Jaime Stewart Wrote Me A Haiku

Click here to see the haiku that Jaime Stewart from Xiu Xiu wrote specifically for me. I was one of the first few hundred folks to send in a picture of myself holding their new album, "Women As Lovers" (you can hear a song on the ghetto blaster up there.) This was the picture:


I know; it's disgusting. But it was the most Xiu Xiu thing I could think to do.

Devil's Haircut

I got my hair cut at Countours today by my friend Eric. He is amazingly good at his job. Totally amazing. He makes hair look like hot sex on my head. How? It begins with a miraculous double shampooing and conditioning, then a trim, then a thin, then a styling.



Now I have to improve the rest of my body to match my haircut.

This is the lyric that won't leave my head:

"Death to everyone, is gonna come,
And it makes Jose much more fun."

I have to wear my fancy suit tonight to play a concert at school with my classical Guitar Ensemble which we've decided to name Ride or Die at the encouragement of the "brutal" metal kid who plays with us. This isn't us, but we're playing this song:



Really poppy, but catchy and kind of fun. I play one of the idiot parts, but the other guys get to improv some blazing solos at the end.

Don't Have My Phone

Hey Babe,

I don't have my phone on me today, and I don't have time to run home and get it, so I won't get to talk to you till after 3:00. This is what I would say if I could call you right now:

I am so bummed. I dozed off twice during theory this morning, but I just got done practicing and I feel pretty good about my lesson. I'm very confused about the Socrates/Plato text we're analyzing in philosophy. It's brilliant, I've figured out that much, but it's basically a conversation between two guys, so the structure is hard to find. Anyway, I hope you're not feeling too tired today. Hope you're still up for going out with Cassie and whoever tonight.

I love you.
--
I've Seen This Happen In Other People's Lives
And Now It's Happening In Mine

David Bazan, Here I Come

I'm going to see David Bazan (from the band Pedro the Lion) tonight at Taylor University, Upland. I hope it lives up to my hopes and dreams. I saw Pedro the Lion a few years ago, but it was kind of disappointing. The band played well, and they covered a wide range of their material. It was just kind of a let down from what might have been if I'd seen them a year or two earlier previous.

Now there's new material, multiple monikers, but still the same old Q&A. I can't hide it, I'm pretty excited.

Now back to reading Socrates. Summary: two things are known for certain.

(1) I don't know shit, and
(2) neither do you.

Anna Vogelzang and Tiger Saw Review

Dylan assumed the space at the front of the Dragon's Keep with a quiet but confident demeanor. He rang the bell hanging from the headstock of his ancient and beaten guitar, calling attention to the presentation we had in store. Anna Vogelzang called an "A-huh-heh-hem" and captured the moment. Dylan spelled out his full name, (which I misunderstood,) and assured us that he and Anna would make up the Tiger Saw lineup for the evening.

He began with a stomp of his black shoe and a strum of the guitar, Anna's harmonies meshing with the first melody of the night. He held his head high, and marched through the song with steady resolve while she held a coffee cup in two hands and climbed vocal steps to meet the song's wistfully beautiful mood.

After the opener he asked if anybody had any questions. I asked from midway back if his name was Dillinger abbreviated Dillin, only to receive the reply that it was in fact Dylan Jeremiah. My mistake. As further reply the Tiger Saw came closer to my section of the room to stand before the coffee bar and present to us in a more personal space. Much appreciated.

Short explanations, such as the feeling of being beside somebody and finding your emotions too complex to express, or anecdotes of seeing fully dressed prostitutes in the red-light district of Hamburg (what queer advertising.) A few songs featured Anna adding solo melodies with accompaniment by Dylan. Each song stuck pretty close to the formula, (a working formula,) but one standout included statements about certain ghosts always being near to our hearts. That particular cut also featured travel buddy Joe Arnold adding pizzicato string accompaniment and short bowing on the violin.

Dylan finished with thanks and recollections of friends in Massachusetts. He then launched into a final melody which faded into accappella choruses imploring listeners to keep a song with them to remind of home. A chime of the bell ended the set.

Anna Vogelzang took our attention next, with little announcement save for a request that steamed and blended drinks be saved for after the set. God, that really bothers me. The drinks I mean. Oh well.

Percussive blasts from the guitar were the true heralding of Anna's first "up, up and away-hey-eh" joint, complimented by climbing violin strains from Joe. Rapid lyricism cascaded finally into a fading chorus and formal introduction. Various and sundry names for the tour were thrown about as jokes before the next song was introduced as being penned for Paris Hilton during her "tough" stay behind bars. Indeed, "we love to watch you suffer" rings true, at least for me, not so much the "I love your hair" echoed into infinity towards the end, but the bright charisma carried me to the climax nevertheless.

The following ballad, a finger-picker, was a definite example of Joe's flourishing violin skills. Swirling trills at the refrain gave the old slow-burner the added heat to convince of us of the intended warmth spoken of in the lyrics. However it was "Philly", Anna's recollections of her one time of home in Philadelphia that rang out more magnificently still, bursting forth through crisp falsetto resolving to diminished chords and an instrumental bridge showcasing a charming solo ending in a quiet verse of burning memories.

A rousing rendition of The Beatles' "Your Mother Should Know" came next, with violin harmonizing vocals on the spiraling "sing it again" pre-choruses. An anecdote about actually stopping in Cleveland for the previous night's show preceded "Family Band," a song that begins with the line "how about we move to Cleveland." For the record, apparently Anna would never want to actually move there.

A little cowboy ditty completed the set, a self-proclaimed "quiet version of an already quiet song" that was enhanced by the pleasantly surprised smiles exchanged between the players as correct notes blended together in this new rendition. Dylan stepped up to join Anna on a duet where they played mock lovers. Joe spotlighted once more with quiet plucks of the guts at the start of the evening's closer, "Hymn for a Parents." What a hero, that Joe.

Some Goals

The thing is, I probably won't accomplish many, or any of these:

• Eat less
• Exercise 3-4 times a week
• Be sure to eat at least one healthy meal every day
• Spend less on food (eat out less)
• Practice guitar more regularly (weekends included)
• Bend to the whims of my spouse more often
• Go out of my way to befriend music department fags

These are all hedonistic according to my new understanding of it. I think that despite minor pain and no immediate pleasure they will yield great gain in the future and allow me to avoid further pain. All except that last one. This picture is me reacting to mdf stupidity right now.

I finally updated the media player, gave it a little more exposure. Oh well, nobody's listening anyway. Now I go to bed too late and wish I'd spent my time more productively. Maybe on a explication de texte, or songwriting, or instrumental practice, or sleeping next to my wife.

It's time to do that last one.

Anyone Who Says Differently is Selling Something

I really love my band. It's a powerful motivator. It makes me want to be better.

Tonight it also made me want to die. But not till afterwards. If only I'd just stayed home and made somebody else happy.

Possible tracklist for a new album:

01. Silence as anticipation
02. ... as assurance
03. ... as peace
04. Silence as inexpressible pain
05. ... as exclusion
06. ... as manipulation
07. ... as a weapon
08. Silence as desperation
09. ... as a resolution
10. ... as a final choice

Sounds emo as all hell, huh? Maybe a "clever" album title like Silence as the Grave would fit nicely. I guess I'll have to change my performance name to As Autumn Leaves Burn In Flames Becoming the Ashes of My Fallen Tears. I'll have to die my hair black and use a flat iron to make it hang all jagged in my face. I'll have to wear eyeliner. Actually, damn! This is starting to sound awesome!

On a more serious note, I'm studying Epicurus in philosophy. Today we redefined hedonism and it actually sounds pretty good. It's all about ultimate pleasure, not just pleasure in the moment, but making choices based on the best pleasure, which often means delaying gratification or working hard to achieve better pleasure in the future.

It's also all about avoiding pain. And in the words of Isaac Brock: "If life's not beautiful without the pain, when I guess I'd really rather never even see beauty again."

Wanted: Purpose

So much for productive blogging. I have nothing I care about enough to post anyway. Except a lame want ad.

Seeking: purpose and meaning for life that surpasses overwhelming sense of doldrum. Must be... hell, it can be anything. Must not force me to believe unprovable nonsense that I will eventually shake off as a load of shit.

Offering: hard work with great success when motivated.

Warning: difficult as hell to motivate.

Oh god, somebody I know has the most difficult disposition when she's groggy. And she's been sick for days. Sickness comes with a lot of sleep and sleeps means lots of groggy moments before, during, and after the act. That sentence was difficult to read. Oh well, nobody's reading. Anyway, I feel like the most annoying sack of rot on the planet when she's groggy. I'm incapable of pleasing (which I realize is more important to me than I'd hoped) and guilty if I try to escape.

That's all nonsense. I'm exaggerating.

But I still feel like I'm ready the way that Biggie Smalls and the Unicorns were.

Back From Florida, Despising Existence in Fort Wayne

Okay, this town isn't that bad, honestly. Nobody wants to hear me complain, especially not me. So I'll save it. I just hope that the weather turns nicer and everybody quits this sickness that's going around. And I hope I get a break from all of this catchup I'm doing at school. And I hope that this album I'm recording is the shit. I have seen the future, and there are people worshiping my music... never.

Back to class. During my break I think I'm going to post some real music reviews, change my layout, and update that music player at the bottom of the page. Should be fun. Damn, nobody's reading this. Who am I trying to convince?