Old Man

I'm already an old man
nobody cares what an old man has to say
even if he walked 10 miles in the snow
uphill
both ways

The Drain/Ghosts

Life seems to be comprised of cycles, a swirling pool that spins round and round until you're finally sucked down the drain. Perhaps you hang on like a hairball until someone calls a plumber to clear the path you are blocking. Wow, doesn't that sound so delightfully pleasant? Each revolution round the whirlpool seems to bring me back to a time and place and/or to a person. They are older each time and a bit further from the glitter of our inital introduction. We don't fully recoginize each another. The whirlpool spins us round another time. Each time, the original picture fades a bit, until all is black

I went through a rough patch a few years back and that's putting it lightly. I'm generally more prone to exageration than understatement, but for this paragraph, I shall embrace subtelty. This rough patch if you will was a very specific bubble of existence for me with a group of people, a drinking problem (aka drowning your sorrows) and a feeling of death. I died inside. My life ended but my feet kept moving and my heart kept beating, but make no mistake that I died in 2003. Ok I'm back to exageration. Was it 2003? I'm not quite sure. It's all a blur at this point.

"You left my ass in Arizona with 15 bucks and half a corona" and needless to say, I ran into your ass on the street the other day and I cringed with every uncomfortable muscle in my body. You smiled like it was good to see me. You are so oblivious. It is not nor will it ever be good to see you.

So please, if you see me on the street, there is no need for a hello, because I am a toddler crawling through my second life. You are a ghost from my first. There are good memories that wash down the drain with the bad, but that which as gone down the drain is not meant to return. It drifts away to the sewer or the water treatment plant. Perhaps it shall live again in a glass of drinking water or an ice cube.





Now, I... I was reborn in 2007

God In The Telephone Book (live)

I had the privelage of sharing the stage with the very lovely Amy Clarke
at Sidewalk Cafe last month for a benefit concert she did for the victims
of the quake in Haiti. Amy is an extremely talented musician friend who used to
live in New York but alas, she left us for the left coast. She is missed.
Here is a clip of an improv version of God in The Telephone book, a yet to be release song of mine. Hope you enjoy.

R

Lemon Scented in the dark

I randomly stumbled upon this clip of me performing Lemon Scented in Montréal Canada in October of last year. The funny thing is that you can't really see me or the audience. It was a "secret show", so I guess the very obscured nature of this clip is rather appropriate. haha.

Diversions- Mad at the Dirt

This diversion is dedicated to the wonderful Mister Jason S. of D.U.M.B.O. Brooklyn and comes courtesy of the Yeast Radio where it recently was used as the opening song.
In case you are unfamiliar with that filth, Yeast Radio is a very twisted and slightly "racist"-for-"racist"-sake podcast that features True Dooty, the highlarious highjinx of the whorishly nasty Cheryl Merkowski.
I shouldn't admit that I listen to this grum, but I must admit that I'm rather addicted to it and the envelope pushing it employs.

Anyhoo. here's The Joans with Mad at the dirt. enjoy.

God in The Telephone Book- Lyrics

She met buddah on a downtown train
He said baby let me ease our pain
so she crossed her legs and she meditated when she could.

She met a friar with fleeting hair.
He said baby let me take you there so she
spread her legs in an abbey by the wood.
yes she did yes she did.

She found light wherever she looked.
She found light wheverer she looked.

She and lucifer had some tea.
He said baby won't you live with me.
I've got a killer view and the heat is free
no broker's fee.

So she sold her soul and she bought some shoes.
Good things always come in toes. She sang in red
where she used to sing in blue.
yes she did yes she did yes she did.

She found light wherever she looked.
She found light wherever she looked.

She and lucifer said goodbye.
She couldn't live with the heat so high.
She said you'd be surprised.
He's a real nice guy.

So she drove her car through the bible belt.
She thought she might find god there, she felt,
but the more she drove, the more like hell it smelled.
yes it did yes it did yes it did.

She found light wherever she looked.
She found light wherever she looked.
She found god in the telephone book.

The Delicate Butterfly

It is odd for me to think of myself as delicate or fragile, a butterfly that so easily can be squashed by a careless foot or hand. Alas, it is lately how I feel. Last week, after months of doing very well, I found myself once again rushing to see the doctor, thinking I was having a heart attack. They again did an EKG and again told me my vital signs were normal and that I am suffering from panic disorder. The only solution they have for something like that of course is pills...the kind that make you feel like you're walking underwater with a skull full of jello. I have been trying to live in the now and not imagine a vast array of tragic future scenarios that send my mind racing in circles and my heart pounding out of my chest. It is not easy for me. I think I need to be reprogrammed, taken into a room where some very congenial lady in a white coat can show me pictures of smiling people and kittens and sunshine and pumpkin patches and infuse my brain with the imagery it needs to relax and just be ok with everything.
Perhaps it's time for me to finally have that lobotamy I've been saving up for. Perhaps they can reach into my head and scoop out the parts that have me on tip toes balancing on pins and needles like a circus animal, gritting my teeth with every breath.
perhaps...

being visited by the ghosts of the living while wearing JFK Junior's shoes

A few days ago, on our way to the grocery store, Konstantine and I encountered an older Caribbean woman, as is a fairly regular occurance in our neighborhood. The woman was sort of babbling something and staring at the ground and Konstantine thought she was talking to him, so he responded to her. She responded by saying "not you, him" and pointed at my shoes. She went off on an entire rant about John F. Kennedy Junior and how he used to wear shoes just like mine. I just sort of smiled and nodded, responding "yes, they're great shoes. I love them". She said something like "he was really good to us" and then wandered off down the street. Just to be clear, the shoes being mentioned are two toned black and white saddle oxfords, so it's understandable that they might evoke more attention than a tennis shoe or plain black shoe.

In completely unrelated news, I have been visited in my sleep twice this week by the ghosts of living canadian musicians. First, it was Patrick Watson and then it was Joni Mitchell. Joni had this really cool guitar pedal in the shape of a high heal shoe and made me do a session of sing-a-long with her. I don't know what this all means, but hey at least it's interesting.

Sally (a demo) - sneak sneak peek available for listening til March 16th

In the murky waters of my mind has been a project titled "The Ocean & The Easel".
The best way I can describe it is that it is a soundtrack to a sort of movie musical that is nautically themed. Recently I've been working on a demo for one song from that project in my studio at home. Here is a preview which I will leave up for a week and then it will magically disappear. Yes, it's based on a children's tongue twister. Yes. I may have lost my mind.

***Alas, the time has expired on this sneak peak.

currently on the turntable- Harry Belafonte sings of the Caribbean

One of the things that I love about vinyl records (besides the sound)
is that many songs that were originally released on vinyl were never transferred
to CD or the digital realm. Typically you can find an artist's greatest hits
and their very popular albums, but when you buy an old record, your ears get treated
to musical gems that many people haven't heard in years if ever at all.

The most recent addition to my vinyl collection falls into that category. It has never been released on itunes.
It is Harry Belafonte sings of the caribbean, released in 1957 and in perfect condition. Here's one of the other things I love about vinyl. I bought the entire album for $3 from a guy selling vinyl out of a paper box on 7th avenue.

In these tough economic times, you can't beat the price.

Robert Recommends: Patty Griffin's Downtown Church

My history with organized Christianity is a sordid one, or rather one littered with guilt and pain. As the great Tori Amos once sang "I've got enough guilt to start my own religion". It has taken me years of healing to separate my issues with organized religion from the power and beauty of gospel music.

Patty Griffin is an incomparable songwriter and has enough soul to be her own church choir. So, it makes sense that she should do a gospel album and let me just say that after listening to it a few times through, I think my soul has been save. hallelujah.



Patty Griffin's Website

The Rant Book Club Selection for March

Setlist

On Sunday I had the privilege of being part of a group of artists who gathered in Greenpoint Brooklyn to create a local music record store and performance space for one day. It was truly a magical event called Mayfly which was organized in part by a very lovely musician friend of mine by the name of Lara Ewen. Lara and I met a couple years back while I was on tour. We did a show in Worcester Massachusetts and have stayed friends ever since.

The sense of community and love that I felt at the Mayfly event was amazing.
I got such a warm reception from everyone and also got to see some very talented musicians perform as well. We all did short sets so it was like a musical buffet for all to enjoy.

My set was as follows:

1. Walking Song
2. Mister Carpentier
3. God in The Telephone Book (vocal experimental version)
4. Lemon Scented

You can read more about the awesome event called Mayfly
by going to their blog.

Diversions: Joanna Newsom

Lately I have found my fingers tickling the ivories quite a bit, so to speak.
I have no formal training on piano, nor have I ever performed anything live
on any form of keyboard.
I have been quietly working on my third album whilst my second album is still in that
netherworld between completion and release into the world. The third album is an ocean themed soundtrack for a movie musical that only exists in some strange place in my head.

The two tracks that have been holding the majority of my focus are titled "Sally" and "The Seaman's Warf". In the next week, I will try to post a little snippet of Sally for your listening pleasure(hopefully pleasure)....

Until then, keeping with my ocean themed brain, here's an artist who has been starting to seep into my conciousness, a rather unique harpist/songwriter/etc by the name of Joanna Newsom with her song "Clam, Crab, Cockle, Cowrie"

Diversions: Brazil edition

This afternoon is sponsored by Brazil and a crazy tranny who should be an inspiration to us all.
Don't give up on your dreams, even if you have to rip the wig right off a ho to
acheive the crown.

My Heart goes out to Haiti

In the blink of an eye everything can change.
It is a delicate line that we tread with nature.

Yesterday, a Magnitude 7 earthquake rocked the very foundation of Haiti.
Killing 100,000 people, according to Haiti's prime minister.

"The largest earthquake to hit Haiti in more than 200 years rocked the Caribbean nation Tuesday, collapsing a hospital and heavily damaging other buildings. U.S. officials reported bodies lying in the streets and an aid official described "total disaster and chaos." -AP

My heart goes out to those who have died, lost loved ones, lost homes, etc.
So sad...

Currently on the turntable- Fame Monster

As many of you know, I puchase music almost exclusively on vinyl if it is available in that format. For me, personally, I find that the sound is much warmer and less processed sounding. MP3's never really sound fully right to me, like listening to a mosaic of an image instead of a crisp clear picture.

I do not typically listen to a great deal of pop music and generally couldn't tell you what songs or artists are popular or what their songs are. There are some exeptions. I don't hate pop music. It has its place. Sometimes I want a steak and sometimes I want bubblegum.

Currently on the turntable is a xmas gift from Konstantine, Lady Gaga's Fame Monster on picture vinyl. I must say that as steak flavored bubblegum goes, I'm enjoying it.

Robert Recommends: I Like You

I got a wonderful Christmas gift from K that has brought me a great deal of joy.
It helped me to laugh while angry midwestern women with bad hair were gnashing their teeth and complaining as we sat through 2 delays that left us sitting on the runway for 2 1/2 hours during our trek home from Kansas. (more about that another time) I did almost strangle a woman with my bare hands, but thanks to the humorous musings on entertaining from the lovely Amy Sedaris, said woman triumphed to live and complain another day.

If you haven't seen Strangers with Candy, her derganged sit-com that used to be on comedy central, then you haven't lived. If you have seen it and love her off kilter brand of humor, then you will adore this book.

Don't take my word for it though.

Buy the Book
Visit Amy's Website

Pine Mouth

image randomly stolen from the internet following a google search. uncredited, so sue me.

"WHAT?"You may be asking yourself is pine mouth?

It is not some after-effect of chewing on a pinecone or a post holiday sydrome brought about by humping the Christmas tree. It may sound like a joke or a made-up phrase or some sort of sister to the dreaded pot smoker's cotton mouth, but I assure you that pine mouth is none of these things and is yet very serious business.

I will share my story with you today. Hopefully, my tale of bitter whoa will help to spare you from the agony that I suffered. Like countless others, I fell victim to this dreaded condition for almost two weeks, just in time for christmas dinner. Our stories are countless. Many of us suffer in silence, in the shadows. Today I step into the light to speak of my tribulation.

A few weeks ago, We received an early Christmas gift from my mother. It was a cuisinart griddler, a great tool in the making of panini, the Italian grilled glamour sandwich. I was so exciited that I ran to whole foods and bought a bunch of pine nuts to make pesto along with an assortment of cheeses, sun dried tomatoes and ecoutrement to immerse myself body and soul into the ancient art of panini.

I should mention that the bag of pinenuts I purchased was rather large. When I got home, I began ecstatically chopping up the garlic, basil and pine nuts for my pesto (using this recipe). I was hungry, which is a constant state for me. My pet tape worm felix requires constant attention, and I generally oblige. I shoved a handful of pinenuts into my mouth and gobbled them down. One handful led to two, led to three, led to....well, six. Ok. I'm a pig. I gorged myself on pinenuts and then ate a panini with lots of pesto on it. K and Laura did not consume the quantity of pine nuts that I did, but they did enjoy the luxurious lusciousness of my homemade pesto on their sandwiches.

In an ideal world my story would end here, with a full belly and a happily ever after and maybe a Post script titled "midnight bacon snack". Alas, dear readers, my story begins two days after my flirtation with panini and my glutenous mouth affair with the temptress known as pine nut.

On Thursday morning (2 days after panini) I woke up and grabbed my morning cup of coffee. When I took my first sip, it tasted, well, off. It was bitter and rotten tasting. I just thought perhaps my corner coffee shop had made a bad batch or something. Lunch time rolled around and I took a bight of my lunch. It tasted bitter, mettalic and rotten. I began to worry. What was wrong with me?

I contacted my doctor A.K.A. a google search of my symptoms...sudden bitter taste in mouth. Oddly enough an article about pine nuts came up. I read of the phenomenon known as pine mouth. Multiple people 1-3 days after ingesting pine nuts experienced a bitter metalic taste with all food and drink lasting for up to 2 weeks. I looked for a remedy and found that not only does no one know the cause of pine mouth but there is not cure except to just let it run its course. I also discovered that this phenomenon seemed to be specific for the most part to pine nuts grown in china.

I was confused because the pine nuts I bought were Whole Foods own brand. Surely Whole Foods with its whole organic produce philosophy would not be importing its pine nuts from a country with the most questionable farming practices in the world? right?
I called Whole Foods and was told that all their own label foods including the pine nuts were grown here in the United States. I didn't take their word for it though. I went into the store to double check this and surely enough MADE IN CHINA was on a sticker on the back of the pine nuts.

I went online and found multiple articles on pine mouth and chinese pine nuts and like the crazy cat lady that I am, I stapled and paperclipped all the articles and walked back into whole foods and asked to speak to the manager. He of course looked at me like I was crazy and I insisted that he look at my documentation on pine mouth and that the pine nuts should have a warning or be removed from the shelves. He said he would forward the information to their corporate headquarters.

Continuing on my rampage of outrage, I wrote and email to corporate Whole Foods. Almost immediately I received a form letter response that was specific to pine mouth. Whole Foods was completely aware that they were selling a product that could make everything their customer ate for up to 2 weeks taste bitter. Unsatisfied by this form letter, I sent an email of outrage and a request that they warn customers of this issue or find another source for their pine nuts. Their response was basically that I could return the pine nuts for a refund and that they were sorry.

I now have a boycott on whole foods. Any company that would knowingly sell tainted pine nuts and have a form letter prepared to fire off at angry customers is not a company that I will ever again support with my business.

My pine mouth lasted for two weeks. The only things that tasted normal were scotch and broccoli, but I forced myself to eat the bitter tasting things instead of becoming an alcoholic cruciferous vegetable addict. Actually I already am a bit of a cruciferous vegetable addict and with the many health benefits of being one, why not?

So, consider this your warning. Something strange is going on with pine nuts. The FDA is investigating it and nobody knows what causes pine mouth, but believe me, you don't want to have it.

11 and 176 days

It's 11 days since my lips have touched the sweet booze nectar, the lubricant
of conversation and the creator or casualty and miscommunication

It is 176 days since I've had a cigarette, the former object of my oral fixation.

It is too many days since I've been on a relaxing vacation.

It's about time to turn on a dime and tour the nation.