Good morning!
So, I've never disliked coffee, but its only been recently that I've taken to having a cup every morning. I'd like to say that it does something for me, but I'm pretty sure that it plays no role larger than being simply a soothing beverage. Caffeine is lost in me. My teenage years were spent atop Mt. Dew, so I built up a tolerance for it.
Anyhow, when I was at Donna's this morning, the South African man in front of me ordered an Everything Goes bagel. Now that's the sort of bagel with whom I want to hang out!
That's the story!
Friday, December 7, 2007
Thursday, December 6, 2007
ISO Gooseberry Soda, Volume 2
With the help of darnedbestestblog girl, I had half a mind to think that I'd be hearing that song about a sweet sweet sip of soda by closing tonight. I was lead to this web archive site that has taken a snapshot of many a site over the past ten years. I was cautiously optimistic when I searched for mp3.com and found a 1999 version that looked just like the one that I had stored in my memory. Unfortunately, from there, any attempted navigation was pointless. I couldn't search for GooseD, and I couldn't go directly to what I determined to be my old domain name at mp3.com. Using my address as a base, I also tried what I believed to be Well's address. Also to no avail. (editor's note: There is another band on mp3.com called Well...so don't go thinking that you found the ark of the covenant or that I don't try the obvious things).
Are you asking yourself how I remembered my site address? Well, first, its a simple address. But secondly, for lunch, I went home and something that I did have saved on my hard drive was an old website for Twentieth Century Styles, which included a link to the mp3.com page.
And what was even better was that on my "Links" page on the 20thCS, I had included a link to the Well web page on Angelfire!!! Great news, right???!?
Well, no. Of course, the website isn't there anymore. And the further slap in the face...that useless archive site didn't bother to note that particular page as being important enough to remember.
Stack of CD-Rs in Davey's basement...you're my only hope.
Are you asking yourself how I remembered my site address? Well, first, its a simple address. But secondly, for lunch, I went home and something that I did have saved on my hard drive was an old website for Twentieth Century Styles, which included a link to the mp3.com page.
And what was even better was that on my "Links" page on the 20thCS, I had included a link to the Well web page on Angelfire!!! Great news, right???!?
Well, no. Of course, the website isn't there anymore. And the further slap in the face...that useless archive site didn't bother to note that particular page as being important enough to remember.
Stack of CD-Rs in Davey's basement...you're my only hope.
The best song that I'll never hear again
At the turn of the century, I used to post a lot of my little songs on a site called mp3.com . I'm pretty sure that the current mp3.com is the same as the old mp3.com, except my log-in doesn't work anymore. I guess that's what seven years of inactivity will get you.
mp3.com (should I have capitalized that m?) was to 1999 what Myspace Music is to Nowadays, albeit not so IN YOUR FACE. Struggling bands would set up their page, add some mp3s and bio information, then hope that someone would stumble upon their page. There were no bulletins. No friend requests. You'd tell the system what your sound was reminiscent of, and then users would search on their favorite artists to find new bands. Perhaps I was just more open to the idea back then, but I feel like I like I heard a lot better stuff than I do currently on Myspace, etc. There was still plenty of crap, that's for sure, but there were quite a few gems.
For those of you who knew my 1999 self, or my 2007 self for that matter, it wouldn't take Nostradamus to figure out what my search criteria would have been when looking for new music. And the results were always much less daunting then they are on myspace. As opposed to being directed to Page 1 of 30, I'd be greeted with 25 or 30 artists max...an amount that I could realistically navigate entirely through and really decide if any of them were worth a damn.
As luck would have it, within the first few results was always an act called Well, from somewhere in Europe. My memory eludes me on that much. It was just one guy and he only had one song, but it was the most incredible song I've ever heard. Drum machine...the guitars sounded like they were plugged right into the 1/8" microphone jack on this computer...and the vocals were plentifully recorded. The song was called "GooseD" and the chorus went like this...
Gooseberry soda, I drink it without a straw
There's a black snake in the quarry, a dangerous undertow
And although it was absolute pop, every time he sang about that black snake, I'd quiver in fear. Then came an overdriven Spontaneous Gyrations era Gittingsesque extended guitar solo. Pure magic.
Now for the horrific part of the story. I don't have this song anymore and I don't anticipate it eventually showing up on a Time/Life boxset. Whereas I've spent the last years streamlining my personal belongings, I've always been very thorough about saving and backing up all of my computer files. Everything except for this mp3.
I mean, its not as dire as it sounds. I'm certain that I must have a copy of it somewhere. Whether its on a CD-R spindled up in DGW's basement. Or on the computer that I sold Orangey a few years back. But I can't help but be frightened of that small percentage chance that I'll never hear it again. There's not much hope that I'm going to recall Well's Angelfire web address...and even if I did, what's the likelihood that Angelfire has preserved the page?
I'm already planning for the worst case scenario of having a hypnotist pull every recollection of this song from my brain, so that I can record and recreate it on my own. For God's sake, I can't remember how the verse went and its wrecking me.
Please advise.
mp3.com (should I have capitalized that m?) was to 1999 what Myspace Music is to Nowadays, albeit not so IN YOUR FACE. Struggling bands would set up their page, add some mp3s and bio information, then hope that someone would stumble upon their page. There were no bulletins. No friend requests. You'd tell the system what your sound was reminiscent of, and then users would search on their favorite artists to find new bands. Perhaps I was just more open to the idea back then, but I feel like I like I heard a lot better stuff than I do currently on Myspace, etc. There was still plenty of crap, that's for sure, but there were quite a few gems.
For those of you who knew my 1999 self, or my 2007 self for that matter, it wouldn't take Nostradamus to figure out what my search criteria would have been when looking for new music. And the results were always much less daunting then they are on myspace. As opposed to being directed to Page 1 of 30, I'd be greeted with 25 or 30 artists max...an amount that I could realistically navigate entirely through and really decide if any of them were worth a damn.
As luck would have it, within the first few results was always an act called Well, from somewhere in Europe. My memory eludes me on that much. It was just one guy and he only had one song, but it was the most incredible song I've ever heard. Drum machine...the guitars sounded like they were plugged right into the 1/8" microphone jack on this computer...and the vocals were plentifully recorded. The song was called "GooseD" and the chorus went like this...
Gooseberry soda, I drink it without a straw
There's a black snake in the quarry, a dangerous undertow
And although it was absolute pop, every time he sang about that black snake, I'd quiver in fear. Then came an overdriven Spontaneous Gyrations era Gittingsesque extended guitar solo. Pure magic.
Now for the horrific part of the story. I don't have this song anymore and I don't anticipate it eventually showing up on a Time/Life boxset. Whereas I've spent the last years streamlining my personal belongings, I've always been very thorough about saving and backing up all of my computer files. Everything except for this mp3.
I mean, its not as dire as it sounds. I'm certain that I must have a copy of it somewhere. Whether its on a CD-R spindled up in DGW's basement. Or on the computer that I sold Orangey a few years back. But I can't help but be frightened of that small percentage chance that I'll never hear it again. There's not much hope that I'm going to recall Well's Angelfire web address...and even if I did, what's the likelihood that Angelfire has preserved the page?
I'm already planning for the worst case scenario of having a hypnotist pull every recollection of this song from my brain, so that I can record and recreate it on my own. For God's sake, I can't remember how the verse went and its wrecking me.
Please advise.
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
Today's Random Memory
In the spring of 2000, I didn't have a job, I didn't have a girlfriend and I'm pretty sure that I didn't go to school either.
So, why not take a car ride to NYC with the mother, grandmother, brother and sister-in-law to see True West, a two man show starring Philip Seymour Hoffman and John C. Reilly as dysfunctional brothers. The age-old battle of the fuck-up verses the straight-lacer. The clever part about that the production was that PSH and JCR had both parts prepared, so that any given audience hadn't a clue who would be playing whom when they entered the theatre.
On paper, I would have cast Hoffman as the straight man, and Reilly as the wild and crazy guy. Well, we got the opposite. We also had front row seats and PSH sweated and spat on us for 75 minutes! It was great! Then in 2002, when Hoffman played "wild and crazy" in Punch-drunk Love...I said, "I've seen him do that before!"
Okay. The End.
So, why not take a car ride to NYC with the mother, grandmother, brother and sister-in-law to see True West, a two man show starring Philip Seymour Hoffman and John C. Reilly as dysfunctional brothers. The age-old battle of the fuck-up verses the straight-lacer. The clever part about that the production was that PSH and JCR had both parts prepared, so that any given audience hadn't a clue who would be playing whom when they entered the theatre.
On paper, I would have cast Hoffman as the straight man, and Reilly as the wild and crazy guy. Well, we got the opposite. We also had front row seats and PSH sweated and spat on us for 75 minutes! It was great! Then in 2002, when Hoffman played "wild and crazy" in Punch-drunk Love...I said, "I've seen him do that before!"
Okay. The End.
The Bradys and Partridges
Let's talk about the Patridge Family for a while.
First and foremost, I'll acknowledge that I also appreciate the Patridges' brothers-and sisters-in-arms The Brady Bunch. The Bradys (Bradies?) have some great tunes. Its a Sunshine Day ...Merry Go Round...Time To Change...Candy (Sugar Shoppe) ("sippin' milkshakes in the hot sun!").
Like I said, great songs! But c'mon, they're just a bunch of kids! Okay, I'm not making my point here. The Brady Bunch...there's nothing bad that I can say about them. Maybe they're too cutesy? That's one thing.
Now...the Patridges. Man, that David Cassidy is a Godsend. I spent my middle school years infatuated with the guy. I forget what it was called, but I remember going with my mother and grandmother to see him and Petula Clark in some musical that involved a recurring theme about how Pet-Clark was superstitious about making sure that shoes were never placed on top of a table. Bad luck. And low and behold, either D-Cass or his brother put his shoes on the table and got hit by a truck or something.
So, I Think I Love You and C'Mon Get Happy...yeah, that stuff's good, but don't pigeon-hole the Fam as being too bubblegum for their own good. Give I'll Meet You Halfway a chance...oh and listen to Cassidy's spoken word verse starting at 1:41 in Doesn't Somebody Want To Be Wanted? So much more genuine and convincing, then, say, Elvis' sapfest in Are You Lonesome?.
I could never pull that off.
Just give the family a chance.
First and foremost, I'll acknowledge that I also appreciate the Patridges' brothers-and sisters-in-arms The Brady Bunch. The Bradys (Bradies?) have some great tunes. Its a Sunshine Day ...Merry Go Round...Time To Change...Candy (Sugar Shoppe) ("sippin' milkshakes in the hot sun!").
Like I said, great songs! But c'mon, they're just a bunch of kids! Okay, I'm not making my point here. The Brady Bunch...there's nothing bad that I can say about them. Maybe they're too cutesy? That's one thing.
Now...the Patridges. Man, that David Cassidy is a Godsend. I spent my middle school years infatuated with the guy. I forget what it was called, but I remember going with my mother and grandmother to see him and Petula Clark in some musical that involved a recurring theme about how Pet-Clark was superstitious about making sure that shoes were never placed on top of a table. Bad luck. And low and behold, either D-Cass or his brother put his shoes on the table and got hit by a truck or something.
So, I Think I Love You and C'Mon Get Happy...yeah, that stuff's good, but don't pigeon-hole the Fam as being too bubblegum for their own good. Give I'll Meet You Halfway a chance...oh and listen to Cassidy's spoken word verse starting at 1:41 in Doesn't Somebody Want To Be Wanted? So much more genuine and convincing, then, say, Elvis' sapfest in Are You Lonesome?.
I could never pull that off.
Just give the family a chance.
Egg Babies Practice Review 12/3
Hey everyone,
Last night was the second of six Egg Babies practices scheduled for this week. Just the same as Sunday, the six dudes showed up, while the four ladies readied their makeup and outfits for their appearances later in the week...
Imagine that last bit as being a lot more jokey than it may initially read.
For once, the five of us whom don't live at the Record Label building all arrived nearly simultaneously. Honcho Folds was busy with some sort of meeting when we arrived, so the five of us made the ill-advised decision to start the practice with a 45 minute snack break.
Now, don't get me wrong. There's nothing wrong with snacks. In fact, they're the single reason most of us manage to trudge through the 4 practices. Personally, when I'm singing Tiny Dancer, there are visions of raspberry cookies floating around in my brain. So, what happened last night is this...we ate snacks first and then had nothing to look forward to, so practice suffered because of it. The snacks always seem like a reward, albeit not free, from Honcho, as an acknowledgment that we've done a good job.
Couple this misstep with the fact that Honcho didn't take his pants off at practice, as he did Sunday, and it was one brutally long practice for the Egg Babies.
Now, I can't go into specifics about songs, because the set is always top secret...but let me say this, its possible that we've made a horrendous mistake when we picked out these songs. There's something missing. Maybe its missing Jeff Conlin. Maybe its the lack of a bonafide No. 1 single. Maybe its because I have to do more high singing then I typically have to. Now now, I'm just being pessimistic. We're going to do okay.
Jazzconference Guy and I have an ongoing inside joke going between us. We typically use a hush voice of speaking whenever we reference it, so Orangey can't hear it. He's certain that its about him. Now, couple this with his disappointing second place finish in the Baltimore Sun Dog Photo Contest...triple it with the Coke Zero in the vending machine being sold out...quadruple it with the dance that we've forced him to do during MAJDBTS...and I think we're due to see a major meltdown later this week.
Last night was the second of six Egg Babies practices scheduled for this week. Just the same as Sunday, the six dudes showed up, while the four ladies readied their makeup and outfits for their appearances later in the week...
Imagine that last bit as being a lot more jokey than it may initially read.
For once, the five of us whom don't live at the Record Label building all arrived nearly simultaneously. Honcho Folds was busy with some sort of meeting when we arrived, so the five of us made the ill-advised decision to start the practice with a 45 minute snack break.
Now, don't get me wrong. There's nothing wrong with snacks. In fact, they're the single reason most of us manage to trudge through the 4 practices. Personally, when I'm singing Tiny Dancer, there are visions of raspberry cookies floating around in my brain. So, what happened last night is this...we ate snacks first and then had nothing to look forward to, so practice suffered because of it. The snacks always seem like a reward, albeit not free, from Honcho, as an acknowledgment that we've done a good job.
Couple this misstep with the fact that Honcho didn't take his pants off at practice, as he did Sunday, and it was one brutally long practice for the Egg Babies.
Now, I can't go into specifics about songs, because the set is always top secret...but let me say this, its possible that we've made a horrendous mistake when we picked out these songs. There's something missing. Maybe its missing Jeff Conlin. Maybe its the lack of a bonafide No. 1 single. Maybe its because I have to do more high singing then I typically have to. Now now, I'm just being pessimistic. We're going to do okay.
Jazzconference Guy and I have an ongoing inside joke going between us. We typically use a hush voice of speaking whenever we reference it, so Orangey can't hear it. He's certain that its about him. Now, couple this with his disappointing second place finish in the Baltimore Sun Dog Photo Contest...triple it with the Coke Zero in the vending machine being sold out...quadruple it with the dance that we've forced him to do during MAJDBTS...and I think we're due to see a major meltdown later this week.
Areas of Expertise
What am I going to do with this space? I don't have a crazy amount of knowledge or insight into any specific area of life. So, I expect this blog to be a cornucopia of somewhat sensible musings on things that I enjoy.
Maybe I'll offer my thoughts on the MLB Winter Meetings. Maybe I'll post a few half-assed record reviews. Maybe I'll tell you about my walk to work. Maybe I'll tell you what happened on Journeyman last night.
With the exception of this particular post, all entries are guaranteed to start uber-strong, only to fade into nothingness with nary a conclusion.
Maybe I'll offer my thoughts on the MLB Winter Meetings. Maybe I'll post a few half-assed record reviews. Maybe I'll tell you about my walk to work. Maybe I'll tell you what happened on Journeyman last night.
With the exception of this particular post, all entries are guaranteed to start uber-strong, only to fade into nothingness with nary a conclusion.
My First Blogging Mistake
Hello Blogging World,
Whenever I sign up for a new service, I spend an inordinate amount of time perusing the "Settings" tab. I'm a real sucker for customization. Oddly though, my blog currently looks like every other blog you've ever seen. I feel like I made some good "Settings" decisions, but where are the fruits of my labor? Was it all for nill?
I discovered almost immediately that my first terrible mistake at Blogger.com was when I checked a little box next to something that said "Show transliteration button for your posts?" I'll be the first to admit that I have very little understanding as to what transliteration means, but it seemed like a feature that would make my blog seem more worldly, so I absolutely had to have it. Well, it turns out that this transliteration business is just fancy talk for turn your blog into gibberish. Instantly. I've since turned it off.
These guys know what I'm talking about. Am I right, people??!?
No, but really, I mean no offense to the Hindi language.
Whenever I sign up for a new service, I spend an inordinate amount of time perusing the "Settings" tab. I'm a real sucker for customization. Oddly though, my blog currently looks like every other blog you've ever seen. I feel like I made some good "Settings" decisions, but where are the fruits of my labor? Was it all for nill?
I discovered almost immediately that my first terrible mistake at Blogger.com was when I checked a little box next to something that said "Show transliteration button for your posts?" I'll be the first to admit that I have very little understanding as to what transliteration means, but it seemed like a feature that would make my blog seem more worldly, so I absolutely had to have it. Well, it turns out that this transliteration business is just fancy talk for turn your blog into gibberish. Instantly. I've since turned it off.
These guys know what I'm talking about. Am I right, people??!?
No, but really, I mean no offense to the Hindi language.
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