Larry runs my mixes through the Turd Polisher 2000. Anti-suckification set to 11.

I can't believe I'm going through with this.

Labels: 1369, music

In a couple of weeks you will get to meet the new band.

Some hints, courtesy artists more wise than I:

Jed Davis

I decided to go with a band name for my next project, the essentially solo Congregation Of Vapors. Only problem was that "The Congregation Of Vapors" is a mile long and almost impossible to say. And you have to explain it, or else British people think it refers to farts. I've been in The Hanslick Rebellion for almost 15 years; I'm a little tired of explaining the meaning of band names (especially since I still have no idea what "The Hanslick Rebellion" actually means).

Jason Martin

Make up bands and science. Pretend to be each member of the band. This does not have to be based in plausibility. You can have cops parking in doughnut holes if you really want, but I would definitely not recommend that one. What if you were the shady character who plays bass in this band you just made up? How would they play? Maybe you're not even a human being. NOW how would you play?

Yeah, its hard. Time to practice not being you. This is to prepare for overdubs. If you are you each time you add an instrument to your piece, it's a bad piece.

Ralph Ellison

"Ah," I can hear you say, "so it was all a build-up to bore us with his buggy jiving. He only wanted us to listen to him rave!" But only partially true: Being invisible and without substance, a disembodied voice, as it were, what else could I do? What else but try to tell you what was really happening when your eyes were looking through? And it is this which frightens me:

Who knows but that, on the lower frequencies, I speak for you?

And speaking of low frequencies: we're mastering the record tomorrow with Larry. Wish us luck!

Labels: 1369, music

I busted out the Telecaster again to fill in on lead guitar for good ol' Mario Sevayega last night at Arlene's Grocery in NYC.

Bobbi Rae played the hell out of the drums.

Malcolm Gold (pictured above rockin' the iPhone) played the hell out of the bass.

Bryan Thomas frantically tried to catch up.

Over the course of the evening we laughed about Boondocks, Bernie Mac, getting stuck on the FDR ("You have no options"), and a million other things. Including ourselves.

Before the show we made an impromptu trip around the corner to the Living Room and stumbled onto Theresa Andersson's soul crushing set, which included this song. Just like that. 700,000 hits and climbing. Did I mention that it was soul crushing?

Also: Mario's cousin was in the house for our set. She was very sweet. In fact, everyone in Mario's crew last night was very cool.

Good times y'all.

Labels: live, music

Amy's back in town. Caroline and Sten oblige.



FLICKR: Photo Set | Slideshow

Labels: music, photos