This being what it is, tinny-tiny cubicleprisonspeakers probably won't do it the justice it deserves, but, not to seem like i'm being didactic, be where you be, and you will get the idea or it may not resonate:
"Your Dissappearin' act, well, that's an old standby..."
...and so is the title and above quote; borrowing words from an American Music Club song title hopefully does not diminish the "meaning" and import of them, as they are meant in a self-referential way.
Relying on other's words, admittedly, serves as a bit of a prophylactic, so to say... but may they serve that purpose, for now at least, as I find no affinity, at present (if ever anymore) for the gift (read: illusion) of original thought and more particularly it's conveyance.
However feebly, half-heartedly and ham-fisted-ly I attempt to force fit the borrowed words, the perhaps out of context, often ambiguous metaphor here, the coyness, real, feigned or even imagined there, the cliches, the over-riding lack of structure throughout (and not to forget the ambivalence masquerading as a ruse or visa versa) I am sure as I can be, dear reader, you will not be able to help taking all of this as you please, including and perhaps especially this admission, in spite of, or even despite, all the might of a forced empathy.
(3 parts Okkervil River & 1 part Lil' Cap'N Travis, 100% satisfaction Guaranteed.)~from myspaccccce
"This is a video created from footage (scott brackett??) animated at home as well as some that was done by atendees at an art fundraiser on Friday April 9th 2010.
guest animators include:
Kevin Cox (the arrows) Martin (The Snake/ egg) Scott Hornberger ( the Triangle becomes Tron chase) Hanna (frown to smile) Erin Berkenkamp (time elapsed flowers) Celia (The spinning circle.
Music also written and performed by Scott Brackett."
Earlier Jason made reference to his later 1950's "Alamo Fiesta" guitar made in San Antonio, which is 90 minutes by car from Austin, saying it was coming home.
Here he looks down, chuckles and smiles after I crack wise, telling him, as he struggles with the out of tune antique, to "Bring it home to San Antone."
confetti by evan dando He kinda shoulda sorta woulda loved her if he could've The story's getting closer to the end He kinda shoulda sorta woulda loved her if he could've He'd rather be alone than pretend She just wanted him to love her but he didn't He took to the woods and wandered in it Walked along and on until they couldn't Stole himself to tell her that he wouldn't Walked along and on 'til his legs couldn't Stole her voice to tell her that he wouldn't
Directed by Conrad Rooks Written by Conrad Rooks Starring Conrad Rooks Jean-Louis Barrault William S. Burroughs Swami Satchidananda Allen Ginsberg Moondog Ravi Shankar Ornette Coleman Paula Pritchett The Fugs Music by Ravi Shankar Philip Glass Release date(s) November 5, 1967 (USA) Running time 82 mins Country USA Language English
Blog o' tha day. more than worthy Biog of the day.
(pictured john, john, maybe another john- and most importantly here and for me john roderick lead throat face etc. of "the steely dan of alaska" et al et al ad infinitum ad nauseum...)
(*photo credit some pinched tweet or some such other social ntwxnonsense)
"Tomorrow night" as my nephew, best friend and most frequent commenter put it, "...God willing and the creek don't rise, you will be standing with some 'I was theres' listening to some awkward aural heartbreak"
You really gotta meet my nephew. And handsome too.
Frankly, between those variables handsomeness notwithstanding, the odd, the interesting, and good tenor of my day, which is a whole 'nother story as somebody once said, "it was a real kick in the head the old queen ain't dead, twer 'er usband instead"
cherubim, seraphim here in unison
(sad refrain even sadder the fact he did not even marry well...)
I was not going to go see, the nephew here interpolating, "The revered patron saint of lo-fi and mental illness" especially after seeing the not quite as low fidelity, not quite as sad, and apparently not quite as mentally ill, and honestly, more esteemed by me, and less covered by anyone, the "friendly minstrel that isn't very friendly" (Truth told, he is quite nice. And did sign a shirt that I brought in as well as another rock god's (lower-case mine) c.d. image's faccia...
and who is only smashing minimally, like lemmings, these days, the soft skulls of (college aged hipsters) on the rocks of his of his bitter sarcasm...
ladies and gentlemen... the pieces of meat... erp sebodah, sebadoh...erp, lou barlow, earlier this week, I wasn't going to attend, but alas and alack Transmission stopped blowing its L on my T's and allowed me to purchase one ticket for myself (p.i.l. for they are at will-call)
(all night, by the by)
long story short, after looking yesterday, to see if by some odd chance they were gonna do some more u.s. dates, posting the video below, meandering into Waterloo Records, overhearing that they had just gone on sale HERE, i got 4 pavement tickets.
"I scarcely know where to begin, though I sometimes facetiously place the cause of it all to Charley Furuseth’s credit. He kept a summer cottage in Mill Valley, under the shadow of Mount Tamalpais, and never occupied it except when he loafed through the winter months and read Nietzsche and Schopenhauer to rest his brain."from: The Sea Wolf ~ Jack London (1905)
The Statler Brothers "Flowers on the Wall"
Gang of Four "Damaged Goods"
Vangelis "One More Kiss, Dear"
more from the sea wolf: ""One kiss, dear love," I whispered. "One kiss more before they come and rescue us from ourselves,” she completed, with a most adorable smile, whimsical as I had never seen it, for it was whimsical with love..."
What makes a hometown a hometown? Is it where one was born? Is it where a person passed through puberty and on into adulthood, or is it a place where one first feels "at home", truly at home in the world?
Sparing the autobiographical details, I have settled on the latter of the three. The place that I consider my true hometown, a iplace with a sense of place, a home in the world as opposed to the place where the umbilical was cut, the place or places where I got taller, and or first grew hair on or near my "naughty bits", or of the any other incidental criterion...
One day I hope to make "wherever I lay my hat" one and the same.
mark "i AM smiling" eitzel make sure to watch/ not watch the youtooob video at the end...
Mark Eitzel: Hell is the jazz guitarist noodling endlessly in the house next to me. His nimble fingers are racing up and down, down and up the scales, Such inspired improvisations!!! Hell.
Yesterday at 7:56pm via Facebook for iPhone · Comment · LikeUnlike 8 people like this.
Alan Zweig: Sing some of your miserablist sad suicidal songs and maybe he'll kill himself. Or at least get some better taste. Yesterday at 7:58pm
Chris Nichols: jazz is boring to listen to, mark .... even more boring to play cos it shows how much you can simultaneously learn and forget at the same time :-)) Yesterday at 8:00pm
David Kulczyk: maybe it's time that you cranked up an amp Yesterday at 8:02pm
Mark Eitzel: Yes I'm going to stand outside his house and sing.. Or throw bricks... I mean I love jazz but some music should only be played at Guitar Center... Yesterday at 8:04pm
Rob Powell: Have you ever considered learning bagpipes? Yesterday at 8:04pm
John Kirby: Self-absorbed noodling... oh god I really dislike that. You need to just get out of there. I imagine that guy as he's playing: "... I sound amaaaazzzing." Yesterday at 8:12pm
Nick Dumitriu: You don't enjoy my 'Monk Etudes'? I just put on new strings and everything Yesterday at 8:13pm
Chris Nichols: i doubt the guy has made over a dozen heart-wrenching albums and had songwriter of the year in rolling stone magazine ..... probably plays free and lynrd skynrd covers in some forgotten bar band :-)))) Yesterday at 8:13pm
Jeanne Ellenby: Ugh Yesterday at 8:17pm
Jennifer Billock: Apparently you don't live on the perfect block after all. And I'd been so jealous. Yesterday at 8:17pm
Mark Eitzel: Yeah I'm a prick.. God bless him. I should bring him a 6 pack of Labatts beer! Yesterday at 8:23pm
Chris Nichols: he's probably playing his dorian modes whilst watching porn, .... beer?? .... he's already drunk!!, has to be!! :-))) Yesterday at 8:26pm
Gary Meister: Jazz is the last refuge of the untalented. Jazz musicians enjoy themselves more than anyone listening to them does. Tony Wilson Yesterday at 8:33pm
Chris Nichols: jazz= smug alert Yesterday at 8:35pm
Charlie Orr: My landlord, who lives downstairs, is a latin jazz pianist. It's kind of like living above a latino Phillip Glass. Yesterday at 8:35pm
Dara Mottahed: Sad state of affairs Mark... I can only imagine... purgatory. Yesterday at 8:43pm
Bryan Chandler: Tell me when you want to be on KUSF with me! Yesterday at 8:48pm
Tim Mitchell: i'll bet he was busting quite a bit of Harmonic Major - the lamest of all scales. The Harmonic MINOR, on the other hand, rules cuz its the metal scale. Yesterday at 8:54pm
Ari Vais: Walk away Yesterday at 9:35pm
Steve Seel: Tell him to get a fucking Pod or something and a pair of headphones. That way, the masturbation can stay private. Yesterday at 10:16pm
Mike Dowd: is it anything like Kenny G? I love Kenny G. Yesterday at 11:41pm
Paul Thomas Stinson: Hell is for children. 16 hours ago
Frank Schilbach: always the same problem: Things could be inspiring but they are rather depressing when somebody is just TOO good! 15 hours ago
Mark Crocker: I bet it's Malcolm the Music Student, he get's everywhere, I call them Jazz Patients. 15 hours ago
Patrik Torsson: You should invite him over and let him scale over your beats. He will grow in his mind. Become clearer. Clean up. 15 hours ago
Alex Bogdan: LOL 15 hours ago
Sally Williams: I once heard Modern Jazz described as "masturbating in public" 13 hours ago
Rob Dunn: inches of wall separates us from our fears 10 hours ago
John Kirby: Wow. This is awesome. Went to bed, woke up, and the comments regarding jazzy noodles are still rolling in! Darn. I gotta go to work.... Noodles for lunch? No frikked way. Do something Mark - make us jazz protesters proud! 10 hours ago
Eev Beker: jazz noodle, or predawn toddlers bowling on the floor above...tough call. 6 hours ago
"I sometimes think of what future historians will say of us. A single sentence will suffice for modern man: he fornicated and read the papers. After that vigorous definition, the subject will be, if I may say so, exhausted..."
my dear readers (the plural here used advisedly) know my affection cum fetish with yon dunedin, new zealand supplied music of the eighties/ early nineties. i am at least as fascinated by bloggers (and quite honestly, people at large) less ambivalent than myself toward blogging and most things generally. (note the lack of capitalization as one case in point)
(by way of a example and or tease) from the blog concords are better "I know exactly two things about New Zealand. The first, obviously, is hobbits. The country is overrun with these furry-footed creatures. According to recent statistics, there are seven hobbits for every human in New Zealand..."
a review of a couple of my personal favorite self-same bands and an apperent zeal for blogging, as, not-so-recently realised by yours truly...here
and please read on...(ambivalence notwithstanding)... i am in the middle of the neil young "time fades away" post myself" and the entertainment seems to continue.
Red House Painters cover Kiss and (a long winded) Wings era McCartney cover-with Neil Young guitar tone- done well before the indie rock "movement" made the so-called ironic choice of songs to cover obligatory, thereby speaking negation to the tongue-in-cheek aspect and jettisoningit to the realm of the bumper sticker; wherein the first time one sees a clever one it may be funny, the second evokes the response "Yeah, I've seen that." and the third, "God, I am so sick of that!" or something like the same.
(Pickle and Tilamook Omelette with Mustard theme by kh inspired by nathanathema)
“I shall not today attempt further to define [obscenity]; and perhaps I could never succeed in intelligibly doing so. But I know it when I see it….” Justice Potter Stewart
Bleu -Theres No Such Thing As Love
Talk Hard! (yet, your shit removed upon request).
pump it up
you know you can use it!
as my cheerio's bionic woman stickers used to say: