Ladies and germs,
I've posted four new videos on YouTube from my performance at the BurnLounge Spring '06 rally in Vegas. I've embeded the videos below. Please enjoy, and them spread them to the wind like a glorious sneeze.
Last night I saw The Bad Plus perform at The Mint. David King is a really, really great drummer. I don't think I've ever seen a musician perform with so much unbridled joy and enthusiasm (or so many Fisher Price toys, for that matter). The outing was sponsored by my good friend/guitar wizard Joel Martin. He got us tickets for my birthday, and he swears he didn't know they would be covering Rush.
More to follow...
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Monday, May 14, 2007
The Legend of Zackda
The blog cabin had to have a few logs repaired whilst I attended to other bizness on Friday. Happily, I'm back, and ready to rock.
I've conquered the demons of ProTools and the error I posted in my last blog. It's not as fun as beating the Legend of Zelda, but I think it took just as much time and video-game-style skillz. For those of waiting in suspense on how to fix that error: simply erase your digidesign databases from your computer AND any hard drives you're using. I think I just heard a collective sigh of relief.
I've begun sketching the music for the movie that I'm going to score, and so far it's a dream. I need to do this a lot. I actually will be for the next few weeks, so I guess I don't have anything to complain about...
...except for that Bruce Bowen, the basketball player, must be auditioning for a shot on America's Funniest Home Crotch Injuries with that knee-first step into Stevie Nash's nether regions.
Till 2moro:
Stay sassy.
I've conquered the demons of ProTools and the error I posted in my last blog. It's not as fun as beating the Legend of Zelda, but I think it took just as much time and video-game-style skillz. For those of waiting in suspense on how to fix that error: simply erase your digidesign databases from your computer AND any hard drives you're using. I think I just heard a collective sigh of relief.
I've begun sketching the music for the movie that I'm going to score, and so far it's a dream. I need to do this a lot. I actually will be for the next few weeks, so I guess I don't have anything to complain about...
...except for that Bruce Bowen, the basketball player, must be auditioning for a shot on America's Funniest Home Crotch Injuries with that knee-first step into Stevie Nash's nether regions.
Till 2moro:
Stay sassy.
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Lessons learned
No matter how many times you drop a waffle into an unplugged toaster it won't cook.
If your external hard drive isn't plugged in, it also won't cook.
It's error messages like these that make me want to kick my heels up and shout (in anguish). Come on now, shout! A little bit louder now... A little bit louder now.
This guy spends a lot of money on saxophone reeds:
I have little to no errands to run today. My goal: world domination by 2057.
Let's get to work.
If your external hard drive isn't plugged in, it also won't cook.
It's error messages like these that make me want to kick my heels up and shout (in anguish). Come on now, shout! A little bit louder now... A little bit louder now.
This guy spends a lot of money on saxophone reeds:
I have little to no errands to run today. My goal: world domination by 2057.
Let's get to work.
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
Global warming proved fraud in one day or your money back!
The blog train is back, y'all! Stop number two.
So panic arrived one day too soon. I am not on fire. Griffith Park reportedly is. Today it was 87 degrees, and yet still downright cool in my apartment. I can stop pouring ice down my pants. Phew!
It's been a day of running errands (musicians, they're just like us! They drive all over town handling stuff that they wish they could pay a personal assistant to do!). It's days like these that make me wonder how I've ever had time to eat three squares a day, much less learn to play an instrument. Regardless of that foolishness, the beat goes on, much like the blog train.
I'm having lots of weird errors trying to get ProTools up and running. These are the days where you need your computer to be tethered to something that you can't hurl. I've put in a call to Lou Ferrigno to see if he's looking for work as a computer desk. If I can't afford a personal assistant, I probably can't afford the Incredible Hulk, but the squeaky wheel gets the grease (beauty school dropout, go back to high school).
On the agenda: watching lots of movies tonight to give myself a crash course in movie scoring. Look out Danny Elfman!
Till the 'morrow...
So panic arrived one day too soon. I am not on fire. Griffith Park reportedly is. Today it was 87 degrees, and yet still downright cool in my apartment. I can stop pouring ice down my pants. Phew!
It's been a day of running errands (musicians, they're just like us! They drive all over town handling stuff that they wish they could pay a personal assistant to do!). It's days like these that make me wonder how I've ever had time to eat three squares a day, much less learn to play an instrument. Regardless of that foolishness, the beat goes on, much like the blog train.
I'm having lots of weird errors trying to get ProTools up and running. These are the days where you need your computer to be tethered to something that you can't hurl. I've put in a call to Lou Ferrigno to see if he's looking for work as a computer desk. If I can't afford a personal assistant, I probably can't afford the Incredible Hulk, but the squeaky wheel gets the grease (beauty school dropout, go back to high school).
On the agenda: watching lots of movies tonight to give myself a crash course in movie scoring. Look out Danny Elfman!
Till the 'morrow...
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
Global warming proven in one day or your money back!
The good news: you can bake a loaf of bread in the shade it's so hot right now.
The bad news: I live in an old building without air conditioning.
Therefore: I'm making ice cubes like I got a twenty dollar bill machine for my birthday.
In other news, I have MAD spam in my myspace inbox. I could feed the world with all this spam.
Last night I played in Venice at the Air Conditioned Supper Club. It lived up to it's name (although I didn't try the supper). I think the word "supper" should be used as a greeting from this moment forth.
The gig was for my friend Erica's birthday. She is nice. Gigs are nice, too.
I've officially acquired a home recording setup and every thought I have somehow modulates back to "what piece of studio-geek gear can I acquire if I mortgage a kidney?" I have API 512s for breakfast and Telefunkens for dessert.
At this moment I'm listening to the live album I recorded on my birthday. It's been pumped full of volume, EQ, compression, and other stuff any sane person doesn't want to hear about.
I'm thinking real hard about hopping back on the blog train. Let's see if my computer melts before I can reclaim my title as a "semi-regular blogger".
At the risk of jinxing something: I'm in the process of finalizing stuff to score a movie. I've dabbled in this briefly, scoring a scene or two for my friend Dan Eberle. This however will be my first full length feature where I'm "the guy". This is one small reason why I'm obsessed with acquiring recording equipment. More news to follow from this as it develops.
The bad news: I live in an old building without air conditioning.
Therefore: I'm making ice cubes like I got a twenty dollar bill machine for my birthday.
In other news, I have MAD spam in my myspace inbox. I could feed the world with all this spam.
Last night I played in Venice at the Air Conditioned Supper Club. It lived up to it's name (although I didn't try the supper). I think the word "supper" should be used as a greeting from this moment forth.
The gig was for my friend Erica's birthday. She is nice. Gigs are nice, too.
I've officially acquired a home recording setup and every thought I have somehow modulates back to "what piece of studio-geek gear can I acquire if I mortgage a kidney?" I have API 512s for breakfast and Telefunkens for dessert.
At this moment I'm listening to the live album I recorded on my birthday. It's been pumped full of volume, EQ, compression, and other stuff any sane person doesn't want to hear about.
I'm thinking real hard about hopping back on the blog train. Let's see if my computer melts before I can reclaim my title as a "semi-regular blogger".
At the risk of jinxing something: I'm in the process of finalizing stuff to score a movie. I've dabbled in this briefly, scoring a scene or two for my friend Dan Eberle. This however will be my first full length feature where I'm "the guy". This is one small reason why I'm obsessed with acquiring recording equipment. More news to follow from this as it develops.
Wednesday, May 2, 2007
the team of my taste
na na na na na na na nah
they say it's your birthday
it's my birthday too, yeah
Actually, they say it was my birthday Saturday, and my profile has a picture of me in a pointy hat to prove it.
Thursday I played the Hotel Cafe. Here's the setlist;
how many times
easy for you
satellite
princess
sun still shines
only rehearsal/treat me bad
simple city/outside opinion
2x2
what if I
one spin
Brandon Rogers sat in on pianer and vox. Bill Shupp played drums and cymbals, Joel Martin played guitar, and Brett Simons played the bass. I had a mighty fine time and consumed a terabyte (terror bite?) of calories thanks to Julie G. providing the cake of three milks, or tres leches, if you prefer. It was delicious.
Saturday we had a small party at my brother's place where I recorded a pre-Benamin Franklin-style album (I think you get sued by MTV if you say Unplugged). It was me and my brother's über-fancy 1968 Martin D-28 acoustic guitar, plus an upright piano. I recorded 15 songs, 12 of which are ready for prime time. There were a couple of false starts, and a song where I substituted poop [sic] instead of the correct lyric. I'm told that these should be on a bonus disc, albeit one with a parental advisory sticker.
I'm planning on selling this live album at shows and online, plus putting some video footage on youtube. It won't take long to mix and master, all I have to do is go through some pictures with Austen Risolvato and ship 'er off to the factory.
I'm doing this live album because I want to have a recording that's just me and the guitar, and also to tide over my very patient fan base. My new studio record is done (barring the composition of another song or two) and ready for mixing, but I'm lining up new management to get a strategy as to how and where to go with this album. This is to insure that my next birthday party will be hosted by P Diddy and decorated by Martha Stewart.
I'll be playing on May 7th at the Air Conditioned Supper Club, which is 625 Lincoln Blvd. in Venice, CA. Don't be afraid. There's a flyer on my profile.
In other news, I was inspired by a conversation about David Bowie's lyrics to mess around with dadaism and the cut-up technique:
* Take a newspaper.
* Take a pair of scissors.
* Choose an article as long as you are planning to make your poem.
* Cut out the article.
* Then cut out each of the words that make up this article and put them in a bag.
* Shake it gently.
* Then take out the scraps one after the other in the order in which they left the bag.
* Copy conscientiously.
* The poem will be like you.
* And here you are a writer, infinitely original and endowed with a sensibility that is charming though beyond the understanding of the vulgar.
-Tristan Tzara
I have my own technique for accidentally creating poetry. It's called the AltaVista Babel Fish translator, where you can translate phrases from English to other languages and back. Hilarity ensues.
For example:
It was my birthday on Saturday. I was given tickets to a basketball game. It was enjoyable even though my favorite team lost the game because they can't defend the pick and roll.
Once it's translated, and returned to English:
That was my birthday of Saturday. I could give the ticket to the tournament of the baseball. That those protected one piercing, being not to be possible, to roll, was pleasant to the team of my taste losing the game.
Taste losing the game, indeed.
Go Lakers! And, thanks E, E, and J for the tix.
they say it's your birthday
it's my birthday too, yeah
Actually, they say it was my birthday Saturday, and my profile has a picture of me in a pointy hat to prove it.
Thursday I played the Hotel Cafe. Here's the setlist;
how many times
easy for you
satellite
princess
sun still shines
only rehearsal/treat me bad
simple city/outside opinion
2x2
what if I
one spin
Brandon Rogers sat in on pianer and vox. Bill Shupp played drums and cymbals, Joel Martin played guitar, and Brett Simons played the bass. I had a mighty fine time and consumed a terabyte (terror bite?) of calories thanks to Julie G. providing the cake of three milks, or tres leches, if you prefer. It was delicious.
Saturday we had a small party at my brother's place where I recorded a pre-Benamin Franklin-style album (I think you get sued by MTV if you say Unplugged). It was me and my brother's über-fancy 1968 Martin D-28 acoustic guitar, plus an upright piano. I recorded 15 songs, 12 of which are ready for prime time. There were a couple of false starts, and a song where I substituted poop [sic] instead of the correct lyric. I'm told that these should be on a bonus disc, albeit one with a parental advisory sticker.
I'm planning on selling this live album at shows and online, plus putting some video footage on youtube. It won't take long to mix and master, all I have to do is go through some pictures with Austen Risolvato and ship 'er off to the factory.
I'm doing this live album because I want to have a recording that's just me and the guitar, and also to tide over my very patient fan base. My new studio record is done (barring the composition of another song or two) and ready for mixing, but I'm lining up new management to get a strategy as to how and where to go with this album. This is to insure that my next birthday party will be hosted by P Diddy and decorated by Martha Stewart.
I'll be playing on May 7th at the Air Conditioned Supper Club, which is 625 Lincoln Blvd. in Venice, CA. Don't be afraid. There's a flyer on my profile.
In other news, I was inspired by a conversation about David Bowie's lyrics to mess around with dadaism and the cut-up technique:
* Take a newspaper.
* Take a pair of scissors.
* Choose an article as long as you are planning to make your poem.
* Cut out the article.
* Then cut out each of the words that make up this article and put them in a bag.
* Shake it gently.
* Then take out the scraps one after the other in the order in which they left the bag.
* Copy conscientiously.
* The poem will be like you.
* And here you are a writer, infinitely original and endowed with a sensibility that is charming though beyond the understanding of the vulgar.
-Tristan Tzara
I have my own technique for accidentally creating poetry. It's called the AltaVista Babel Fish translator, where you can translate phrases from English to other languages and back. Hilarity ensues.
For example:
It was my birthday on Saturday. I was given tickets to a basketball game. It was enjoyable even though my favorite team lost the game because they can't defend the pick and roll.
Once it's translated, and returned to English:
That was my birthday of Saturday. I could give the ticket to the tournament of the baseball. That those protected one piercing, being not to be possible, to roll, was pleasant to the team of my taste losing the game.
Taste losing the game, indeed.
Go Lakers! And, thanks E, E, and J for the tix.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)