Maybe it’s denial, but I’m not gonna sweat that stuff now. I’m gonna keep my focus on playing and writing music and somehow things will line up. I have files of lyrics up in the clouds. I hear things in conversation, or on the radio or I read them in books or magazines at the doctor’s office. I herd these thoughts into their appropriate files and then I stare at the screen with the guitar in my hands, wrapping melodies around uploaded scribbles and watch the song embryos progress into recognize-able life forms. Sounds fun and exciting, doesn’t it? Mainly it’s slow, boring, lonely work, but that’s art for ya. Careful what you wish for.
I think the new record will be about people. People and their cell phones. People slowly losing their ability for genuine human interaction. Like a frog in a slowly boiling pot of water, little by little we’re giving up our ability to talk, face-to-face in exchange for new gadgets and instant, unlimited access to lots of useless content. Why go out anymore? But wait, there’s an apparition, a ghost in your head. And though it’s in grave condition, rock and roll’s not dead. Rock and roll’s not dead. There’s a crack in the boiler room and the steam is escaping. Artists to the life rafts. We’re floating on crackers and still writing titanic tunes.
info about our big SF gig on March 15 here:
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