The Village Voice!!!

I am uber pleased to direct your attention to the Village Voice's Website for

Uncle LD's High Bias(podcast),

which includes a little track called
"Well Formed Man",
from my upcoming album, 'Sirens of Brooklyn.'

Thank you Uncle LD for including the track,
Track#4 on the album, btw.

Yipeee!!!

lyrics

There ain't nothin' better
than a well formed man,
when God didn't skimp on the time
he spent molding that clay in his hands.

There ain't nothin' better than a man with thoughts,
the kind that's aware that the head below his waist
ain't the only one he's got.

I've met so many men beyond repair.
I try to reach inside,
but there's nothing there.

Must I dig deeper?

Village Voice Podcast

I have some very exciting news to share.

High Bias by Uncle LD is a new Podcast on the Village Voice's website
hosted by
LD Beghtol.

Tune in this week to hear a song from my upcoming album, The Sirens of Brooklyn.
I won't tell you which one. You'll have to listen to find out.

Marlboro Man is #11

Marlboro Man made it's debut on
Sirius OutQ's Hot 20 List
two weeks ago at #20

This week, I am so excited to announce
that it has climbed to
#11.

The song is also being played on Last Call with Jeremy Hovies.

Show Your support!
Email a request for the song to be played.

Sirius OutQ is channel 106 on Sirius Sattelite Radio.

blah blah blah my visit home

This weekend,

I went home to Oklahoma to surprise my mother for her 50th birthday.

I became a cog in an elaborate plan to take a woman by surprise
who does not really like surprises so much and who
can tell when there is a scheme brewing,
long before you've even put the water on to boil.

So, my father bought my mother a red convertible as her gift.

My mother was distracted all day at a day spa where she had every flake of dry skin sluffed off and every fingernail, toe nail trimmed buffed, and polished. I was later told by my sister, that this day was one of the most stressful days she had ever experience, trying to keep my mother busy and unaware of the secret birthday plans. I only added to my poor sister's stress when I called her from the Minneapolis airport to find out who was going to pick me up when my plane landed. She of course handed the phone to my mother. I sang her happy birthday as overhead flight announcements bled into the phone.

When my mother hung up, she told my sister that I was in an airport or a train station. I have been known to take off on a whim, whether it's a trip to Scotland or California or Montreal. My mother didn't realize that I was on my way to see her, luckily. She thought that I was blowing off her birthday to jet set. haha.

I landed in Oklahoma and was picked up by my brother-in-law, Chris and driven to an undisclosed location where I sat in my mother's new car, awaiting my marching orders.

My mother, fresh from her multiple face and body treatments was escorted into the house where her friends and coworkers waited to jump out and yell "happy birthday." At that point, I was down the road, sitting in the convertible awaiting the word to bring the car around front. So, I received the call and drove the car into the driveway and then proceeded to hide behind my father's car.

My mother came out screaming and running towards the car, at which point I ran up behind her. She turned around and started screaming so loud that I think I may have permanent hearing damage. I was also seriously worried that she might have a heart attack. haha. Well, not funny, but seriously, she was that surprised.

All in all it was a great weekend. It was good to see the family and to joyride with the top down.

Climbing the Charts

Marlboro Man made it's debut on
Sirius OutQ's Hot 20 List
last week at #20

I'm pleased to announce that this week,
the song has climbed 6 slots to
the #14 position.

The song is also being played on Last Call with Jeremy Hovies.

Show Your support!
Email a request for the song to be played.

Sirius OutQ is channel 106 on Sirius Sattelite Radio.

A crumb to tide you over

My debut album was originally scheduled for release in June, but due to a few circumstances beyond my control
( I blame George Bush because everyone can get behind that)
It has been pushed back for a November release.

I feel bad about saying the cake was going to be ready, to have you sitting there on the sofa waiting with your empty plate, tapping your fork.

So, I've decided to throw some crumbs of sorts without giving so much away that I ruin your appetite.

in the next 24 hours a working version of the title track 'The Sirens of Brooklyn' will be up on myspace for you to preview. This is not the completed version, so think of it as a demo.

I also encourage you, if you wish to purchase the album when it is released to sign up for my e-list on myspace to be notified when the album is available for purchase.

I hope you enjoy this song, which has never been played live, written less than a month ago, about a very true life experience.

To You:
You know who you are, because there is no getting around the fact that this song is written about you. I hold no anger or malice, and I was apprehensive about putting this song on the album because I didn't want you to be mad at me. I promise that I will never reveal your name.

This song will be angry at you forever so that I don't have to be.

I still have my eyebrows

A heartfelt thanks to everyone who came out to Brooklyn to celebrate my birthday.
There's nothing like a grilled hotdog under a mulberry tree. I'm sad to say though that one of my favorite t-shirts is now ruined from all the berries, but I'll always have the memories.

such as...

Telling John"don't be afraid of the grill"

(cut to us getting close and him flinging a match onto the coals)

When the fire shot five feet up into the air, it was like Vietnam. John and I simultaneously dove backward, away from the flame. I am thrilled to announce that I still have my eyebrows.

Photo used with the kind permission of Carrie Thomas

Another Year Older

Today is my birthday, and I find myself turning 28. I have reached that point where birthdays are only as signifigant as their distance from 30. It's one more birthday before the big 3-0 and one more birthday as a guy in his 20's.

I have some sort of mental note that I should have accomplished more in my life at this point. I best get busy.

Marlboro Man is # 20

on Sirius OutQ's Hot 20.
You can listen to the Hot 20 on Sirius Satellite Radio
(channel 106)

Saturdays and Sundays 4-6pm (est.)

hosted by Jeremy Hovies.

You can also show your support by sending an email requesting
Marlboro Man, which is in rotation on Sirius OutQ's 'Last Call' as well.

Flying not Dying

Jeremy Hovies, Host of 'Last Call' on Sirius Satellite Radio's
OUTQ(channel 106) has a little thing called" fly or die Friday."

Listeners vote to decide if a song gets put into rotation or thrown in the dust bin.

I am so excited to announce that my song, 'Marlboro Man' was put through the gauntlet and has been given its wings!! Thank you to the listeners of 'Last Call' and to Jeremy Hovies!!!

You can send an email requesting that the song be played!! :)




Last Call with Jeremy Hovies Tuesday-Saturday
1am est-7am est
Sirius Satellite Radio- Channel 106
Available Nationwide.

Photography used with the kind permission of
Carrie Thomas

The Coney Island Tragedy

A cold wind blowing through Brooklyn today carried with it the smell of hotdogs.
If you listened hard enough you would also find that it carried the sounds of the craziest wooden rollercoaster ever.
The rollercoaster, in case you don't know, is called 'The Cyclone.'

At first site you wouldn't think it could scare your socks off, let alone your pants. Let me just say that it will take your shirt, your loose change, and quite possibly your soul.

I set out to ride this beast today with the lovely Carrie Thomas in tow. She brought her camera and we were also determined to take some glamour shots down on the pier. Unfortunately her camera battery suddenly went low and she couldn't continue shooting.

We went to two different stores in search of 3 volt batteries. I've never even seen a 3 volt battery, and I'm not quite convinced that they exist. The shopkeepers looked at us bewildered when we enquired about them. They too seemed not to have heard of these special batteries.

We decided to give up and head back to the boardwalk. I looked over at the cyclone to take in a voyeuristic glimpse at the people screaming and flailing. What I saw was quite shocking. Oh my god, quite shocking indeed. The coaster was stuck at the top of the first big climb and they were evacuating people and walking them down the tracks.

Carrie and I ran to get a closer look until we were standing under the great white beast gazing up as one by one the passengers of this doomed coaster ride were carefully taken down the tracks to safety. We are afterall ambulance chasers by nature. Carrie fussed with her camera trying to get a shot. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity to get a picture of the woman in the hot pink jump suit that was two sizes too small, uneasily wobbling her way down, gravity and the crowd below just begging for a mis-step.

So, the tragedy at Coney Island is this.

We went to take photos. It didn't happen.
We went to ride the cyclone. It didn't happen.
The biggest tragedy of all is that it was Carrie's first time on the Island of Coney and she didn't get to have a hotdog. Instead she had to settle for a sad piece of pepperoni that the wind whipped into her face, covering her in grease and cheese. The even sadder part is that when I said goodbye to her, I think there was still a bit of sauce on her forehead and I didn't say anything.

Apparently I'm going to burn in hell.

Well, I often display a photo from the lovely Carrie Thomas, but this blog will remain without photo in memory of those who lost their ride on the cyclone.

Like a child

I wish at times that I could look at the world with the eyes of a child.

New York is a city where one is constantly stimulated visually, sonicly, physically. The brain can't handle all this input, so a part of it is always short circuited. The result for me, is that it often takes a lot to excite me.

Yet, get me away from New York and I become spastic,climbing trees and running up mountains. I wonder if being away from New York for a long period of time will reroute my circuitry so that when I return, I will climb buildings and run up the avenues.

I live in a cultural center with boundless possibility and yet I generally only see the art of my friends/collaborators.
When I first moved here, I would go to every new museum exhibit and every gallery opening or performance art piece.

I was in Washington DC over Memorial Day Weekend and there in Dupont circle was a tiny girl in a sundress dancing, as a street performer sang a U2 cover. I envied her. She didn't care what anyone thought or if she was dancing the correct way. It was just the music and her soul connecting. I wish to see the world through the eyes of a child and sing and dance as if no one is watching.

Photography used with the kind permission of Carrie Thomas.

A whole lot of crazy

Someone who I consider rather crazy once said that the craziest thing you can ever say is
"I'm not crazy."

Saner words never fell from his mouth.

I've recently had to battle with a recurring theme in my life, perspective.
How do you know when you are right and someone else is wrong? Who is crazy and who is sane?...you or them?

I generally find that there is no black or white. Life is overwhelmingly grey. Neither of us is right or wrong and both of us are a bit of both.

I think the true test when faced with conflict is how you handle it. Do you try to dive into the situation and constructively solve it or do you drag the other person into your emotional tar pit, trying to find as many things you can to hurt and discredit their emotions and purpose in life?

Are you letting the wound fester or are you reaching for the rubbing alcohol?
It stings a little, I know.

My choice is to realize that I am not perfect. I make many decisions based on emotions and hope for the best. I also do my best to seek resolution in times of conflict. I do not have a problem with admitting fault when it is appropriate.

I don't want to open someone's hood and start hacking away at the machinery to see how much I can damage them. I want to look them in the eye and solve the problem. Unfortunately, We don't always get that opportunity.

So... Perspective. I recently had the thought that I could gain more perspective if I removed anything that might alter my perception of the world. So, I have given up caffeine and alcohol as some sort of test. I will let you know if I have some grand revelation. Maybe I'll discover that I am indeed crazy.

Fish Out of Water

I have always been a fish out of water,
flapping madly for wetness.

His Name is Cosmo

I would like to take this moment to congratulate my friend,
Laura Terruso, whose short film 'His Name is Cosmo' makes its NewFest premiere this weekend.

I encourage you all to go check it out. You only have two chances to see it, so I suggest you run, not walk to get your tickets.


more info

I bought the siren a pair of steel toed boots

I know what it is like to sing
someone towards me knowing that there are sharp rocks in the water between.
There is beauty in destruction. There is deep loneliness when you live on an island.

I can't help but sing. It is my infatuation. I would never want to wreck a ship. I can't stop it. No matter how hard I try, it possesses me and moves my limbs with puppet strings. I have no will to reach for scissors. I can't cut myself free. I must sing, knowing the consequences.

I bought my siren a pair of steel-toed boots because she asked me for them. She was a delicate slow child who loved to sit by the water for hours just staring at the waves, documenting the amount of froth each one produced. I envied her movements, like sap in the autumn. I tried to mimic them, but I was never successful.

I am too frantic and I want her to join me in my unsteadiness, so I bought her a pair of steel toed boots. They have sped her up and she wants to rock and roll. She wants pyrotechnics and reflective ribbons in her hair. I didn't know she had it in her. Who knew a girl who normally goes barefoot could take such a quick liking to leather and metal and malice?

The Siren

Don't ask the question.
You won't like the answer you get.
Just change your direction
or you're gonna hit.

cuz I am the siren
that pulls you into the rocks
and you are the sailor
who can't see the land up ahead.
You're tossed on a sea of my thoughts
pulling you closer
closer and closer

Just try to be patient.
Please, wait for the dawn.
Just wait til the sun hits the water.
When the sun hits the water,
I'll be gone.
I'll be gone, so gone.

Cuz I am the siren
that pulls you into the rocks
and you are the sailor
who can't see the land up ahead.
You're tossed on a sea of my thoughts
pulling you closer
closer and closer.

I don't know why I go walking at night
calling your name to the open sea.
You just come closer and closer
please don't listen to me.
I'm alone on this island
calling your name.

I'm the siren.
I'm the siren.
I'm the siren.

'The Siren' © 2000-06 Robert German

Any similarity to situations or individuals real, fictional or implied to be real or fictional is really fictional and purely the fabrication of the author's very unspecific imagination. No conclusions, facts, concepts, or opinions about individuals and/or situations real, fictional or implied to be real or fictional should be based upon the content of this rant.

I left you in Scotland

I loved Richard
with every thread of my 21 year old heart.
I met him in New York at a coffee shop in the West Village.
An older gentleman was trying to get him to go back to his apartment
to look at his dried roses.

Richard was beautiful.
Pale skin
light freckles
gingery hair
20 years old
just enough baby fat to make you want to pinch his cheeks.

We exchanged words with our eyes,
sentences even.

I found myself walking him back to his hotel because
he was lost. I don't think he was actually lost,
but it was a good way to get me to walk with him.

I loved his accent. It seemed that he worked hard to not have an accent,
but it always found its way out through his words. I loved Richard so much that I changed my long distance calling plan so that I could hear his voice every day.

He loved me with that intense fiery love that can only burn for someone you've given your virginity to.

I hurt you, Richard, and I am sorry.

From time to time I think of you and wonder where you are and what you are doing some 7 years later.

I wonder if you have forgiven me or forgotten me.

I remember fighting with you in the streets of Glasgow, you stopping me from taking the train to London. I remember sleeping on your floor in that awful flat with horrible shades of green,drinking too much tea, too many hard boiled eggs, and the beginning of my addiction to cadbury crunchies.

I left you in Scotland.

are you still there?


Photography used with the kind permission of the very talented
Carrie Thomas.

Censored

What would life be like if your freedom of speach were taken away?
What if someone controlled what you were able to say and write and express?
We must value our rights and be willing to fight for them on some level if we really want to keep them. I shudder to think of a world where I could not write and say what I feel.

I'm so thankful that is not the case.



Photography used with the permission of the talented miss
Carrie Thomas.

Any similarity to situations or individuals real, fictional or implied to be real or fictional is really fictional and purely the fabrication of the author's very unspecific imagination. No conclusions, facts, concepts, or opinions about individuals and/or situations real, fictional or implied to be real or fictional should be based upon the content of this rant.

Memorial Day weekend

I had the pleasure of seeing not only a Klezmer band perform in front of starbucks and a group of breakdancers, but also got to go to a hip hop dance party. Who knew one night could be so snazzy?




I also got to see the underbelly. It wasn't where I expected to find it. It wasn't a dark alleyway or a seedy bar or a broken down part of town with the hint of freshly burned crack in the air. No, it was the human underbelly, the sins of man, the selfishness and greed. It was jealousy with its green wings unfurled. It was restlessness and lack of sleep and lack of compassion...lack of forgiveness... lack of empathy.

There is a world that exists which is human. It is based on emotion and love and hate and passion. Then, there is a world of logic and reason and business and lines. The first, though many times thought to be human, is actually the animal side. It is instinctive and guttural and real. The second is a creation of society. It is a structure that does not gel with emotion.

I have seen the two collide in shards and years of pent up aggression and doubt bubble forth with ferocious froth. I have seen fists fly through panes of glass and pain unfurl, held back for so long.

I find that ultimately the crowds of people divide. Some go left and some go right and I am there, alone, in the middle. I pick up my feet and walk away, never to be part of either group, lucky to be blessed with at least a small amount of peace with the solitary path.

I explore the world alone and I observe from the outside. I went to a dance club and sat at the bar slowly working my way through three beers and watching the space fill with people, many of them trying so hard. I felt like a statue, almost invisible, but still there. I could see them all so clearly as being water glasses with varying degrees of emptiness, hoping that if they danced close enough to a fuller glass that some of the gyration might make the excess water spill into their own.

Oh, we are simple creatures full of lust and hunger. We yearn to be held but are so scared of feeling. I look from the outside,with downturned lips, fire in my eyes, glass in my belly.

I remember the ones who fell and died and gave themselves so that I could eat popcorn and dip it in cheddar cheese. A death so noble would be exquisite.

Photography used with the kind permission of the photographer,
Carrie Thomas.

Educational enlightenment on evil yet sometimes necessary concepts provided by wikipedia.

Any similarity to situations or individuals real, fictional or implied to be real or fictional is really fictional and purely the fabrication of the author's very unspecific imagination. No conclusions, facts, concepts, or opinions about individuals and/or situations real, fictional or implied to be real or fictional should be based upon the content of this rant.

You decide

Vote even if you have no idea what I'm talking about.

to help you though.... I have recorded two versions of a song called 'The Walking Song'. Only one of them can be on the album. The catch is that you don't get to hear the two versions. haha