Zero Bldg.
Thursday, July 13, 2006
Mixtape
7/8/06
Side A
Elvis Costello - "(What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace, Love and Understanding" For the duration that this song is playing, there is no better song in the universe. Oh sure, there's other music out there, but the stuttering toms, Costello's youthful sneer, "where are the strong and who are the trusted?" wipe out any memory of anything else.
The Constantines - "Some Party" There's something about walking around Atlanta with the Cons filling my ears that makes me feel ten feet tall.
The Clash - "Rudie Can't Fail" You been drinkin' brew for breakfast.
Mates of State - "Fraud in the '80s" Heard this on a Barsuk comp, sounds like the New Pornographers, but the little choppy guitar noises at the beginning are right out of Shiner's "Giant's Chair."
The The - "This Is The Day" This song was written for me, I'm convinced of it.
J Dilla - "It's Like That" I can't remember the names of the two MCs on this track, but it's from the Welcome to Detroit album JD put together. There's a mural en memoriam of JD at the old Lenny's Bar here in Atlanta. Now that they're moving, I wonder what's going to happen to it.
Mission of Burma - "2wice" Their new album is mindblowingly loud, mindblowingly good. I like how the dainty la la las fit right into the mix.
Moby Grape - "Omaha" I shoulda followed this with the Counting Crows' song of the same name, but I don't have that on CD anymore. Shame on me.
Supergrass - "Evening of the Day" If only for the Spinal Tap reference. I cut it off before it shifts to that long meandering outro.
Seam - "The Prizefighters" From Touch and Go's Lounge Ax Defense comp. Distorted melodic rock with buried vocals that folks from Chicago and the Midwest seem to be so good at. I've heard it called "post-grunge," but I don't think I know of a stupider name for a sub-genre.
Television - "Days" I coupled this with...
R.E.M - "Talk About The Passion" because they sound remarkably similar.
Shellac - "Killers" "I SIDE WITH THE DEFENDERS!"
side b forthcoming.
7/8/06
Side A
Elvis Costello - "(What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace, Love and Understanding" For the duration that this song is playing, there is no better song in the universe. Oh sure, there's other music out there, but the stuttering toms, Costello's youthful sneer, "where are the strong and who are the trusted?" wipe out any memory of anything else.
The Constantines - "Some Party" There's something about walking around Atlanta with the Cons filling my ears that makes me feel ten feet tall.
The Clash - "Rudie Can't Fail" You been drinkin' brew for breakfast.
Mates of State - "Fraud in the '80s" Heard this on a Barsuk comp, sounds like the New Pornographers, but the little choppy guitar noises at the beginning are right out of Shiner's "Giant's Chair."
The The - "This Is The Day" This song was written for me, I'm convinced of it.
J Dilla - "It's Like That" I can't remember the names of the two MCs on this track, but it's from the Welcome to Detroit album JD put together. There's a mural en memoriam of JD at the old Lenny's Bar here in Atlanta. Now that they're moving, I wonder what's going to happen to it.
Mission of Burma - "2wice" Their new album is mindblowingly loud, mindblowingly good. I like how the dainty la la las fit right into the mix.
Moby Grape - "Omaha" I shoulda followed this with the Counting Crows' song of the same name, but I don't have that on CD anymore. Shame on me.
Supergrass - "Evening of the Day" If only for the Spinal Tap reference. I cut it off before it shifts to that long meandering outro.
Seam - "The Prizefighters" From Touch and Go's Lounge Ax Defense comp. Distorted melodic rock with buried vocals that folks from Chicago and the Midwest seem to be so good at. I've heard it called "post-grunge," but I don't think I know of a stupider name for a sub-genre.
Television - "Days" I coupled this with...
R.E.M - "Talk About The Passion" because they sound remarkably similar.
Shellac - "Killers" "I SIDE WITH THE DEFENDERS!"
side b forthcoming.
Sunday, March 19, 2006
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
An Interstate Can Be An Eloquent Statement of Political Boundaries
Recorded a demo of a new song tonight, it's posted up on MySpace, just follow that link up there. Drums performed by my Casio SA-20 on the "Rock 1" rhythm setting. Three mics were used in the process of recording: the trusty Peavy i, my brother's Audio Technica 822 stereo mic, and a splendid little Radio Shack 33-1067 which is fast becoming my favorite vocal mic. Vocals were run through a 25 watt Fender Frontman for some sproingy reverb. I did a couple vox tracks, one with the PVi and one with the RS33. Guitar was played through the monolithic Seymore Duncan/Rodgers combo. This too was double tracked.
Everything recorded into/mixed with Audacity.
So yeah, that's what I did with my evening. Enjoy!
Recorded a demo of a new song tonight, it's posted up on MySpace, just follow that link up there. Drums performed by my Casio SA-20 on the "Rock 1" rhythm setting. Three mics were used in the process of recording: the trusty Peavy i, my brother's Audio Technica 822 stereo mic, and a splendid little Radio Shack 33-1067 which is fast becoming my favorite vocal mic. Vocals were run through a 25 watt Fender Frontman for some sproingy reverb. I did a couple vox tracks, one with the PVi and one with the RS33. Guitar was played through the monolithic Seymore Duncan/Rodgers combo. This too was double tracked.
Everything recorded into/mixed with Audacity.
So yeah, that's what I did with my evening. Enjoy!
Saturday, February 11, 2006
I was just upstairs watching Nick practicing Gershwin's An American In Paris, which he's doing for...whatever the end-of-the-school-year recital thing is called. He's really quite amazing to watch. There's so much going on in learning a big piece like that which I can hardly fathom. I remember hearing him talk about his teacher going over fingering with him--he played part of a piece in a lesson and his teacher, cooly studying him, asked why he played it that way. Nick hesitated for a split second..."okay, you don't know," he chuckled and showed him an easier way to arrange his fingers on the keys. This is something I've never considered even though as a guitarist, I do it all the time. Synapses firing faster than I can move: left index to A string, fourth fret. Only I'm hopelessly slapdash in comparison. Nick practices a piece for months, learning it inside and out until what finger goes to what key is no longer a decision, it's muscle memory. It's intriguing hearing him through the ceiling, going over a section, skipping a few pages and going through another section containing the same theme like he was jogging the steps at the Georgia Dome. Slowing down, dropping the bass clef, repetition, repetition repetition. Until the night of the concert when he ascends the stage and nails it like he always seems to do. Being there for the performance is always amazing, but being around for the training is truly extraordinary.
Monday, December 12, 2005
I got a subpoena of jury duty in the mail today. Only, it was from the Superior Court of Baldwin County. Obviously, I owed someone a phone call.
So I notified the clerk's office that I was no longer a resident of Balwin Co. and in fact hadn't been in a year. The ish laid in my voter reg. status still pinning me to Milledgeville since I haven't had cause to change it. Now I do, as I have no interest in getting up at 7 AM on January 9th to drive to Milledgeville to sit in traverse court. I'm starting school that day.
In other news, I took my last exam of the quarter today. It took about twenty minutes. Then I went downtown and had a burger at Walton's. It was quite rewarding.
I haven't made with the updates in like a hundred months, so here's what's happening with me now:
*I work at Stone Mountain as an audio tech. I'll be there until the 30th when the season ends.
*I have a new hat:
So I notified the clerk's office that I was no longer a resident of Balwin Co. and in fact hadn't been in a year. The ish laid in my voter reg. status still pinning me to Milledgeville since I haven't had cause to change it. Now I do, as I have no interest in getting up at 7 AM on January 9th to drive to Milledgeville to sit in traverse court. I'm starting school that day.
In other news, I took my last exam of the quarter today. It took about twenty minutes. Then I went downtown and had a burger at Walton's. It was quite rewarding.
I haven't made with the updates in like a hundred months, so here's what's happening with me now:
*I work at Stone Mountain as an audio tech. I'll be there until the 30th when the season ends.
*I have a new hat:
Monday, December 05, 2005
An Obvious Valentine Conceit
Against my better judgment, I
took the old bow from above
the mantle, gave it
to you.
Unloaded cord strained
behind your forefingers, pulled
taut to cheek, released
with a snap and sent
slipping, spinning
from your grasp,
your arm to shoulder to chest
rattled in sympathy. We chuckled.
I went to the kitchen for drinks.
My head in the cooler, I heard
your laugh ride atop
terrible scratching, torn up
chords, serrated sounds.
Bottle in each hand, I watched you
tear the limb across the strings
of my guitar. “Everything you listen to
sounds like this.
We should start a band” you said
and fell beside yourself
on the couch.
The bow skittered to the floor and
I joined you on the sofa.
Bottles at our lips, we imbibed
without the weapon.
From the necks of our drinks
we kept furtive watch over the
thin crescent of elm still
on the floor. “Do you
even have arrows for that
thing?”
“Sure.”
“Don’t you worry?”
At this I smiled, took your
soft hand in mine. “About
you?”
Eyebrow raised, a look of purpose
overtook your smile, you locked
on the bow, grimacing,
empty bottle fumbling, then
an arrow notched
pinched in your hand.
And you stood over me
trajectory trained in
at my heart. “Where
did this come from?”
I looked from the steel
tip to your face. “I thought you
brought it over here.”
Tremors of laughter roiled
through you. Screaming giggles
connected us and I
lay helpless, smiling
at your shaking
drunken mercy.
I could only laugh
as the missile plunged through me
pinned me to the couch.
Now
I will drink as you push
the arrow through my chest and
out my shoulder, spicing the blood
soaking deltas into couch
and clothes. Let you
plug the holes with pills
from your purse. Sobbed
apologies met
only with smiles
from sobered eyes and
a request not to twist the thing
so much as it bores on through.
Under your control—one
long steady pull
on arrow
and bottle—do I
trust your tenderness
and the hardening
of my blood.
Against my better judgment, I
took the old bow from above
the mantle, gave it
to you.
Unloaded cord strained
behind your forefingers, pulled
taut to cheek, released
with a snap and sent
slipping, spinning
from your grasp,
your arm to shoulder to chest
rattled in sympathy. We chuckled.
I went to the kitchen for drinks.
My head in the cooler, I heard
your laugh ride atop
terrible scratching, torn up
chords, serrated sounds.
Bottle in each hand, I watched you
tear the limb across the strings
of my guitar. “Everything you listen to
sounds like this.
We should start a band” you said
and fell beside yourself
on the couch.
The bow skittered to the floor and
I joined you on the sofa.
Bottles at our lips, we imbibed
without the weapon.
From the necks of our drinks
we kept furtive watch over the
thin crescent of elm still
on the floor. “Do you
even have arrows for that
thing?”
“Sure.”
“Don’t you worry?”
At this I smiled, took your
soft hand in mine. “About
you?”
Eyebrow raised, a look of purpose
overtook your smile, you locked
on the bow, grimacing,
empty bottle fumbling, then
an arrow notched
pinched in your hand.
And you stood over me
trajectory trained in
at my heart. “Where
did this come from?”
I looked from the steel
tip to your face. “I thought you
brought it over here.”
Tremors of laughter roiled
through you. Screaming giggles
connected us and I
lay helpless, smiling
at your shaking
drunken mercy.
I could only laugh
as the missile plunged through me
pinned me to the couch.
Now
I will drink as you push
the arrow through my chest and
out my shoulder, spicing the blood
soaking deltas into couch
and clothes. Let you
plug the holes with pills
from your purse. Sobbed
apologies met
only with smiles
from sobered eyes and
a request not to twist the thing
so much as it bores on through.
Under your control—one
long steady pull
on arrow
and bottle—do I
trust your tenderness
and the hardening
of my blood.
Thursday, October 06, 2005
So Yeah, Hello Again
Last month, I wrecked my car.
...with my FISTS.
Then I went to Milledgeville to help Melissa with her senior exhibition and also to get drunk and forget about beating up my car.
Then I bought a bunch of records from my friend Giles for $30.
Now I am back in school. So yeah, hello again.
Last month, I wrecked my car.
...with my FISTS.
Then I went to Milledgeville to help Melissa with her senior exhibition and also to get drunk and forget about beating up my car.
Then I bought a bunch of records from my friend Giles for $30.
Now I am back in school. So yeah, hello again.
