short sarcastic poetry break

I’m in the middle of a long, tiring posting. I thought I’d post a poem I may have posted before. This is because friend and fellow Austinite Brett Randell posted a nice poem that was wistful and image filled and sad. It reminded me of moving and leaving things behind and almost-cryings.

But this is the poem I feel like today. Because I am angry and pissy and creeped out and viscious. Perhaps it is because I am moving and there is still so much to pack. I don’t know. Maybe I still have a lot of practicing to do. I have a LOT to do. But maybe it is because I see so much STUFF that just …
… bothers me and I just don’t… SAY … anything.

Who knows these things.

Poem->

So you are sarcastic -
clever… 
I applaud, for never since
the dawn of time
has anyone accomplished this;
this subtlety!

Perhaps one day you will be asked to host your
own sardonic version of what 
nights like this should be!

Your tone suggests a firm hand,
it suggests that
we would not go gently  

(and my friends
just occasionally
wonder why
I hold my mystic cards of rhyme
So close beside
My own Vest.)

Incidentally with some restraint 
I write of this …
and other small
artistic humiliations
but I hesitate to share them… 

I cringe! I have already penned
your scathing crisp lampoon of me!
It is a pretest I have taken..
failed abyssmally.
This exam of twists,
of course it leaves me shaken
I’m an offering of unwanted mincemeat now
at the great bright vegetarian buffet
you have created  

ack!

I am going to try to get more in touch with “The Austin Thing.”

That is what I call it. Randall talks about things that are going on all the time, as though I would just know them.

I do not, because I am a hermit. I am Out of The Loop. I do not think he realizes how much I rely on him for connectivity. I’m sure he would be fine with it though. He’s good like that. He likes to be helpful. I suppose this is why he is a good engineer. At his best, I think he is a scary engineer. This is why I need to be home-centric now. He’s probably the reason I got things done in SongFu, a couple of those close times. He’s EERILY talented.

I’m going to write about song contests though, and the “internet” thing (as I’ve also been calling it); soon, soon! Because I think that I’ve been doing the right thing with myself all along.

I don’t really know what “New Model Musician” means. Not totally. Not entirely. I could look it up in the dictionary or on the web. There’s already a label with the name, and DFTBA (the label whose forums are hosting the transplants from Too Much Awesome, the web community which my Song Fu co-competitors Mike Lombardo
(he’s got a CD out, folks… Kevin wants you to know … this …)

BY THE WAY. SAMMY MAKES THESE VIDEOS.

and Jeff MacDougall (by the way, nice slogan! ..) founded on ning (ack!) – they absorbed the TMA community after ning went kinda “corporate.” There’s different facets to that story, but it’s nice that the people continue.

I really am glad of the Spintown blog, because right now, that’s the contest that is piquing my interest. For a while I was doing Nur Ein (I made it into 4 (which really means 5 because of Round Zero (which I blew on so don’t listen without listening to the rest of me!) rounds before I got sick … That doesn’t mean that I won’t do Songfight ever, which is where they were forum-ing about nur ein.

I have lots of ideas, of course.

For now I will finish my list. You know … at the other place. And then do some other stuff. Yeah.

Professional Underpants Time

This guy Russ Rogers who is a one-mander called Rusty’s Rocking Jamboree (who I have to call “AT” “Rocking Jamboree” (@RockingJamboree) on Twitter made a Commie-lover commie loving song on the YouTube and it’s cutecutecute! Plue he talked about me on the Twitter, which nobody does. So I watched his video and then worked on my Youtube account, then fell asleep at the cafe!

He’s got more videos on his myspace. Prolly on his legitimate site too.

Which brings up another excellent point. There’s band camp. There’s that other site that the Fu-ers (including me) are doing … That Mike Lombardo site … Too Much Awesome. After much deliberation, knowing full well that I was THIS AWESOME

{offensive video removed; inwhich I am no longer awesome}

I said I was like, a level two awesome …

Anyway … this all reminds me of this thing I used to do back when I had musicians that used to hang out with me. Before I didn’t. Even though now I do again (yay! praise be! whoooo!). I called it the Professional Underpants Group.

It’s kind of based on that urban legend, which may be true about how in those Parisian salon days they may have thrown underwear on the stage in Beatlemania-like appreciation … (here’s a good Chopin book about those times … and here’s – by the way a REALLY NEAT THING that the folks from the Piano World Forums did.).

Consequently, there’s a musical called Lisztomania. It is an “erotic, exotic electrifying rock fantasy.”

I’m at my Engineer’s house. I can finally talk about him and his going-s on more freely. Like that he has a girlfriend who massages stuff. I don’t like to talk about people freely because it’s really none of other people’s business. That’s my philosophy on blogging anyway.

She actually massages people. That sounded really bad. She’s a professional. We’re all professional here.

Anyway, one of his projects is the Disciples of Sound. He’s doing their CD. He asked my opinion after he played a track. I had just gone to see them live at Headhunters a couple days ago. Headhunters is a club that is located right next to Hoboken Pies somewhere downtown. Apparently, my friend says that it’s the sweet kind of New York pie, rather than the salty one. And that the water makes the pizza. Not here in these pies, but in actual New York. I told him to bring pizza water next time he went to New York to visit his parents. I’d tell him to get his parents to bring me some pizza water, but this guy has sent his extremely classy mother my extremely UNCLASSY list of our compiled horrible band names. When they come here, they fly here in a very small plane. They think that I am weird enough.

I have this fantasy of Mike and I tossing perfect pizza in a pristine kitchen that looks like a lab though. I slide down the fireman’s pole from my library into my studio. Then I go into the conservatory (where the piano is) which is of course connected to my little studio (my studio is not very big because although I am an awesome and famous song-writer composer-performer chickie, I am kind of still a dilletante engineer – having no taste for numbers and no attention span for album names or band statistics or gear specifications). I go through the secret passageway in my conservatory into the kitchen. Why yes, it does look like the one in Clue.

The opinion I gave him on the Disciples sucked, and probably didn’t help matters at all. I can’t give a good opinion of harder bands. I’m feeling pretty shitty about my engineering skills lately you might-could-tell, which is probably why I haven’t really been on the ball about setting up my studio. The lack of fireman’s pole or secret passagway or light-filled-conservatory-with-BadAssed floor-which houses-a-Fazioli could also have something to do with this.

… I haven’t really been doing anything about anything other than learning to play jazz piano. I’m not really finishing songs. I’ve started looking at venues, but you kind of have to comit to that intention. It’s a step. People all around me are mounting major video making campaigns. I’m NOT on the band wagon. I’m freaking out about this. Ack!

But it’s good that I’m learning to play jazz piano. It’s turning me into a bad ass piano player. I know though at some point, I’m going to have to crack open Cubase and deal with my damn problems. I’m going to have to book gigs, and take photos of my self, and videotape things. And have a real recording made of myself.  And finish cleaning out those two rooms so I can put up the friggin soundproofing, which has been sitting there like a constant reminder of how I suuuuuucccckkkk.

He’s editing drums now. Not the Disciples of Sound. It’s funny how he talks. Watching him do drummy-druminator thingys (not the technical term for what he is doing, and part of my problem), leads me to understand a few key things:

1. Saying “cockn’balls a lot may turn me into a better engineer, over time.
2. I really can’t give good feedback on stuff that is “heavy  music.” Seriously. I have nothing meaningful to say. I just smile and look like I have the IQ of a champagne grape. This will not turn me into a better engineer, over time.
3. It would be real helpful if I had two large monitors in my life because having everything out on huge-o screens it AWESOME for big, fat editing.
4. I’m happy I’m a Steinberg girl still (even though I know not what I am doing), and ProTools can still suckit.
5. I LOOOOVVVVEEEE Leslie speakers

Habana Ho

I got an actual job. You know, where I work. Like, for money. It’s really kind of weird.

Hence the title of this post, Habana Ho… I guess I’ll have to learn everything there is to know about cigars.

I actually did have those two “auditions” over the past week or so. Predictably, none went well. Friggin’ Chronicle!

EVENING: petty jealousies, blockages, reflections, a try at a restaurant review, and a bit of a “vagina monolouge”

SATAN’S GUITAR (a very long introduction)

I am a songwriter with a blog. There is a blinking cursor in front of me – like you see in so many television shows when you are supposed to be working but you are not because the stakes are high and you’d rather crawl back into bed and eat a Three Musketeers bar.

I have a live journal, but it is private. I am always thinking of perfection when I write … should I post an official link to the Three Musketeers website? – so that my readers can link up to the history of these musketeers ..? then they can learn the history of both the candy bar, and the musketeers themselves … da, da, da.

Part of the problem, the reason that I don’t get any “work” done – is that I have a confession to make. It is why I have been hiding under my little rock for so long.

I am afraid of the internet. I have a phobia of large, uncontrolled spaces. I am afraid of what a lack of discretion might do to me. I’m afraid of all that time. I’m afraid of what a perfectionist might do in such a space, with all those tools.

Of course, if I actually sit in my own studio for any length of time, it takes me forever to get anything done. I’m actually having a huge problem with that, because I can’t work. I use EQ to apologize for my room, reverb to cover up crap. I’m pretty good at it – but I think in the back of my mind, isn’t there something better than this???

I’m inside a room that is on the major bird highway. And lately, by the time it’s the middle of the night (i.e. better for recording) – I’m in this dead-tired place. And we’ve gotten night birds in on the action now, anyway – like they know that there’s soundproof-free recording going on, because our psychopath raccoons have sent out a bulletin so I can have more Animal Kingdom interference in my life.

I feel as though I complain a lot.

Also, I am defining “work” inappropriately. Just to give myself some credit. I am an extremely prolific songwriter. I feel guilty saying this; as if I am not allowed to compliment myself. This seems to be one of those “things” in the music business that I’m not navigating well. You naturally want people to think you’re a bad-ass, but if I actually walk into a room and tell people “I wrote 37 songs last year and I’m actively in the middle of 54 more; I have learned to play the piano while blindfolded; listen to me play these things really, really fast (not that this matters in my specific field – if I was a concert piano player … I would not be cutting the mustard); da, da, da” … well if I tell people all this I sound like what they call in Australia a “show pony.”

I tell people that I can play many instruments, that if someone wanted a specific part done on a drumset I could do that too – and that I can also play a marimba with four mallets. People talk in the humidor that we hang out in (my husband and I) and I’m always thinking done it, done it, done it … This is of course, when I’m not thinking … [HUGE EDIT DONE LATER 1/21/2010]

My stories are all very weird, and kind of tend to quiet rooms – stop all conversation. “It was all going very well, until all communication was cut off / they died / my toenail was ripped off / etc.”

It’s hard to acquire gigs now based on such dubious connections/occurances.

But I have several of these. I’m high on technique and output … low on the people side of things – which actually includes recording and working with other musicians. The list of places I’ve played is actually pretty hefty – but would probably be met with a “nuh-uh … when did you play there???” Never mind, never mind … I’d say, I’m not allowed to talk about it, because [BIG EDIT SAME DATE]

This also includes the fact that sex and alcohol (which I also enjoy – but in a boring way, being a happily married lightweight … although I’m not judging); these things make these other musicians cooler and smoother than me. So I end up fading into the back of many of these social scenes.

I’m an extremely talented young lady with a severe networking handicap.

Chris Wall, who would probably not recognize me even if we were trapped together in a very small elevator … (and resultingly would not be reading this and would probably not mind being in my silly little blog); once borrowed my guitar from someone else who was also borrowing it. He looked down at it hopelessly and coined it “Satan’s Guitar.”  It is rather … difficult …  But I am not Satan.  Heh, heh, heh …

Have a nice day

FINIS

**********************

TTD: -Go to a nice cafe. WHILE THERE: Get some of that nice Hibiscus Mint tea – which is one of the top 5 reasons to live in South Austin. Revel in the absence of Satan-by-South-Washingmachine. Refine massive “list of things to do” (a work of things in progress)

- BEFORE LEAVING: Do “morning pages” (more on those later). When done, practice for 30 MINUTES [note to moi: NOT SIX HOURS]. While out, stick on earphones and go through songfiles from minirecorder and keep good stuff to work on (so I can finally finish ‘Charlatan.’)

-Come home. Finish Charlatan. this could be after martial arts (more on martial arts and charlatan later). Write about both things in blog.

Let this develop, mellow. See how it goes.

Stop freaking out.