Consequences be damned

I'm a man about town of late

Monday nights I've been a regular at Molly Malone's, enjoying the musics of Brandon Rogers, Amie Miriello, and David Hodges. I highly recommend it, and not just because of Amie's potty-mouth banter.

Tuesday I sat in at the F.O.C.K.R.'s jam at the Kibbitz Room and earred my way through some Billy Joel on the saxamaphone. It's easy to stand out when no one else plays your instrument, that's why I'm in the market for a sacbut.

Last night I enjoyed the music of Geoff Pearlman at Cafe Cordiale. Geoff is an architect with the songs he writes. There's an intrinsic logic to the harmonic lines that weave through his stories that makes me musically horny.

Music enthusiast by night, music creator/meeting taker by day

I'm keeping on a strict diet of writing one new song a day. I'm planting musical seeds. Some will grow into b-sides, some into chart-topping anthems, and some into birdcage liner. Only time will tell.

I've got a new manager. You may notice a more meaty presence on my myspace and facebook pages in the future. We've been galavanting around LA to line up my behind the scenes army. I like meetings that involve sushi.

Illness is my least favorite "ness"

I'm still feeling the lingering effects of a sinus thing. It seems to have settled into my throat (that's what she said). As a result I've skipped my running regimen for the last week. My alarm clock was a calf cramp at 5:30 AM. This is no bueno (I learned those two words on the Drake Bell Mexico Tour '08). I'm going running. Consequences be damned. I'll need a banana afterwards, and perhaps a new throat. Till then.