally and her lyrics stimulate me intellectually.
People that can do both - genius.
What I also find interesting is that we do not all fall under the same spell.
For some it is the Bass line that turns them on.
While for others, it's the upper registers; when the violins play, they get chills.
(interesting aside - there are certain intervals (the space between two notes) that cause their own reactions. Minor lines can make us cry while blatantly Major pieces mixed with percussion get labeled as 'rousing.')
Is this Evolution trying new 'instincts?'
Why would woodworking bring the same thrill that playing a piece perfectly brings?
And to further confuse the issue, the stimulation is 100% sex.
It is the same pleasure derived from procreation - which is why I tend to see it as Evolution taking new survival predispositions out for a spin.
Do you appreciate both?
One?
The other?
Sunday, November 22, 2009
LD3
Lionel Dozier III.
Wakes have their own music.
A different rhythm.
Some move in a loping gait.
Others trot.
But they do not have the normal feel that other parties have. There is more reflection.
We tend to look at what we have versus what we want.
Some get motivated by this dynamic.
Most people, I am sorry to say, think they will always have tomorrow to fix/adjust whatever inadequacies they harbor or face.
Have a Manhattan.
Shave your eyebrows.
Be the sweetest, most kind, well educated, articulate man and you'd be Lionel.
What madness took him, I can't say.
But I fear he kept far too much of himself hidden away.
Fear for one reason or another kept him hidden from view.
Hidden from the very people that cared for him.
We loved you, pal.
You too, Gizmo.
I need to get off my ass.
Wakes have their own music.
A different rhythm.
Some move in a loping gait.
Others trot.
But they do not have the normal feel that other parties have. There is more reflection.
We tend to look at what we have versus what we want.
Some get motivated by this dynamic.
Most people, I am sorry to say, think they will always have tomorrow to fix/adjust whatever inadequacies they harbor or face.
Have a Manhattan.
Shave your eyebrows.
Be the sweetest, most kind, well educated, articulate man and you'd be Lionel.
What madness took him, I can't say.
But I fear he kept far too much of himself hidden away.
Fear for one reason or another kept him hidden from view.
Hidden from the very people that cared for him.
We loved you, pal.
You too, Gizmo.
I need to get off my ass.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Support Whatever New and Cutting Edge You Find
Local musicians need a hand.
Not so locals working the road and living the "dream" need all the help you can give them.
I recently found a Meetup group dedicated to patronizing the local bands in the Orange County area.
Bravo!
One of the best in this niche has been McCabes of Santa Monica.
http://www.mccabes.com/
They are a guitar shop that present very intimate and inexpensive shows displaying a wide variety of musical genres...from Childrens Matinées to the very edge of cutting hipness such as Jill Sobule.
Local venues such as this need the support not to mention the acts themselves.
With the advent of social networking - ala Facebook and MySpace, musicians and the venues themselves have taken to spreading the word via the viral lifeline.
We can debate the positive and negative aspects of being so plugged in at another time; suffice it to say I find it intrusive and somewhat counter productive.
But to the word for today is - Support Your Local Venue.
Not so locals working the road and living the "dream" need all the help you can give them.
I recently found a Meetup group dedicated to patronizing the local bands in the Orange County area.
Bravo!
One of the best in this niche has been McCabes of Santa Monica.
http://www.mccabes.com/
They are a guitar shop that present very intimate and inexpensive shows displaying a wide variety of musical genres...from Childrens Matinées to the very edge of cutting hipness such as Jill Sobule.
Local venues such as this need the support not to mention the acts themselves.
With the advent of social networking - ala Facebook and MySpace, musicians and the venues themselves have taken to spreading the word via the viral lifeline.
We can debate the positive and negative aspects of being so plugged in at another time; suffice it to say I find it intrusive and somewhat counter productive.
But to the word for today is - Support Your Local Venue.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Pirate Radio
Critics blow.
They pontificate and tell us what a movie lacks or doesn't and because they have a passion for films they know better than we do.
Our likes or dislikes.
Pirate Radio was a blast!
Phillip Seymour Hoffman was, for the first time that I am aware of (meaning I never liked him, he more often than not played such dark people and he did it well), a character I felt such sympathy for...he was...me?
But then so was Carl, or Simon - the movie should have been titled "The Three Faces of e."
And then the rest of the cast?
By the end of the movie you had been drawn into the little family of kooks and misfits that had drawn together by the love of music.
As they express their own love for one another, you silently lifted your glass in toast, "Rock & Roll."
Go see this!
Off to see The Kink - Since Ray Davies is not getting along with Dave, can I rightly refer to this as "going to see The Kinks?"
I think not.
But it should be a great show in any case.
They pontificate and tell us what a movie lacks or doesn't and because they have a passion for films they know better than we do.
Our likes or dislikes.
Pirate Radio was a blast!
Phillip Seymour Hoffman was, for the first time that I am aware of (meaning I never liked him, he more often than not played such dark people and he did it well), a character I felt such sympathy for...he was...me?
But then so was Carl, or Simon - the movie should have been titled "The Three Faces of e."
And then the rest of the cast?
By the end of the movie you had been drawn into the little family of kooks and misfits that had drawn together by the love of music.
As they express their own love for one another, you silently lifted your glass in toast, "Rock & Roll."
Go see this!
Off to see The Kink - Since Ray Davies is not getting along with Dave, can I rightly refer to this as "going to see The Kinks?"
I think not.
But it should be a great show in any case.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Denzel Meets August Wilson
Denzel Washington Is Broadway Bound
By PATRICK HEALY; Compiled by MELENA RYZIK
Published: November 10, 2009
Another major film star is heading to Broadway: The two-time Academy Award winner Denzel Washington will play Troy Maxson in a revival of August Wilson’s “Fences” next spring, according to an executive involved with the production. James Earl Jones played the role of Troy, a former baseball player now working as a garbage collector, in the original 1987 Broadway production of “Fences,” which won the Pulitzer Prize for drama and the Tony Award for best play that year. “Fences” was one of Wilson’s biggest commercial hits on Broadway, running for 525 performances. Mr. Washington, 54, above, last appeared on Broadway in 2005 as Brutus in “Julius Caesar,” which was a box-office smash despite mixed reviews. He received an Academy Award for best actor in “Training Day” in 2002, and for best supporting actor for “Glory” in 1990. The dates of the revival have not been confirmed, said the executive, who spoke on condition of anonymity because the producers, Carole Shorenstein Hays and Scott Rudin, had not authorized comment. Kenny Leon, who directed “A Raisin in the Sun” and two Wilson plays on Broadway, “Gem of the Ocean” and “Radio Golf,” is in negotiations to direct.
Go now, get tickets.
What are you waiting for?
If you've never seen or read August Wilson, you are in for a huge treat.
Although his stories are about the African-American experience in the Pittsburgh area from the late 1890s through the 1950s, his words evoke things all men have in common.
We all know one of the characters in his plays, and we've all had the moral dilemma his characters face. They are unique in the perspective, but universal in the appeal.
By PATRICK HEALY; Compiled by MELENA RYZIK
Published: November 10, 2009
Another major film star is heading to Broadway: The two-time Academy Award winner Denzel Washington will play Troy Maxson in a revival of August Wilson’s “Fences” next spring, according to an executive involved with the production. James Earl Jones played the role of Troy, a former baseball player now working as a garbage collector, in the original 1987 Broadway production of “Fences,” which won the Pulitzer Prize for drama and the Tony Award for best play that year. “Fences” was one of Wilson’s biggest commercial hits on Broadway, running for 525 performances. Mr. Washington, 54, above, last appeared on Broadway in 2005 as Brutus in “Julius Caesar,” which was a box-office smash despite mixed reviews. He received an Academy Award for best actor in “Training Day” in 2002, and for best supporting actor for “Glory” in 1990. The dates of the revival have not been confirmed, said the executive, who spoke on condition of anonymity because the producers, Carole Shorenstein Hays and Scott Rudin, had not authorized comment. Kenny Leon, who directed “A Raisin in the Sun” and two Wilson plays on Broadway, “Gem of the Ocean” and “Radio Golf,” is in negotiations to direct.
Go now, get tickets.
What are you waiting for?
If you've never seen or read August Wilson, you are in for a huge treat.
Although his stories are about the African-American experience in the Pittsburgh area from the late 1890s through the 1950s, his words evoke things all men have in common.
We all know one of the characters in his plays, and we've all had the moral dilemma his characters face. They are unique in the perspective, but universal in the appeal.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
I Think
I think about you all the time,
I think about you night & day.
I think about you even more,
When you have absolutely nothing to say.
I know that when you’re there, everything’s alright,
I know when you’re not in the mood I plan to stay out of sight.
And even when you are not there,
I hear your voice anyway, everywhere.
It's the price that I pay to have a piece of you today.
It's the price that I pay to have a piece of you today.
We ran up the heighest peaks,
And fireworks rained down.
We lay in each others arms with no one else around.
I looked into those smiling eyes,
And then and there my heart said goodbye.
I knew I had no say in it.
It was only mine to play it.
I know that when you’re there, everything’s alright,
I know when you’re not in the mood I plan to stay out of sight.
And even when you are not there,
I hear your voice anyway, everywhere.
It's the price that I pay to have a piece of you today.
It's the price that I pay to have a piece of you today.
I think about you night & day.
I think about you even more,
When you have absolutely nothing to say.
I know that when you’re there, everything’s alright,
I know when you’re not in the mood I plan to stay out of sight.
And even when you are not there,
I hear your voice anyway, everywhere.
It's the price that I pay to have a piece of you today.
It's the price that I pay to have a piece of you today.
We ran up the heighest peaks,
And fireworks rained down.
We lay in each others arms with no one else around.
I looked into those smiling eyes,
And then and there my heart said goodbye.
I knew I had no say in it.
It was only mine to play it.
I know that when you’re there, everything’s alright,
I know when you’re not in the mood I plan to stay out of sight.
And even when you are not there,
I hear your voice anyway, everywhere.
It's the price that I pay to have a piece of you today.
It's the price that I pay to have a piece of you today.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Carole King and James Taylor
James Taylor and Carole King To Start Tour In Australia
by Paul Cashmere - November 11 2009
James Taylor and Carole King will team up for a world tour in March 2010 and it will begin in Melbourne, Australia.
Taylor has put the first dates up on his official website with Australia, New Zealand, Japan and Los Angeles getting the first view of the shows.
King and Taylor go back to the 70’s when he recorded her ‘You’ve Got A Friend’ and had a massive global hit with the song. Carole King also recorded the song for ‘Tapestry’, the biggest selling album of her career.
The tour is dubbed ‘The Troubadour Reunion’, a nod to the Los Angeles nightclub where not only Taylor and King made their name, but also artists like Elton John, Eagles and Joni Mitchell.
The Troubadour was the place when a drunk John Lennon and Harry Nilsson were removed for heckling the Smothers Brothers.
In 2007, James Taylor and Carole King played a series of shows to mark the 50th anniversary of the iconic venue at 9081 Santa Monica Blvd.
The “Troubadour Reunion’ tour dates are:
March 27, Melbourne, Rod Laver Arena
March 31, Brisbane, Entertainment Centre
April 3, Hunter Valle, Hope Arena
April 6, Sydney, Entertainment Centre
April 10, Auckland, Vector Arena
April 14, Tokyo, Budokan
April 16, Tokyo, Budokan
May 14, Los Angeles, Hollywood Bowl
Tickets are available $116-$118 a piece.
http://tickets.mycityrocks.com/ResultsGeneral.aspx?kwds=James+Taylor+%26+Carole+King+Los+Angeles+Hollywood+Bowl+California+CA+Tickets+Cheap+Show+Discount
See you there!
by Paul Cashmere - November 11 2009
James Taylor and Carole King will team up for a world tour in March 2010 and it will begin in Melbourne, Australia.
Taylor has put the first dates up on his official website with Australia, New Zealand, Japan and Los Angeles getting the first view of the shows.
King and Taylor go back to the 70’s when he recorded her ‘You’ve Got A Friend’ and had a massive global hit with the song. Carole King also recorded the song for ‘Tapestry’, the biggest selling album of her career.
The tour is dubbed ‘The Troubadour Reunion’, a nod to the Los Angeles nightclub where not only Taylor and King made their name, but also artists like Elton John, Eagles and Joni Mitchell.
The Troubadour was the place when a drunk John Lennon and Harry Nilsson were removed for heckling the Smothers Brothers.
In 2007, James Taylor and Carole King played a series of shows to mark the 50th anniversary of the iconic venue at 9081 Santa Monica Blvd.
The “Troubadour Reunion’ tour dates are:
March 27, Melbourne, Rod Laver Arena
March 31, Brisbane, Entertainment Centre
April 3, Hunter Valle, Hope Arena
April 6, Sydney, Entertainment Centre
April 10, Auckland, Vector Arena
April 14, Tokyo, Budokan
April 16, Tokyo, Budokan
May 14, Los Angeles, Hollywood Bowl
Tickets are available $116-$118 a piece.
http://tickets.mycityrocks.com/ResultsGeneral.aspx?kwds=James+Taylor+%26+Carole+King+Los+Angeles+Hollywood+Bowl+California+CA+Tickets+Cheap+Show+Discount
See you there!
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
No time wasted,
In pursuit.
No time reveled in,
Wayward things.
An eye awake,
Can be a nasty thing.
Better to sleep,
Better to dream.
Better to share,
To be half a pair.
A hand in a glove,
Me, in love.
Be careful what you wish for,
I've been told that before.
I only hope it's true,
Keep me from the wrong dream.
Better to share,
To be half a pair.
A hand in a glove,
Me, in love.
In pursuit.
No time reveled in,
Wayward things.
An eye awake,
Can be a nasty thing.
Better to sleep,
Better to dream.
Better to share,
To be half a pair.
A hand in a glove,
Me, in love.
Be careful what you wish for,
I've been told that before.
I only hope it's true,
Keep me from the wrong dream.
Better to share,
To be half a pair.
A hand in a glove,
Me, in love.
My Mind's Mixdown
Part of what makes up the symphony I hear is the mix down my mind performs.
If someone I dislike tells me the sun is shining outside, I'll go check for myself.
If someone I love tells me the same thing, I wonder why the sun is out.
I look for the 'truth' behind the words I hear.
Why is it that I assume the words I hear are not the God's Honest Truth?
That they were somehow crafted and shaped for my ears.
My mind will not leave well enough alone.
Words or music.
I am always analyzing, looking for deeper meaning...why?
Is it my eternal optimism?
If a friend says something, that I accept at face value?
But once there is deep emotion invested the search for meaning starts.
I realize how this confounds and bothers some.
It does allow me to explore songs and lyrics that some will accept at face value and in the process miss the inherent truth.
Books don't have this effect upon me.
I wonder why?
I just assume I know what the author intended.
Or art?
It's the same - I accept my own feelings as the intention of the artist.
Is this the tortured artist?
Am I bipolar? Was Van Gogh?
Or is this somehow a normal occurrence between humans once feelings become involved?
Someone tell me, in plain words, please.
If someone I dislike tells me the sun is shining outside, I'll go check for myself.
If someone I love tells me the same thing, I wonder why the sun is out.
I look for the 'truth' behind the words I hear.
Why is it that I assume the words I hear are not the God's Honest Truth?
That they were somehow crafted and shaped for my ears.
My mind will not leave well enough alone.
Words or music.
I am always analyzing, looking for deeper meaning...why?
Is it my eternal optimism?
If a friend says something, that I accept at face value?
But once there is deep emotion invested the search for meaning starts.
I realize how this confounds and bothers some.
It does allow me to explore songs and lyrics that some will accept at face value and in the process miss the inherent truth.
Books don't have this effect upon me.
I wonder why?
I just assume I know what the author intended.
Or art?
It's the same - I accept my own feelings as the intention of the artist.
Is this the tortured artist?
Am I bipolar? Was Van Gogh?
Or is this somehow a normal occurrence between humans once feelings become involved?
Someone tell me, in plain words, please.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
The Simpler, The Better
Bob Dylan - Knockin On Heavens Door
Mama, take this badge off of me
I can't use it anymore.
It's gettin' dark, too dark for me to see
I feel like I'm knockin' on heaven's door.
Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door
Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door
Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door
Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door
Mama, put my guns in the ground
I can't shoot them anymore.
That long black cloud is comin' down
I feel like I'm knockin' on heaven's door.
Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door
Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door
Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door
Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door
----------------------------------
So what's this song saying to you?
Is it just a cowboys' lament as he lays dying?
Is it love of which he cries?
It is so simple in the words and melody - ah, but it's pure Grace.
Bobby has a way with the words, doesn't he?
Just as any artist can invoke different feeling in different people, Mr. Dylan can make you taste many emotions with something so simple it defies you to leave it alone.
----------------------
Cry Baby - The Beatles
Cry baby cry
Make your mother sigh
She's old enough to know better.
The king of Marigold was in the kitchen
Cooking breakfast for the queen
The queen was in the parlour
Playing piano for the children of the king.
Cry baby cry
Make your mother sigh
She's old enough to know better
So cry baby cry.
The king was in the garden
Picking flowers for a friend who came to play
The queen was in the playroom
Painting pictures for the childrens holiday.
Cry baby cry
Make your mother sigh
She's old enough to know better
So cry baby cry.
The duchess of Kircaldy always smiling
And arriving late for tea (George hits a note with strong vibrato)
The duke was having problems
With a message at the local bird and bee. (Now George plays a four note sting)
Cry baby cry
Make your mother sigh
She's old enough to know better
So cry baby cry.
At twelve o'clock a meeting round the table
For a seance in the dark
With voices out of nowhere
Put on specially by the children for a lark.
Cry baby cry
Make your mother sigh
She's old enough to know better
So cry baby cry cry cry cry baby
Make your mother sigh.
She's old enough to know better
Cry baby cry
cry cry cry
Make your mother sigh
She's old enough to know better (The harmonies here rival any Beachboys or CSNY)
So cry baby cry.
Can you take me back where I came from?
Can you take me back?
Can you take me back where I came from?
Brother can you take me back?
Can you take me back?
Oooh, can you take me where I came from?
Can you take me back?
Since the words are eloquent on their own in this case, it's the music that must simplify.
George plays all of five notes...they draw chills.
They come towards the end of the tune as the tension has been steadily building.
What a masterful use of both the word smiths craft and that of composer and performer.
Mama, take this badge off of me
I can't use it anymore.
It's gettin' dark, too dark for me to see
I feel like I'm knockin' on heaven's door.
Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door
Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door
Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door
Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door
Mama, put my guns in the ground
I can't shoot them anymore.
That long black cloud is comin' down
I feel like I'm knockin' on heaven's door.
Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door
Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door
Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door
Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door
----------------------------------
So what's this song saying to you?
Is it just a cowboys' lament as he lays dying?
Is it love of which he cries?
It is so simple in the words and melody - ah, but it's pure Grace.
Bobby has a way with the words, doesn't he?
Just as any artist can invoke different feeling in different people, Mr. Dylan can make you taste many emotions with something so simple it defies you to leave it alone.
----------------------
Cry Baby - The Beatles
Cry baby cry
Make your mother sigh
She's old enough to know better.
The king of Marigold was in the kitchen
Cooking breakfast for the queen
The queen was in the parlour
Playing piano for the children of the king.
Cry baby cry
Make your mother sigh
She's old enough to know better
So cry baby cry.
The king was in the garden
Picking flowers for a friend who came to play
The queen was in the playroom
Painting pictures for the childrens holiday.
Cry baby cry
Make your mother sigh
She's old enough to know better
So cry baby cry.
The duchess of Kircaldy always smiling
And arriving late for tea (George hits a note with strong vibrato)
The duke was having problems
With a message at the local bird and bee. (Now George plays a four note sting)
Cry baby cry
Make your mother sigh
She's old enough to know better
So cry baby cry.
At twelve o'clock a meeting round the table
For a seance in the dark
With voices out of nowhere
Put on specially by the children for a lark.
Cry baby cry
Make your mother sigh
She's old enough to know better
So cry baby cry cry cry cry baby
Make your mother sigh.
She's old enough to know better
Cry baby cry
cry cry cry
Make your mother sigh
She's old enough to know better (The harmonies here rival any Beachboys or CSNY)
So cry baby cry.
Can you take me back where I came from?
Can you take me back?
Can you take me back where I came from?
Brother can you take me back?
Can you take me back?
Oooh, can you take me where I came from?
Can you take me back?
Since the words are eloquent on their own in this case, it's the music that must simplify.
George plays all of five notes...they draw chills.
They come towards the end of the tune as the tension has been steadily building.
What a masterful use of both the word smiths craft and that of composer and performer.
The Stars Influence Upon My Work
http://www.creators.com/lifestylefeatures/horoscopes/horoscopes-by-holiday.html
If you asked me five or more years ago if I thought the position of the stars in any way could be interpreted or read I would have summarily laughed you out of bounds.
It was not open for discussion.
It was just one of those truths.
And besides, my crazy brother and sister in-law were rabid adherents.
Then one day, someone introduced my eyes to Ms Mathis.
Yeah, more often than not her pronouncements are very generic and vague, incredibly similar to the many Astrologers out there.
However, Holiday has a funny knack of really hitting solid home runs...she's batting in the 400s easily.
And the amount of specifics is uncanny at times.
I read her column everyday.
In other ways the stars have had a very direct influence. I was very much an avid amateur astronomer as a kid.
I had a few telescopes and spent many days tracking the sun, the moon, various stars and nebula.
Orion and I had a special relationship.
He told me when Winter had arrived to N.J
For some reason I also felt a clarity of thought while he was prominent in the sky. Maybe it was just the humid Summers had dulled my wit and the cold, crisp air lifted the veil?
Usually the most productive seasons are Spring and Fall. The transition awakens something that had lain dormant.
More tunes or lyrics tend to flow from me during these times.
Which brings me to this.
Bom yeoreum gaeul gyeoul geurigo bom
In English, "Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter... and Spring"
A wonderful look at the passage of time, the troubles all people face within the life we occupy and the cycle of Hope and Renewal that follows Decline and Death.
If you have a chance to see it, do so.
G'night
If you asked me five or more years ago if I thought the position of the stars in any way could be interpreted or read I would have summarily laughed you out of bounds.
It was not open for discussion.
It was just one of those truths.
And besides, my crazy brother and sister in-law were rabid adherents.
Then one day, someone introduced my eyes to Ms Mathis.
Yeah, more often than not her pronouncements are very generic and vague, incredibly similar to the many Astrologers out there.
However, Holiday has a funny knack of really hitting solid home runs...she's batting in the 400s easily.
And the amount of specifics is uncanny at times.
I read her column everyday.
In other ways the stars have had a very direct influence. I was very much an avid amateur astronomer as a kid.
I had a few telescopes and spent many days tracking the sun, the moon, various stars and nebula.
Orion and I had a special relationship.
He told me when Winter had arrived to N.J
For some reason I also felt a clarity of thought while he was prominent in the sky. Maybe it was just the humid Summers had dulled my wit and the cold, crisp air lifted the veil?
Usually the most productive seasons are Spring and Fall. The transition awakens something that had lain dormant.
More tunes or lyrics tend to flow from me during these times.
Which brings me to this.
Bom yeoreum gaeul gyeoul geurigo bom
In English, "Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter... and Spring"
A wonderful look at the passage of time, the troubles all people face within the life we occupy and the cycle of Hope and Renewal that follows Decline and Death.
If you have a chance to see it, do so.
G'night
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Unfair - I Call Foul
Little Child - The Beatles
Little child, little child,
Little child, won't you dance with me?
I'm so sad and lonely,
Baby take a chance with me.
If you want someone
To make you feel so fine,
Then we'll have some fun
When you're mine, all mine,
So come, come on, come on.
Little child, little child,
Little child, won't you dance with me?
I'm so sad and lonely,
Baby take a chance with me.
When you're by my side,
You're the only one,
Don't run and hide,
Just come on, come on,
So come on, come on, come on.
John, Paul, George and Ringo could be as emo ( to use the vernacular) as they wished and yet were never labeled as such. There was a coolness that detached them from the pain they sung about.
If anyone today talks about how, "sad and lonely," they are, they are labeled.
Youth today is far more open in many respects.
They can talk to one another openly about their masturbation preferences - to do so in my day would have been anathema. We kept mum about such "private" things.
But the same dilemma between man and woman exists. No magical solution has been found.
So has the subject matter of emotions has been taken off the table? The answer is a qualified, "yes and no."
Even music is tainted by this new sensibility.
I love John Mayer...Amos Lee...Richard Hawley.
It seems I love "chick music."
One must be strong enough to admit they like music that is deemed effeminate.
I'm calling foul.
I am very much a man, but I cried when Old Yella was shot and I called after Shane as well.
Doesn't make me a weak.
Just aware of my feelings.
Screw the rest of the world, my feelings do not deserve to be suborned to the 'sensibilities' of the rest of the world. I have been paddling against the current for too long to stop now.
It takes a strong man to cry.
http://www.philippinenews.com/article.php?id=3495
"In the survey of 2,000 people, very few had seen their father cry, compared to twice as many today. Seventy five percent of men polled considered crying in public acceptable. Ron Bracey, clinical psychologist concurred with the survey results."
With one hand God gives and with the other...She changes the rules of the game.
Play safe, ladies.
Little child, little child,
Little child, won't you dance with me?
I'm so sad and lonely,
Baby take a chance with me.
If you want someone
To make you feel so fine,
Then we'll have some fun
When you're mine, all mine,
So come, come on, come on.
Little child, little child,
Little child, won't you dance with me?
I'm so sad and lonely,
Baby take a chance with me.
When you're by my side,
You're the only one,
Don't run and hide,
Just come on, come on,
So come on, come on, come on.
John, Paul, George and Ringo could be as emo ( to use the vernacular) as they wished and yet were never labeled as such. There was a coolness that detached them from the pain they sung about.
If anyone today talks about how, "sad and lonely," they are, they are labeled.
Youth today is far more open in many respects.
They can talk to one another openly about their masturbation preferences - to do so in my day would have been anathema. We kept mum about such "private" things.
But the same dilemma between man and woman exists. No magical solution has been found.
So has the subject matter of emotions has been taken off the table? The answer is a qualified, "yes and no."
Even music is tainted by this new sensibility.
I love John Mayer...Amos Lee...Richard Hawley.
It seems I love "chick music."
One must be strong enough to admit they like music that is deemed effeminate.
I'm calling foul.
I am very much a man, but I cried when Old Yella was shot and I called after Shane as well.
Doesn't make me a weak.
Just aware of my feelings.
Screw the rest of the world, my feelings do not deserve to be suborned to the 'sensibilities' of the rest of the world. I have been paddling against the current for too long to stop now.
It takes a strong man to cry.
http://www.philippinenews.com/article.php?id=3495
"In the survey of 2,000 people, very few had seen their father cry, compared to twice as many today. Seventy five percent of men polled considered crying in public acceptable. Ron Bracey, clinical psychologist concurred with the survey results."
With one hand God gives and with the other...She changes the rules of the game.
Play safe, ladies.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Timing is More Than Everything
Prior to the 1992 Rodney King Riots in Los Angeles, I was playing "House Burning Down," for a week straight.
For those unaware, "House Burning Down," was Jimis' tribute/rebuke of the 1967 Watts Riots.
For some reason (can you blame me?) I felt in some very small way responsible.
In 1962 just prior to the NYC Blackout I was at my grandparents apartment in Queens, flipping through the channels on the television. When the room went dark, my Grandfather yelled at me for blowing "the fuse."
Today, there is a brush fire, not ten miles from my house.
Want to hazard a guess as to what I have been playing recently?
"Hot Fun," Stanley Clarke.
God/Mother Nature has one heckuva sense of humor.
Next on my playlist will be "Peaceful Easy Feeling," "A Good Feeling to Know," and "She'd Rather Be With Me."
Let's see how this works out.
For those unaware, "House Burning Down," was Jimis' tribute/rebuke of the 1967 Watts Riots.
For some reason (can you blame me?) I felt in some very small way responsible.
In 1962 just prior to the NYC Blackout I was at my grandparents apartment in Queens, flipping through the channels on the television. When the room went dark, my Grandfather yelled at me for blowing "the fuse."
Today, there is a brush fire, not ten miles from my house.
Want to hazard a guess as to what I have been playing recently?
"Hot Fun," Stanley Clarke.
God/Mother Nature has one heckuva sense of humor.
Next on my playlist will be "Peaceful Easy Feeling," "A Good Feeling to Know," and "She'd Rather Be With Me."
Let's see how this works out.
Timing Is Everything
Sometimes you find you are in sync with the entire universe. And then other times you can't seem to tie your own shoes.
I was driving to the store when I turned on the local NPR affiliate, KCRW.
They were playing a tune by Daniel Merriweather. I'd never heard of him before. I am nowhere near the cutting edge of hip. But I try.
The song spoke to me. Not because it is beautifully written prose, nor because of the melody...usually they are the things I notice.
The reason this song called to me was timing.
The mood I am immersed in at the time just fit the lyrics so well, it stopped me in my tracks.
Water and a Flame - Daniel Merriweather
Seven days has gone so fast,
I really thought the pain would pass.
It's been nearly an hour,
since I thought of you.
But your not answering the phone,
I'd settle for a busy tone,
At least that I'd know that you're okay.
A girl like you ain't meant to go away.
Oh...
Now you're gone,
Theres nothing else I want.
Now that it's over,
There's nothing else I want.
What have I done,
looks like I was wrong.
Is everything really meant to change,
I guess we're like water and a flame.
water and a flame..
Adele:
I'm tired of this empty house,
I need a drink to get me out.
A couple more til I forget your name.
I saw a boy that looked like you,
I didn't know quite what to do,
It took a power of will to break my stare.
I realized what I wanted wasn't there.
Now you're gone,
Theres nothing else I want.
Now that it's over,
There's nothing else I want.
Is everything really meant to change,
I guess we're like water and a flame.
Water and a flame...
Daniel:
If you see me coming...
Adele:
I look away, I look away...
Daniel:
And if your mind is made up...
Adele:
I look away, I will look away...
Daniel:
If your worry bound
Adele:
I'm okay, I'm okay, yes I am
Daniel:
All this sorrow and this pain,
is going to go away
Daniel & Adele:
Now you're gone,
There's nothing else I want.
Now that it's over,
There's nothing else I want.
What have I done,
looks like I was wrong.
Is everything really meant to change,
I guess we're like water and a flame.
Water and a flame...
I was driving to the store when I turned on the local NPR affiliate, KCRW.
They were playing a tune by Daniel Merriweather. I'd never heard of him before. I am nowhere near the cutting edge of hip. But I try.
The song spoke to me. Not because it is beautifully written prose, nor because of the melody...usually they are the things I notice.
The reason this song called to me was timing.
The mood I am immersed in at the time just fit the lyrics so well, it stopped me in my tracks.
Water and a Flame - Daniel Merriweather
Seven days has gone so fast,
I really thought the pain would pass.
It's been nearly an hour,
since I thought of you.
But your not answering the phone,
I'd settle for a busy tone,
At least that I'd know that you're okay.
A girl like you ain't meant to go away.
Oh...
Now you're gone,
Theres nothing else I want.
Now that it's over,
There's nothing else I want.
What have I done,
looks like I was wrong.
Is everything really meant to change,
I guess we're like water and a flame.
water and a flame..
Adele:
I'm tired of this empty house,
I need a drink to get me out.
A couple more til I forget your name.
I saw a boy that looked like you,
I didn't know quite what to do,
It took a power of will to break my stare.
I realized what I wanted wasn't there.
Now you're gone,
Theres nothing else I want.
Now that it's over,
There's nothing else I want.
Is everything really meant to change,
I guess we're like water and a flame.
Water and a flame...
Daniel:
If you see me coming...
Adele:
I look away, I look away...
Daniel:
And if your mind is made up...
Adele:
I look away, I will look away...
Daniel:
If your worry bound
Adele:
I'm okay, I'm okay, yes I am
Daniel:
All this sorrow and this pain,
is going to go away
Daniel & Adele:
Now you're gone,
There's nothing else I want.
Now that it's over,
There's nothing else I want.
What have I done,
looks like I was wrong.
Is everything really meant to change,
I guess we're like water and a flame.
Water and a flame...
Monday, November 2, 2009
We'll Go From Madness Up...I Hope
I hear music in my head. White noise can be a symphony.
A yawn can be a beautiful passage.
It is both blessing and curse - obviously.
I have no true peace.
I also feel everything emotionally.
I can be moved by the simplest things.
Does music move you? Can the lyrics make you cry?
I recently saw the Fab Faux (go see them, if you've not) and was moved many times during the show.
Didn't help that I knew three of the band members from high school days.
Nor the subject matter - The Beatles.
It was a great show.
Music is a mistress. And like any demanding person, Music can both elate and depress.
There are rules to follow. Some make little sense other than to confound and confuse.
Others are intuitive and need no explanation.
----------------
I believe I've reached madness,
I think I've crossed the line.
I know I'm suffering heartbreak,
For the very first time.
-----------------
My lyric writing, as you can see...leaves much to be desired. My degree and most of my passion is in composition. But I am a would be poet. So I scribble here and there for no ones pleasure but mine.
I have henceforth decided to share it with anyone interested.
What the hell, no cares and I'll be exactly where I sit now.
If you haven't guessed, this is a 'blue' period for me. I am crying constantly.
I am a schmuck with a message.
Enjoy.
e
---------
There are times inside my heart,
When the way is cold and dark.
There are days when I just laugh in joy at the rain.
Deep inside my heart there is sunshine and smiles,
Inside my heart is my muse and all her charming wiles.
There is mirth and sadness I am torn betwixt the two.
My heart gets filled with gladness and for that it's all worth while.
Inside my heart...there is a smile.
A yawn can be a beautiful passage.
It is both blessing and curse - obviously.
I have no true peace.
I also feel everything emotionally.
I can be moved by the simplest things.
Does music move you? Can the lyrics make you cry?
I recently saw the Fab Faux (go see them, if you've not) and was moved many times during the show.
Didn't help that I knew three of the band members from high school days.
Nor the subject matter - The Beatles.
It was a great show.
Music is a mistress. And like any demanding person, Music can both elate and depress.
There are rules to follow. Some make little sense other than to confound and confuse.
Others are intuitive and need no explanation.
----------------
I believe I've reached madness,
I think I've crossed the line.
I know I'm suffering heartbreak,
For the very first time.
-----------------
My lyric writing, as you can see...leaves much to be desired. My degree and most of my passion is in composition. But I am a would be poet. So I scribble here and there for no ones pleasure but mine.
I have henceforth decided to share it with anyone interested.
What the hell, no cares and I'll be exactly where I sit now.
If you haven't guessed, this is a 'blue' period for me. I am crying constantly.
I am a schmuck with a message.
Enjoy.
e
---------
There are times inside my heart,
When the way is cold and dark.
There are days when I just laugh in joy at the rain.
Deep inside my heart there is sunshine and smiles,
Inside my heart is my muse and all her charming wiles.
There is mirth and sadness I am torn betwixt the two.
My heart gets filled with gladness and for that it's all worth while.
Inside my heart...there is a smile.
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