Aaaannnddd... the dream is over. Back to work today.
I'd never heard of Demdike Stare before last Thursday night. We were sitting around in the hotel room in Wisconsin after spending the day at House on the Rock, and I happened across this, which led me to the group's 2018 album Passion, which is fantastic. Reminds me a bit of the first time I heard Adult, way back on the Erase Errata remix EP that has since disappeared from this reality completely.
I think.
Playlist from 12/17:
Kevin Morby - Singing Saw
Calexico - Even Sure Things Fall Through
Calexico - The Black Light
Exhalants - Eponymous
Pastor T.L. Barrett & The Youth for Christ Choir - Do Not Pass Me By, Vol. II
The Knife - Silent Shout
Cash Money (Audio) - Green Bullet
Card of the day:
Right now, I'm reading this as successfully reintegrating back into my routine, which I have seem to done fine.
Saturday night my cousin Charles introduced me to Kevin Morby. It was late, there were a handful of people, all of us speaking passionately about this and that, so I couldn't really hear the music as it dwindled out of my small blu tooth speaker placed behind my parents' basement bar, but Charles' recommendations are always fantastic, even if I'm not always in the right headspace to completely sync with them.
No problem in the 'sync' department this time.
Sunday at Midway Airport I put on Morby's 2016 album Singing Saw and it became my travel album for the day, the 5 1/2 hour musical loop that got me through take off, flight, and departure in a beautifully fleeting hypnogogic trance. Needless to say the album is not only fantastic, but endeared to me now for all time.
Re-acclimating to LaLaLand and what we refer to as 'normal life' because here I don't eat terribly, drink full throttle every night, or dabble in anything beyond the occasional vape. Part of that re-acclimation process was as simple as putting some vinyl the turntable and just chilling the f*&k out. I led the way with a wonderful gift I received from Mr. Brown while I was in:
That's right! The 20th anniversary vinyl edition of Calexico's seminal The Black Light album. I'll be honest - back in the day Mr. Brown was always more into these guys than I was; Even Sure Things Fall Through was the album that hit me the most, with the very Badalamenti opener Sonic Wind virtually assuring my allegiance, and Feast of Wire played a pretty big role in my initial soundtrack upon moving to Los Angeles, but I've often had a hard time finding the right headspace to fit Calexico in on a semi-regular basis. And something about that seems to have changed, as my moods and headspace grow and expand. For almost ten years now I've experienced an increasingly strong connection to Metal in most of its forms (especially the newer, stranger mutations like Blut Aus Nord and The Body) because it's music that helps me write. Often even if I'm in the mood for slower, quieter tunes to listen to while writing it I have to jack the headphone volume because I primarily do the big work in a public place that pipes in music. Also, if I'm lagging, metal kicks my ass in gear. That said, my walk to said writing place is mellow and peaceful, and sometimes of late my morning music leans away from metal, as does my evening, at-home-on-the-record-player listening, so this is perfect. And, The Black Light is a beautiful record, as are the re-issue's linear notes, which are partially (or maybe entirely - they're long and I haven't had a chance to finish them yet) written by Calexico co-founder Joey Burns, so it's a wonderful window into the band and the situations/thoughts/experiences that led to the record's creation.
Playlist from Sunday, 12/16:
Kevin Morby - Singing Saw
Daughters - You Won't Get What You Want
Calexico - The Black Light
Card of the day:
The journey home is over, the journey back to a productive reality begins today.
Deer Valley Lodge, Wisconsin. Woke up at roughly 8:00 AM and was moved to put this song on. I've posted Synchroncity II here before, and I'm sure I'll post it here again. Not just my favorite song by the Police, but one of my favorite songs of all time.
I'm playing this off my old iPod, the one that's not linked to my Apple Music account. Playing this device is always interesting, because it's kind of a time capsule. Since subscribing to Apple Music, I keep this iPod separate and synched to my original library, so I only have access to music I manually ripped myself or acquired through iTunes/Bandcamp/Amazon. And after deleting a bunch of tunes from the library on that Mac, I'm actually afraid to even sync this again, so the last sync is kind of a permanent thing at this point, thus, it's like looking into my head a year and a half ago.
Playlist from 12/13:
Black Sabbath - Vol. 4
Grimes - Oblivion
Foster the People - Torches
Saturday, December 15th:
Black Sabbath, Vol. 4 has not only been a constant companion throughout most of my life, it's also been a constant companion on this trip, being that it's the only cassette I could find to play in my Dad's truck when I borrow it. And really, Vol. 4 is probably a 'desert island' album for me, anyway, so no complaints here.
I am exhausted. My trips home always end up being hectic, because I try so hard to see everyone as much as I can. And there's always a lot of people I want to see, and some people that I don't see or fail to spend as much time with as I would like. Today is going to be mellow. I think.
House on the Rock in Wisconsin is an unbelievable adventure, a veritable sensual smorgasbord of tchotchke insanity spread out and displayed over an architectural mind-fuck that might even trump the Winchester house, which I visited circa 2007, the Hearst Castle - also 2007- or the Barnum home in Florida, which I saw in 2012. I guess I've been collecting these kinds of experiences for years and didn't even notice it. House on the Rock? Probably my favorite, and it's led me to want to re-read and watch Neil Gaiman's American Gods, which I read back when it was first published and so, hardly remember.
Issue #1 of my comic collaboration with artist Jonathan Grimm is fully mocked up and ready for the final touches. We used scissors, tape, and plastic page protectors to figure out the exact placing of the word bubbles, now John can finish the gray washing, digitally add the words, and wha-lah! We start issue #2, which is written (1st draft), sketched and somewhat laid out. While working last night, John provided the tunes to set the mood. He's a big swamp/southern/doom rock guy, so we used his selections to provide the appropriate soundtrack. He may have made me a Down fan, which I did not expect to ever type, considering my disdain for Phil Anselmo.
Playlist from 12/14:
Lots of 1st Wave on XM radio during our road trip. I'm going to assemble a playlist and post it here at some point.
CCR - Green River
COC - No Cross No Crown
Down - NOLA
Black Label Society - Sonic Brew
Card for the day:
That I'm not seeing everyone I want to? On. The. Nose.
I am LOVING this new Boy Harsher! Can't wait for the album.
Off to Wisconsin this morning, to visit a place integral to American Gods. If it's as cool as it sounds, I may post pictures here tomorrow or Saturday, we'll see. And still hoping K gets to see some snow.
Playlist from yesterday:
Reverend Horton Heat - Whole New Life
Corrosion of Conformity - No Cross No Crown
New music from John Garcia and the Band of Gold. I'm a big fan of Kyuss, especially ...And the Circus Leaves Town and Blues for the Red Sun. I never really kept up with Mr. Garcia afterward though. This sounds great to me. Looking forward to the record, pre-order it HERE.
It's amazing how much great music came out of the California Deserts in the late 90s/early 00s. Having played a bit there myself, I can attest to the fact that there's a beautifully haunting undercurrent of inspiration that people tap into. Has a bit to do with Gram Parsons and his death, a little bit more to do with the alien landscape. That said, the sound on this track reeks of 'desert', but Nate Klein's gorgeous cinematography play with a mostly urban landscape, so there's almost a disconnect, but one that disappears when we get that shot at about 00:54 of what looks to me like the highway leading into Twenty-Nine Palms - you just don't have those kinds of hills in LA - and then the pedigree becomes visible once again. It's a similar vibe to the first Queens of the Stone Age album, which also played with a low-income urban vibe juxtaposed against the desert. Works well, and it really puts you there. That's the lifeblood of California, not the money and fame. We're an artificial human paradigm forced into a desert. And in the end, Mother Nature always wins, sometimes you just need a longer timeline to see it.
Spent a nice six hours or so working on The Legend of Parish Fenn with Jonathan Grimm last night. Seeing this thing laid out in the flesh blows my mind - John's art has come such a long way, same with my words, and laying out mock word bubbles over the art thrilled me to no end. Here's a sneak peak:
Playlist from 12/12:
Moderat - II
Zeal & Ardor - Stranger Fruit
Ghost -Meliora
Various - Twin Peaks (Music from the Limited Event Series)
Secret Premiere Album for Friend's Band
Type O Negative - Dead Again
Card of the day:
Victory and arrogance. Check. These are two sides of the same coin for some; I myself have never relied on arrogance to get me through the day, I just don't have the self-importance. I know when I do something that sucks, and I know when I do something that's good. The card warns about keeping on the fine line of living with - and more importantly talking about - these. Parish Fenn? Good. The final scene in ShadowPlay, Book 1? So far, not good. It's driving me fucking crazy. Literally. I can feel myself carrying all kinds of neurosis at this point, all voices screaming "Finish the fucking thing." But I can't quite get it where I want it. Seven years I've been working on this (with a year off to do the shorts in Collection of Desires, which in turn led to me having a different outlook on ShadowPlay, which I'd mistakenly thought was finished). End result? It will be awesome when it's done, I just have everything else on hold and a whole lotta self confidence issues until that happens. But seeing Fenn and then this card together now? It helps.
After a conversation with a friend, I'm really re-assessing this year's return of the band Daughters. Here's some live footage I watched in the middle of the night last night (that's now! I'm all messed up on time this trip).
The weather in Chicago is COLD, and I've taken a bit of a hit. Or, my day of feeling like shit was reaction to another fairly heavy drinking late night, the after-show for the Drinking with Comics On the Road Special: Chicago, which just went up on Apple, Spotify, and Google Play.
Read the first two trades of Warren Ellis and Jon Davis-Hunt's Wildstorm reboot last night in between editing the audio for the new episode. THEY ARE INCREDIBLE, and have surely set me off an an Ellis-jag as soon as I return home and get to my bookshelves. First up? Planetary, the last issue or trade or whatever was delayed for years back in the day, I have still never read.
Playlist from 12/10 was non-existent.
Playlist from 12/09:
Black Sabbath - Children of the Grave (Vol. 4 import)
Arab Strap - The Red Thread
Tom Waits - Rain Dogs
When I first moved to LaLaLand in 2006, I'd come home every October with a small cache of CDs. Eventually, of course, technology prevailed and my travel bag got lighter with the iPod; I bought one of those handy cassette to 1/8th jacks and music could follow me even in my Dad's truck, which only had CD and cassette capabilities. So far this trip I can't find that damned device, and in a search for something to listen to yesterday on my way to see Jonathan Grimm hock his wares at the Miskatonic Brewery's most recent art show, I found this in my dad's glove box, no doubt left by me several years before:
The find dovetailed nicely with waking up this morning and finding Mr. Brown had texted me that Pitchfork's Sunday Album this week is Sabbath's Paranoid, written by Grayson Haver Currin. I pretty much hate pitchfork except for this weekly column, and if you're a Sabbath fan, this is a great read. You can find the article HERE.
All this fits, because I can't come home and not become immersed in Sabbath, so the cassette was more a spiritual omen or reminder than it was a coincidence. My parent's place breathes Sabbath to me; some of my favorite and most vivid memories of the heavily wooded property where I grew up are of my friend Jake and I getting stoned and listening to Sabbath. Not just listening; this was clinical. We reveled in it, picking lyrics apart and building the exo-skeletons of our own philosophy around some of the words in the songs - especially the ones on Sabotage - the riffs and rhythms serving as mnemonic anchors, activation triggers for me later in life (sadly, Jake did not make it to 'later in life'; that's shit I work through in my writing, if you know where to look), so that the simple act of sitting in a car behind the house at 42 years of age and hearing the opening riff of Wheels of Confusion reactivates the assuredness Jake and I had at twenty-years old that the overall pull of the Universe was a positive, loving one, and no matter what I was struggling with it was transitory because that is the nature of our reality, transition.
