busblog

nothing in here is true

  1. Tuesday, November 27, 2018

    i am the most basic bitch 

     

    i still have cable tv. i still miss my mtv. even though i listen to jazz on sundays i couldnt tell you four miles davis records let alone four white piano players.

    i try but i am Joe Sixpack who fortunately moved to LA at the right time otherwise id have 2.4 kids and a four bedroom 3 bath house with a messy garage in suburbia right now, id be fatter and balder and seeing possibilities with Mitt.

    but like i said the Lord nudged me west and opened my mind so you can all get inside

    when i landed on this coast in the mid 80s, one young woman after another told me i was on the wrong path;  that i was steering into sexism and stupidism and lazyism, and god bless them for calling bullshit because my dude friends sure as hell never told me those things.

    so here we are in the future i never expected. a world without mtv. dumbest president ever, voted on by the most gullible 60 million plus some russian bots. only music can tame this wild beast so after seeing this glorious write up in my favorite paper, i told the gf that i bought tickets, in cleveland, to listen to classical music in that gorgeous setting.

    she was all, fuck yeah.

    until i learned that the stones are playing that same night here in LA. what to do? the Stones are olllllld. there can’t be that many more chances to see Keef and Mick bouncing around. they want my money and i want to give it to them.

    do you know how many times i say Siri, play Some Girls?

    all the times. do you know i devoured keiths book? how much i love how they took black music and immersed themselves in it and washed it behind their ears and let it seep into their nooks and crannies and marinated in it album after album in the early days and then, as if it was like magic, 1967 appeared and out came the perfect swirl of brit pop, american r ‘n b, and lsd. her satanic majesty’s secret sauce.  the perfect storm. the storm before the storm because boom boom boom one classic after another.

    will this tour be a celebration of experimentation and exploitation?

    no. it too is living in the future they never thought would exist: selling out stadiums in their mid 70s.

    but everything is possible in this brave new world so when i said baby the Cleveland show i wanna go to is the same day as the Stones show, what do we do?

    she said, “lets go to Cleveland, ive already seen the Stones. And you have too, several times.”

    and my mind was blown because once again a delightful woman had gently advised me that i buy in to the hype time and again. i am the most basic of bitches. the most gullible of guppies. i am Joe Sixpack, quietly being led to the slaughter.

  2. Sunday, November 4, 2018

    amber just gave me the sweetest compliment 

    shes been a little bit sick so shes been in bed for two days,

    i was standing with my shirt off and long plaid pajama pants on

    eating some jumbo shrimp i had just gotten for myself after going out to get her soup and seltzer water.

    she said, “you remind me of a lot of the rock stars that stay at my hotel”

    she works at a fancy beverly hills joint

    she said, “you don’t worry about anything. you’re just cool.”

    shes lived with me over a year and thats what she thinks?

    oh i worry.

    i worry this whole thing might get pulled out from under me at any minute.

    i am not in control of anything. i could do the greatest job ever on this secret project and still get thrown to the wolves. i could do a cruddy job and get praised. you never know what people will think.

    but my biggest fear is not a person at all. it’s God. i wanna go to Heaven. but you dont get in because of  your dazzling good looks or witty banter. it’s your heart. and you can’t fake that.

    what is in my heart? it aint sugar and spice and everything nice, thats for damn sure.

    of course i care about the poor and others and this one and that one but i was in the xbi. ive done some things. who knows if im forgiven?

    Yes Jessica painted this painting that i bought from her that she framed and sent to me. it says “forgive yourself. for all of it.”

    it’s hung right next to my giant bedroom tv. right above a Cubs hat. i look at it every. single. day.

    but there are some unforgivable things.

    and even if i convince myself that there arent, what if God disagrees?

    the Good Book says the only unforgivable sin is blasphemy, or more specifically denying God. everything else has been paid for by Jesus.

    let’s hope thats the case because i would like to go back to worrying about the same things that rock stars in swanky hotels should worry about: when will the creativity dry up one day, when will the pretty girls stop paying attention,

    and when will that Mexicoke ever arrive from room service?

  3. Monday, October 1, 2018

    did i tell you that amber and i saw beck? 

    do i tell you anything interesting? do i ever ask

    how was YOUR day?

    if i won the lottery i would do all the right things, but then with the million left over

    i would buy a Chuck E. Cheese and only have the best video games and pinball machines

    id have actually great pizza, so great you’d want it delivered.

    thered be special days where kids from the childrens hospital could go wild in there

    and on friday and saturday nights bands would play there

    but the opener would always be my robot band that would play cool music like this

    indie artists everywhere will write songs for the robot band

    it might be the only time they’ll have an audience.

  4. Thursday, September 13, 2018

    i save my reading for listening 

    as i drive around this fair city i enjoy having others read to me

    Morrissey’s autobiography was a delight mostly because Moz is an exceptional writer

    and it makes me feel like i should stop watching so much TV and start reading

    you know, actual books

    because when you hear someone lie Morrissey explain things or describe things

    and every sentence is so descriptive with analogies and metaphors that come from ancient scrolls

    and legendary literature and you’re all, wait was that original or a Shakespearian quote

    you feel equal parts excited and ignorant.

    i also liked that he just wanted England to love him and it didnt. not like LA or Mexico or Scandinavia.

    here people would dress like him and scream his lyrics right back at him and fill up this one and that one

    theyd damn near riot, but in his beloved UK they’d barely bat their lashes

    i also like that his record labels barely supported him and no one knew what to do with his successes.

    it is a pattern that i have seen in my own life: some people and organizations are built for mediocrity

    they have zero interest in wild success, all they want to do is keep on keeping on.

    they don’t want failure, but in an odd way they feel more comfortable with a hiccup or two

    than they are huge accomplishments.

    they’re terrified of breaking records, leading the pack, or breaking through to the new thing.

    here The Smiths and Morrissey were selling hand over fist – even when the group broke up, yet the labels were far more willing to spend endless amounts of time and effort into the unproven and even failed,

    than they were to the quirky vegetarian straight edge asexual exception to the rule.

    in the book he even says that Michael Stipe has always wanted to go solo.

    fascinating!

  5. Saturday, September 8, 2018

    im not dead, im doing things 

    and for me doing things takes a little time. i can knock out certain things quickly but when i care about them time goes so quickly to catch up with my mind

    im on schedule. have no fear. but when i do stuff i think about three or four steps ahead which is cool except it makes me stumble on the step im currently on.

    ive asked the young kids i used to work with what their thoughts are on Adderall because i saw a movie on Netflix about how every kid in college is on it because it helps them focus and they had mixed reviews.

    they said sure if you wanna clean your room in a night or paint details on a huge blank wall. but you can get addicted, it’s not cheap, and it fucks up your sleep. i’ll just stick to bad music, incense and Mexicokes.

    been dropping off Birds at 5am. im a weirdo. it pays ok. a little less than Uber and for some reason it uses up more gas than i expected but it sends me into alleys and back ways and bizarre parts of LA that i wouldnt normally go to.

    ran into two gay guys last night in hollywood. one of them was pulling up his pants. so much love out there. or hookers. hard to tell sometimes. whatever, love it is.

    speaking of Love one thing i love about Hollywood is how you will see a perfectly good Ma & Pa Kettle house made of wood, with a porch and a brick fireplace right next to a 19 story modern hotel right next to a McMansion. everyone in their place. everyone wanting to be somewhere else. bigger, shinier, more secluded. more rocking. bigger pool.

    i just wanna always feel like everythings ok. and right now its pretty ok.

    speaking of Love, 20 years ago today Hole came out with Celebrity Skin named after the magazine or glam band or JK long live courtney.

  6. Wednesday, August 8, 2018

    today we are going to weezer and the pixies 

    last night amber dyed her hair to prepare

    me, i shaved and got a hair cut.

    it was so hot today – like 95 degrees.

    but in my office it was super cold. i have a little space heater. imagine that.

    plus i wore a little hoodie.

    i hardly ever eat at work, just nibble. my life is so boring.

    all amber and i ever do is walk around and say hi to homeless people and then eat tacos.

    thats what we did yesterday.

    i had bought her a bowl of soup at Pho 2000 but still when we got home i was like, let me change into shorts and lets walk to Silver Lake

    you gotta get in your steps.

    you gotta live.

    the more you live the more your body is all hell yeah.

    so keep living, rock stars.

    never die.

  7. Wednesday, June 13, 2018

    been reading Oscar Levant’s “the memoirs of an amnesiac” 

    he’s talking about taking a train into LA’s union station

    and how when he does he always goes to this newsstand and asks for a new yorker.

    but one day the lady at the newsstand really rubs him the wrong way when she tells him she’s all out of new yorkers.

    after that he vows to go to “an inferior newsstand” to avoid dealing with her ever again.

    because he was a concert pianist, the new yorker would review his concerts and sometimes give him bad reviews.

    it got me thinking how hard it is to write a good bad music review. you dont want to utterly destroy the performer, but you want to be colorful and entertaining. but ultimately you are judging the most subjective thing there is: art.

    when i was at the record store in the mid 80s there were two bands that were bubbling under. fishbone and the red hot chili peppers.

    both were good and funky and creative and fun and funny and all the things youd want if you were 18 like i was.

    and if you had asked me: one of these bands is going to get huge and be a world wide sensation through the year 2018, which one would it be?

    i would have said Fishbone, no question. Because as good as the Chili Peppers is, 18 year old me woulda said, ultimately they are derivative of PFunk mixed with a little more rock, but still white dudes doing fast funk.

    and i would have been wrong. and their biggest tune, “under the bridge”, would have proven me a fool because it isnt funk and it isnt fast.

    which is why i would add, it’s tough to make a good bad music review… that stands up to the test of time.

     

  8. Sunday, April 15, 2018

    beyonce ruined everything last night at Coachella 

    and i do mean everything.

    how am i supposed to go to a concert now?

    it’s not gonna be as great as she was last night.

    how am i gonna even go to a club?

    she took everything great about music and dance and spectacle and black pride

    and shoved it in our faces

    and flicked her long, wild wig at it

    and smiled.

    i was not a huge Beyonce fan, but last night not only did i, but we all saw the light.

    we all saw the power of black girl magic.

    she was graceful and fast and smooth and only got better as the clock ticked closer to two hours.

    she didn’t rely on video screens or inflatable props

    she was so magical that even the fireworks were all fuck this and felt like sparklers.

    she had a whole damn marching band on stage with her, all of MC Hammers dancers, the twins from Cirque, an orchestra, and an all girl heavy metal band.

    it reminded me of Kanye’s 808 n Heartbreaks redeux show at the Hollywood Bowl mixed with gasoline and twerking. it was the history of black college culture, hip hop, a cookout, and a family reunion when Destiny’s Child appeared and reminded us that you can come home again.

    for years the rumors have been that Coachella would drop a boatload to get the Smiths to reunite.

    all i can say after what i am still trying to process from last night ON TV

    is fuck the Smiths.

    beyonce showed us what giving 100% to the grandest idea you could think of looks and sounds like

    ONE HUNDRED PERCENT

    and it is flawless.

  9. Thursday, April 12, 2018

    last night we saw St. Vincent play at the Orpheum 

    at first Amber totally wanted to go. then she asked me when the show was.

    i said hey its 6:30pm, im driving people around via my uber, i cant chat, oh look at that a wayward vehicle. yep. i cant chat. find out and tell me.

    after a while someone told her that the show didnt start until 10:30pm

    she texted me to complain and worry. she worried because she had to wake up at 4am to go to work.

    she enjoys taking the early morning shifts because poof then her day is done.

    only problem is it cramps our late night style.

    she texted me and said Less Is More which a good man would have been able to decipher, but alas i was still driving.

    got back to the pad and it was 9pm. she was napping. she had a wet towel on her head. she looked pretty.

    i said i would normally let you sleep but i hear Vincent was so good the other day that the Catholic Church made her a Saint

    so get up, we gotta go.

    and because ambers a trooper she got it together and put on a slinky dress and some knee high socks

    and we drove downtown. i told her yo after 45 minutes we can leave. in n out. just like always.

    we had great seats and within minutes she was all over me

    im so glad we came, she said and hugged me.

    it was good. sorta like devo. minus the great devo tunes.

  10. Monday, December 11, 2017

    i made it through the wilderness 

    i know i know i know

    but i was sick.

    then i got busy. then i got sick again. now im good.

    im not good good because i have this issue with coughing that i will cough up phlegm but whatever its the winter and im a sensitive poet

    and so many emotional things are happening in and around LA it’s bizarre.

    for instance, at UCSB they had to cancel all of their finals so the kids can run away and hide at their parents house because of the fires up there.

    my favorite teacher has had to pack up her family and shes considering just going to the ocean in a rowboat and watching the world burn from the sea

    meanwhile we are seeing super weird photos of the smoke rising from the santa barbara + ventura region and it’s scary because when I think of the central coast

    i think of the safest region in the whole world

    it’s where i hope to escape to when The Big One strikes LA.

    so to see it in misery like this is horrid. then of course there is the soon death of the Internet via Net Neutrality. Trump is trying to get the Middle East fighting with themselves. And the Cubs lost out on both the great hitter from Miami and the pitcher/hitter from Japan.

    the only thing making me believe in humanity right now are my friends, the pretty girl who parades around my house half nude, and the upcoming Star Wars film which i have secured tickets for on Thursday night at 10pm even though i will probably fall asleep before the previews are over.

    which brings us to Pussy Riot, Russias finest all-female punk band

    who plays this week, two different nights in LA, and i wanna see it but i have to make money at Uber

    and im so tired,

    so tired.

    so.