The Bottle(Lyrics)

To all the ones we left behind
who pray for us at supper time
and hang their clothes out on the line
and watch the time as it slips away

I hope you read these words I wrote,
a sentimental scrolled up note.
I threw the bottle
watched it float
then I watched it til it disappeared.

Beside the water stands a man
he holds a bottle in his hand
he pops the cork
wipes off the sand
he reads the words
but doesn't understand.

A tiny ship that doesn't float
its sails made from a crumpled note
and balsa wood and superglue
in a bottle that has sailed the blue.

It sits there on the mantle top
the logs shift and the fire pops
the ocean breeze, the ticking clock
a final breath
a heartbeat stops

Free Download of the Week- Fishnet Sailor

Thunder Down Under!

No, this is not the sound that my thighs make when I walk too briskly, but rather, well me trying to be cute, so sue me. Good luck with suing me btw, because that will about as financially fruitless a pursuit as trying to squeeze blood out of a bag of rocks.

So, anyway...
THUNDER DOWNUNDER!
Sounds kind of scary when you use CAPS and !!!!

So, anyway...
There are afterall samples of thunder in my song Unplug and Australia is referred to as "down under" thus thunder down under and some exciting news.

The music video for Unplug which was shot in Australia and directed by Simon Trevorrow premiered on ABC in Australia on Rage. The video is also currently a featured video on their website.

For now, this is the only place where you can watch the video as the Australian premiere and the US premiere are not in sync with each other, but that's ok. They're quite a few hours ahead of us and the video was born there, so it seems fitting tha they should see it first. Don't worry North America, Your day of glory will come soon enough.

Just an FYI, when I stated that the video premiered on ABC, I'm not referring to that Disney network but rather referring to the Australian Broadcasting Corporation. Think PBS or BBC but for Australia.

Robert Recommends/Diversions- Janelle Monáe

There is something quite special about 24 year old Janelle Monáe.
From her funky dykie black tie style to her James Brown and Michael Jackson
infused moves, I like this kid. She's got spunk and this song is like crack for your ears.

For Granted

I am a spoiled person.
I know this. It is something that also
makes me a difficult person at times.

I have this need or desire to
have things surrounding me in just the
right orchestration of space and sound.

Some people might call this selfishness.
perhaps they are right. I do think there
is an arrogance to it, that reeks of men
with their wars and mistakes.

I falter as a person on a daily basis
on so many levels. I feel at times like an utter
failure. Today I think is perhaps the penacle of that for me.

A moment when I wish I were a better person.
A moment when I come to realize that I take
so much in my life that is so precious for granted.
Yes, I think it is selfishness, arrogance, all those things.

The taste of it is rotting in my guts.
It makes my stomach cramp.

Diversions (Trouble)

This video and song seem to be speaking to me at the moment.

Wash Away (partial lyrics)

The man upstairs
is driving me crazy
pouring water
into the walls

and I'm grabbing napkins
towels
buckets
umbrellas
so I'll be ready
when the rain begins to fall.

Are you ready
for the water
are you ready
to wash away

The water keeps rising
every morning
but no one in town knows the reason why
and I had a dream that the buildings were islands
and that the ocean swallowed the sky.

Are you ready
for the water
are you ready
to wash away

Louise (lyrics)

At the bottom of the ocean
there's a woman named Louise.
You have to kiss her if you want to live
It's the only way to breathe.

Her mood shifts like the water
her eyes are cold like butter.
her lips are hot like pepper so
they burn you when you kiss her.

Louise's husband left her
one night while she was sleeping.
It's hard to see from under water
but Louise is always weeping.

This used to be a desert
many years ago.
She used to be so happy before
the tears began to flow.

There used to be a garden,
the only one for miles.
she sowed the seeds and pulled the weeds
and did it with a smile.

but her tears turned into puddles
and puddles turned to rivers
rivers turn to lakes and oceans
fishing towns and swimmers.

and at the bottom of the ocean
there's a woman named Louise
You have to kiss her if you want to live
It's the only way to breathe.

Don't Panic

Well,

It's officially been months since I've had a panic attack
or had to pop a litte white pill to get through the day.
This is a good thing. Songs have been flowing forth like water
from a spring I was worried was about to dry up. Many things are brewing
live shows, music videos, multiple albums, christmas songs (yes, I know it's early)
so stay tuned.

Lotsa Love

R

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.