I think her name is Deborah...

I just realized that I have a thing for titles of blogs with elipsis (elipsi?) on the end.

...

Whatever.

Look, I know you guys may not care, but I just have to say something. Beck Hanson is a mother effing GOD. He was not born, not hatched, he simply appeared.

My friend, David Rios (aka "the wrestling mask guy" on my friend's list) bought me a ticket to see Beck at the Backyard for my birthday (last Monday was it... it's all down hill from here), and I didn't realize (cause I hadn't seen this show before) that it would put me in debt to him for life. It has. It was worth it.

Beck's stage setup was normal enough, drums on a riser stage-right near the bass amps, percussion / keys / guitars stage left, and a miniature replica of the entire stage center-back(!!!).

"WhaH?!?!?!" you say...

"Zackly" I say. This tour features a travelling group of Marionette Masters who dance and sing 5 puppets (all dressed and combed to look like their fleshy counterparts) while ALL of the cameras, lights, and special effects were focused on the aforementioned mini stage. "Puppetron" was then projected onto the screen overhead, so that if you had a seat far enough back and were forced to depend on the screen for your show, you would never actually see Beck, but rather, an authentic, old-Mexico style Marionette with his very own boom stand and fender strat ... jamming to Guerro, Deborah, Where It's At, and more.

Beck is also in the process of bringing back "the hype man". He travels with at least one person who doesn't actually "DO" anything, but who is very much a part of the show. The guy is by no-means a great dancer, but he dances. He also bangs on cups and plates (during the dinner table portion of the show(?)), and apparently plays a mean-ass banjo.

Beck also gave a pretty significant shout-out to D'Angelo, which was nice to hear, while he sarcastically slammed R. Kelly, and explained the lyrics to "Deborah".

All in all, it was a great birthday

I know who I want to take me home...

In the two weeks that I've been in Nashville, I've gone completely broke, been fired by the US Navy, given my notice to cancel my 1 year lease on my apartment, played baby-sitting nurse for an epileptic pitbull, learned that Franklin TN is like the mecca of christian music (or even better, the Baskin Robbins of Christian Music stars - a new flavor for every day), and apparently I'm going to be putting out a record in a completely different way than I imagined.
Roy and I have finally been able to spend quality time together (though we were good friends before, we've actually been at each other's throats now, which always helps any friendship grow). ***
Wendy, Roy's wife, has made me feel simultaneously at home, comfortable, and totally home-sick as I envy the family that Roy has in her.
Rosco has new scars from his much bigger, older female friends.
And most significantly, I feel like I've been through music industry boot camp in this time around friends, hearing the back-stage goings-on of MuteMath (one of the hardest-working, most insanely talented bands on the planet), and learning from Roy about how to approach a song, a rhythm, a melody, an album, a vocal take, a chord voicing... all things that I thought I understood before, but was utterly wrong.

People, this record is going to kick ass.

Mine.

I don't know what to plan for in the next few months as so many of my plans have crumbled before my very eyes lately. But I can assure you of this - my life in every area - musically, professionally, relationally - is just beginning. I'm chalking all of this up as birthing pains, and I'm keeping my head down to get this crap finished. Thanks for you guys being supportive and patient. I'll be back online from ATX soon. Until then, go right now and search like crazy for the new Thom Yorke record, and bring a sack lunch, 'cause you'll be there for a while.

word.
D.
(singer for "Tino's Pinche Dozen")


*** So apparently, Roy claims to have never heard of "Closing Time" by Semisonic. I knew he was lying. I told him about a book by Jacob Slichter called "So you wanna be a rock n' roll star" about the life and death of the Dan Wilson band. He was interested in the story, but claimed to have never heard of this insanely over-played, severely abused hooky song that actually had nothing at all to do with "last call" at your neighborhood bar. Just thought I'd share. Roy's a great friend, but apparently a damn liar. (I love you, Roy).

I want to be sedated.

Got some new ideas tracked for four more songs today. This is turning into more of a tracking/sampling/idea gathering trip than an actual studio/record an album trip. Roy is so great to work with in that he's relentlessly professional about music, and generous with his encouragement at the same time. He's got a great "producer" hat that he wears quite well.

We hit another bump in the road today. Mainly in that we tried to show a song to a friend (hi Bryan) and afterwards I felt dizzy and gross by how displeased I was with what I heard. I'm overly self-critical, but at this point, the record has already cost me too much to put it out half-assed. This process is gonna take a while, I think, so I may as well just get comfortable in recording mode, and get ready to start playing some shows to put ideas together.

By the way, this may be a good time to mention that I won't be in Austin for much longer. I'm going back this weekend to have a few yard sales to get rid of a bunch of things, then I'm moving in with a friend to save some money for a while before my eventual relocation to NYC sometime this fall. I'm hoping to make it sooner, but i'm learning not to make plans that I can't control, so unless I find a place to live for free in New York for a few months, I've got to take what I can get in A-town.

As for the tunes, I'm still encouraged in the sheer resolute dedication that Roy has and inspires in making this record sound great. I don't know if I need to warn my friends that this will sound almost unrecognizable from anything I've done before, but if you were expecting some sequal to my previous efforts, you may need to look elsewhere.

I'm rambling now, but I'm in a strange place somewhere between rugged determination, total exhaustion, and a slow wave of depression. I'll be fine. Don't flood my inbox with "hang in there" letters. I'm just saying, I've got a long road ahead of me. This record may become "raising david jackson".

BTW... check out my photo section. I'll explain later.
d.

PS - "Chuckfamous" is a brilliant musician who is so horribly underrated it's absolutely dispicable. Check out his profile, and his band "Club of the Sons" now.

For the love song of a cricket's heat...

:: I think I wanna build a better myspace. All the other things popping up suck, and myspace is getting old. It's officially a Kludge (look it up). ::

:: Got a lot done today in the area of vocal treatments and other mind-numbing processes. Mixing and more tracking tomorrow. To give our ears a break, Roy and I watched the making of Medula by Bjork.

Ho.
Ly.
Hell.

I feel small enough to sleep on the hair on a cricket's legs. She is an alien. I knew the first time I heard that record that I'd have to listen 3985089p more times to understand it, but now that I've seen how they made it... I'm more lost than before. It'll be closer to 8x(apple) - [that's for you, Mario Brothers]. ::

:: I think Jerry Gibson (see my profile pics), may actually appear on the record, beyond my expectations. There are also a few instrumental ideas that may end up being used. Lots of instrumental moments already, but I'm liking where they go, so we may have more of it. ::

:: Roy found some ridiculous samples today, so we may also be building some things around them. ::

... the pleasure is all mine.
d. (aka "Rhinestone Druggy", or "Submit button", or "The So-Bots")

A spoonful of sugar...

Of Eariness & Lyricism:
"For what it's worth, we all fall down." - Those 8 words just saved a song. And with it, three full days of work. You may never understand their importance, but if you listen to the record, and you get to the point of hearing them, and you sense their significance, pour one out for it's saving.

Of Dogs & Suppositories:
Roy and Wendy now have a whole new list of Meds to give Dakota (see: other blogs) WHILE she's having a seizure. Awesome.

Of Rejected Band Names:
some new ones: "Mastermind and the Sumos", "Tongue Fu Cowboy", "Coyote", "The Digital Underground" (I hear it's taken), "Thai Kwan Flow".

Of My Profile Image:
For those who've been asking: "Yes, I drew it.", "No, Rosco isn't dead", "I don't even LIKE asparagus"

... drowning.

the names of things, or the way we speak to fear.

I woke up to my own voice in my ear again. This time it was Roy playing a loop of "One more night, drinking terpentine" over and over again while adjusting tones and sounds. I hadn't showered in days, so I enduced the Bacterial Hollucost for about 5 minutes and started working.

We went to bed at... correction: Roy hasn't been to bed yet. I went to bed at around 7am. We worked like crazy to get the right vocal takes for this song so I could move onto the next one. This process is so frustrating, I really hope it's worth it. At this pace, we'll have a record in a year or so. But Roy goes back on tour this weekend, so that's not an option.

Dakota had another seizure yesterday. This one while Roy and I were tracking. Roy's Hispanic roots come out in tragedy, I've discovered. Namely, he turns into a Mexican woman ("Aye No! Mamma!") and nurtures his dog out of her trance. I, on the other hand, apparently lose my vocabulary completely, as I was the first to notice she was convulsing, and I sorta yelped "dude!" with the drawl of a texas high school footballer.

I'm debating on changing the name of this project, and I feel justified in thinking about it as I've yet to play a show, or release a single song as this band. I basically just think the project may need a name more concise and vivid. Something like "Whale"(??) or "12pt Garamond"(?!?!).

holes.

Seize the day like an epileptic with a hangover...

Not much to report, but lots to tell. The record is coming along. I'm excited, tired, and frustrated. We keep hitting brick walls within minutes of every breakthrough. Vocals are an everloving bitch to track if you don't want to sound like an idiot AND you don't have disposable money to spend. Not everything here is about music, but it's damn near close.

Roy has one of the most beautiful Blonde American Pitbull's I've ever seen. Her name is Dakota. She and Rosco (my 5 mo/old Boxer) are getting along fine, but Rosco is wearing her out a little, I think.

Roy and Wendy (his wife) went to church this afternoon, and left me here to work on vocals for the record, and to get some time to try some things with the mixdown. At about 4:30, I thought I heard someone walking around downstairs. Assuming they'd come home, I mozied down to the kitchen to find Dakota locked up in the corner in an epileptic seizure that scared the hell out of me. I rushed to get a wet cloth and some water for her, and lifted her head out of the pool of her own foamy drool. It sucked. It was such a deeply sad moment to watch her come out of it and not know where she was, or what to do with herself. She lay on her stomach after the seizure broke, and just stared at the wall in a trance for a few moments which seemed like an eternity, while Rosco and Pudge (the black Lab?) went nuts outside because they knew something was going on. It wasn't the first attack she's had since I've been here, but it's the first I've seen, and I saw it alone with a huge feeling of responsibility resting on my back while it happened.

After all that's gone on here (I also have now been fired for the first time in my life, because I wasn't paying nearly as much attention to my employer as I was this record. At least, according to them), we needed a break. We went out tonight to meet up with some of Roy's friends. Genuinely sweet and cool people. It's great to meet sincerity and honest interest in new people, and I found it in everyone I met tonight. ZERO pretense, even less tension. I felt at home, which was nice, since I haven't in a while.

Oh, and the record is starting to sound good too.

Living in the hole I made.
d.

... live in the hole you make

I'm in Nashville, recording my record with Roy Mitchell-Cardenas (Bass player for MuteMath), and I'm ridiculously tired. My schedule is about the equivalent of doing business in Tokyo and New York simultaneously. (Huh?)

Anyway, I had a dream last night. I was standing over myself while I slept, and whispering into my own ear, "you fall like a comet to the earth, and you live in the hole you make."

Not sure what the dream means, but that sentence is resonating with me lately. I have had a year worth remembering so far, and worth forgetting as well. I hope this experience of working with Roy (a long time dream of mine) brings some things together. It's a lot of fun, at least, but it's all moving along VERY slowly.

'Till next time, Live in the hole you make.

D.