Wednesday, October 19, 2016

E-Mails Vs. Females

  • I Go To Tipitina's
  • Terrible CD Exchanged
  • Wednesday Night Off; Strings Haven't Arrived Yet
 I was on my bike, headed out, on this late Wednesday afternoon.

I had woken in the early afternoon with the sun bright and much of the day still ahead of me, but found that I felt like laying there and sleeping longer; no doubt because I had eaten a lot the night before, and especially because I had eaten a couple of eggs.

Chicken eggs.

It really had been probably something like 9 months since I had eaten any egg of chicken.

...The Itching Or The Egg?

I had had an immediate negative reaction to the eggs, a couple of jolts of itching sensations along what I am sure are the "meridians" that acupuncturists work with, this on around the cheek; I didn't like the hue of my skin color in the morning, either.

I had gotten up to have "midnight snacks" at all hours of the morning.

I was on a mission to go to the Goodwill and exchange a CD which I had unwittingly paid $2.17 for, the previous day, because it was just that bad.

I bought it, thinking (it was entitled "Dance Explosion, 1998" by the way) that I could lift songs off of it and convert them to my style, so they could function as foils to what people might expect to hear out of me on the street; kind of like: Was that white Bob Dylan type dude doing Notorious B. I. G.?!? type of thing...

I guess I wasn't thinking.

I don't think I have ever in my life brought back a CD, hoping to exchange it; knowing that I am never, ever going to listen to it again.

The music on this disc reminded me of how I hated it, back then. I could almost recall times and places and, I think there was like one time when I had flipped my car's radio to it, listened for about 10 seconds with an incredulous look on my face, and then said "Dur!!" out loud as I poked at the station change button.

And it surely reminded me of say, delivering a pizza to a house wherein lived a bunch of wanna-be thugs, and they've got the stuff cranked, and I have to stand there waiting for them to go get the money that they should have had ready; and wanting to just get the hell out of there and away from the Chinese water torture of the repeated phrase in the song.

This was pretty much in the genre of "House Music," as it was called in 1990.

A Disc For A Disc
Today, the Goodwill Manager was willing to let me put the Dance Explosion back on the rack; I even had opened the case and showed him that the disc was still in excellent condition and that all the most pathetic sounds that I have ever heard in my life played fine without skipping, etc; and let me select another disc.

Any other disc in the world, I thought. I even felt a sense of liberation.

I could take a chance and grab something that looks interesting and might be good, but might also kind of suck, but could never out-suck the Dance Explosion disc. I was going to improve my plight. 

I could grab the Madonna CD that I have never heard of; I have nothing to lose, I thought. She usually has excellent material, written by fine composers. I like her voice. 

I'm not very informed about the realities of any negative effects that Madonna might have had on our culture. 

I have heard it said that she was instrumental in turning "a whole generation of 15 year old girls into sluts," and that this has been a plague upon us.

It could be that they were headed towards being sluts anyways, and just chose Madonna as someone to identify with.

But, whatever the case, I would argue that, In order to turn a whole generation of 15 year old girls into sluts, you have to have some bitchin' music; that's just part of the package.

I was ready to grab "Ray of Light," which I've never heard of, by Madonna, off of the 2 dollar CD rack at the Goodwill to replace the Dance Explosion, 1998 CD, but saw the disc pictured above, and realized that it had indeed been what I should have grabbed, had it been there the day before.

It contains the kind of music that I am looking for, with Disco being pretty fertile ground for doing re-makes of. This is the kind of music which was only "sampled" and then placed as the background, in an unflattering light, to the dance songs on the "explosion" disc.

Tonight's Presidential Debate Between Trump And Clinton Forecast

Tonight's transcript:

Trump: "E-mails!!!!"
Clinton: "Females!!"
Trump: "E-mails!!!"
Clinton: "Females!!"
"Turn whose mic off? His??"

Tipitina's Studio: The Catch

I went to Tipitina's and checked the place out and talked to the guys. The "catch" is that the place is pretty booked up. The next available studio time, I was told, was November 15th, on a Tuesday, and then 2 days later.

As I talked to the guy, I noticed that the studio was not in use, and mentioned it to him. I thought that a studio that is booked up so far in advance would have musicians trying to utilize every second of time. The guy told me that the time had been booked by the two 20 something, Caribbean looking skinny dreadlocked guys that I had seen sitting on a curb outside.

"They're taking a break," he said.

If I had my guitar, and had been up to speed on the equipment, I would have asked him if I could go in there and record some kind of track while they were out. They were out the whole 45 minutes or so that I was touring the place and talking to the guy.

Tipitina's Studio: The Solution

The next available time at the studio is a month away, but...

A lot of the time in the near future has been booked by none other than Jim, the artist.

Jim loves to collaborate with other musicians, and so, if I were to show up on a day when Jim has the place to himself for most of the day (like next Wednesday) it is highly likely that he would play on one of my songs, while I basically recorded it, intending it to go on a future CD, in such a way that Jim's musical part could be edited out, if necessary, and I would be totally up for playing on one of his Frank Zappa inspired sounding songs...

1 comment:

alex carter said...

You could try duck or quail eggs; those last are available in Asian markets for a bit over a dollar a dozen, which equate to two chicken eggs. Duck eggs are a bit bigger than chicken eggs.

If you become a go-to sideman to some of the regulars like Jim at Tipitina's, you could get a real "in" in recording yourself, and in the music scene there in general.

It seems that the dependable guy is a big thing in music. "Showing up is 90%..." and all that. You certain have tons of musical knowledge and guitar knowledge. Yeah, I rag on your singing because to me, it's rather awful. But then to me, the epitome of the male voice and style is Nat King Cole. Obviously, if your idols are Dylan and Elvis Costello, you're not going to sound like that. I even understand the singer or as I'd probably call him, "singer", Tom Waits even screams and stuff to intentionally make his voice rougher. Ouch! So don't listen to me too much! You know a shitton about music that I'll likely never learn. I force myself to read off of notes, and may someday get somewhat competent at it, but frankly for me I just "call up" what I know from inside my head and play off of that, like the musical version of a talking parrot. So what do I know?