BARRATOR

As I’m trying to write this, the same “Win an iPod” pop-up keeps distracting me and making me lose my focus. God damn these shitty PC’s. I miss my Mac whenever I’m at work. Speaking of work, I’m work-ing on looking for jobs and my new friend in a high place has been telling me how he’s going to help me out, so–as they say in the movies–keep your eyes to the skis!

“Jack White looks like Zorro on donuts.” Every time I see that quote it elicits quite a range of laughter, anywhere from a giggle to a bellow. Have I ever mentioned how I really don’t like the White Strips? Yeah, but I don’t care what you think. Well, that makes one of us!

Ugh… women.

Never one to rest on my laurels (or pillows, or my own bed, even) I’ve undertaken a new musical venture. I’ve already invoked slowcore bands, krautrock bands, post-rock bands, alterna-rock bands, shoegazer bands, singer/songwriters and geek-pop bands in my prior recording projects. Now I’m poised to revive the country-rock genre. That’s right kids, after ODing on The Byrds, Gram Parsons and Dylan for the past week or so, I’ve decided I want to try my hand at penning psychedelic pop melodies juxtaposed to prominent backbeats. Hooks galore! References to booze, drugs, sex and religion! Religion?

I wrote 3 (THREE?) tunes last night in the span of two hours that I think are all capable of being made into killer tunes with a little tweaking. They sound somewhere between Ryan Adams and Calexico, which I guess means I used too many minor chord changes. You know the saying–”you can take the boy out to dinner but you can’t take the “Emo” out of the boy!” Hopefully when Ilya gets back from LgAy and Zlotsky returns from Providence (the city in Rhode Island, not the care of a divine entity) we’ll record this stuff. I smell a slide guitar solo (or twelve).