October 9th, 2006

full life

the day after yesterday

1. It's still a bit surreal, to be sure.

I have my flash recorder on me, which we used to record yesterday's songwriting session, and I listened to a bit of the work we did. It doesn't sound particularly amazing; all that was notable about yesterday was that we were actively trying a new process. Instead of us just standing around and thinking about a particular musical impasse, we just played and experimented and tried new things, and after a particularly interesting take we'd play it back through the monitors. (This is something we should have been doing 2 years ago.) In any event, after a while I couldn't listen to it anymore.

During lunch I casually browsed through the Craiglist musician-wanted postings. Not that I have any intention of jumping headfirst into something else, of course; this was more out of curiousity than anything else. After 2 or 3 pages it all just started to bleed together into this depressing miasma of suckitude - it would seem that the only bands looking for guitarists today are into Mudvayne and Tool and such; everyone in NYC is deathly afraid of melody. The thing about Good Evening that was so frustrating is that as much as we loved our songs, our creative process was completely fucked; I'm not sure there's a single song we ever finished that didn't feature countless hours of yelling and crying and temper tantrums and whatnot. Yesterday I said as much and concluded that if that is indeed what it takes to succeed in a collaborative environment, then it seems pretty clear to me that I'm in the wrong business.

I don't necessarily have a plan at this moment. Now that I've cleared out my credit card debt, I'm very strongly considering splurging on a new laptop strictly devoted to ProTools and a midi keyboard and writing an album this winter, but that's kinda ridiculous - I can certainly write an album with what I have now; it's just that the recordings will sound shitty. And frankly, I really just ought to be worried about writing instead of anything else.

2. It's a good thing the Yankees are out of the playoffs, if for no other reason than I can have my brain all to myself, now. I'm still hungover from what happened in Detroit, although, really, if your postseason life depends on the arm of Jaret Wright, it shouldn't really come as a surprise. I'll be sad to see Joe Torre go, even though the man clearly had no idea how to manage a bullpen; I won't be sad to see A-Rod go, though. I'm sure we can get some pitching out of an A-Rod trade, anyway.

3. There's been any number of amusing things on the interweb of late; here's my 2 contributions.

a. Human Space Invaders
b. Queen v. 50 Cent mashup
full life

(no subject)

Forgot to mention this unbelievably wierd dream from this morning: Kath and I and my brother are at my mother's house (presumably for a weekend or something); it's night-time and for whatever reason I've woken up incredibly early and I'm wandering around in the garage. I look out the garage window and this gang of 4 older men pull into the driveway and kick open the door. They pull my mother out of bed and force her to cook this gigantic and rather involved breakfast. They've also started to kick down walls and have basically taken over the house in a very short amount of time. I am outraged and confront them; they say, "I'm sorry, but this is the way it's done. We are the Dwellers."