I had a real hard time acclimating to Chicago when I first moved in 2006. So hard in fact I packed it in after a year and a half and moved back in with my parents. There were many mitigating factors of course but the size, the crowded isolation, the grind of the city drained me. Chicago chewed me up and spit me out.
Settled in Rockford, gradually putting my life back together, I wrote this song about how much I hated Chicago.
Who knew Myspace was still active, I haven't looked at my profile since I uploaded this song 5 years ago. Unfortunately it's been about that long since I picked up my guitar. I was pretty passionate about music all through college and for a couple years after. I use to practice almost every day, learn about a song a month, and every once in a while write one of my own.
When I moved back to Chicago in 2010 I just stopped playing. Got too busy, couldn't find the time, got interested in other things. I miss playing and singing. One of my goals for this year is to restring my guitar and start making music again.
I've had the desire to be an artist as long as I can remember. I took piano lessons for a while but didn't have the discipline to practice. I took art classes in school and out from age 7 to 13 but showed no facility with any medium or ability to bring my ideas to actuality. I first got on stage at age 8 in a production of the Pied Piper, I was Councilman #3, and was intrigued. At age 11 I was in a staged production of a number of Aesop's Fables. It was the first time I got laughs from an audience, I was hooked and decided I wanted to be an actor.
Through middle school and high school I was in a number of plays and musicals. I cultivated my modest singing and dancing abilities. I had fun but I wasn't totally satisfied. I didn't feel like I was getting to express myself fully, I felt like acting fell more on the side of interpretation rather than creation. There was still something I wasn't getting, an undiscovered outlet.
Recently I've been reading, per Clayton's recommendation, this fantasy series Mistborn. In the books they describe the pivotal moment in someones life wherein they discover their magical abilities as "snapping". The moment I had my creative snap wasn't onstage but in my dorm room.
My college roommate was a guitarist and bassist, he turned me on to a bunch of musicians and I turned him on to a couple too. Fall of 2003 we were big into Tenacious D, Keller Williams, and Martin Sexton. One evening we were sitting around, Bob was playing guitar and I was playing Final Fantasy X on mute. For no particular reason we started singing- improvising lyrics and harmonies. By the end we had a complete song with a double chorus and two free-form verses, it was called "Trees". We performed it a couple weeks later at Theater of Ted, a weekly sign-up variety show, and got a great response.
It was the first time I put out something I created, the first time I felt a genuine collaboration. Bob and I wrote and performed songs the remainder of college and he taught me how to play guitar. Writing and performing original music gave me a unique satisfaction, a satisfaction I hadn't gotten from straight acting. A feeling of originality, singularity of purpose, and direct artistic expression. I continued to act but I became increasingly frustrated with speaking others words. That discontent eventually led me to improv and sketch comedy.
There's this new movie coming out called Son of God evidently cut from The Bible miniseries. I have no intention of seeing the movie but this song was in the trailer and it struck me. I got goosebumps despite the over-the-top subject matter. Come to find out it was also used for the Mad Max video game trailer. It's a cover of one of my favorite songs by 30's blues musician Blind Willie Johnson.
I am abashed to say it but what turned me on to Johnny Cash was the trailer for Walk The Line. The summer of 2005 was one of my darkest most lonely periods. I was a camp counselor at an affluent all boys 9 week camp in northern Wisconsin. I hated the entitlement of the boys, I hated the elitism of my co-workers(most former campers), and I hated the dirty mediocrity of the grounds. I felt trapped. Three weeks in I crashed and totaled my beloved 1999 Buick Regal in the woods while driving under the influence. I was almost fired but was allowed to stay through the remainder of my contract. I was in a hellish purgatory. Stranded and alone I found my solace in movies. The Woodruff movie theater offered little in the way of variety, with nothing else to do and with a blossoming depression I went to Stealth. Easily one of the worst movies I have ever seen. Before the movie they ran the preview for the Johnny Cash biopic. I saw a solitary man dressed in black and heard the haunting beginnings of the track Folsom Prison Blues. I was inspired. I felt like someone was telling my story.
When the summer was over I got a pair of black cowboy boots, a couple black button ups, and a couple pairs of black slacks. I wore all black almost every day for a year. I began to voraciously consume as much Johnny Cash music as I could. From the original Sun records to the American records. I began to learn his songs on guitar. He became my hero. The music and the man resonated with me- love, loneliness, rebellion, addiction, compassion, struggle, and redemption.
I still wear black often and listen to Johnny Cash but his influence has become more internal. He contributed to my sense of justice and individuality. I still turn to his music for comfort and motivation. I recently finished the biography Johnny Cash The Life which was exhaustive in its detail. The most interesting was the extensive discography- why songs were written, what inspired them, what influence they had. The most surprising thing was the debunking of certain Cash myths. His sobriety and fidelity were the two big ones. It was unsettling.
This past week I burned the midnight oil racing through the book. I couldn't put it down. I learned more about the real life of Johnny Cash. The truth from the fiction. A line often repeated in the book is "he never let the facts get in the way of a good story" and after reading it I decided I like the fiction better. Whatever the ups and downs in the personal life of Johnny Cash, whatever his flaws, they ultimately don't change or undermine what he means to me. It doesn't change the singular way in which I hear his music. Doesn't effect his artistic impact. And for the man and the music I will be eternally grateful.
Last night The Hague had a show at iO, it was probably our best show to date, everything came together in a very organic pleasing way. Our show was totally eclipsed, however, by The Dream.
The Dream is usually the second or third act in an improv show at iO. The host brings someone up from the crowd, interviews them about their day, then the improvisers do a piece based on the response. Sometimes it can be fun, most of the time its relatively sedate. Last night The Dream was very different.
The first striking difference was it was just seven of us, instead of the Deltones the second show was going to be a one person musical and that person wasn't going to participate. The usual number of people doing it is 15-30. The second thing was the guy that did it. His name was Perry and he was a new agey guy who talked about getting his tarot cards read, being a spiritual traveler, transitioning from being a telemarketer to a spiritual healer, and playing an instrument called a Hang Drum. He has a daughter named Truth.
As the interview progressed I started to panic. The stuff he was saying was not typical and once we started doing scenes it could go from fun to making fun of him very quickly. I was anticipating it to be very difficult and to go very badly. He had his hang drum with him and we invited him to accompany Dave on piano while we improvised. It has this resonate, sharp, bell like quality.
The piece itself was a shocking success. It was very organic with little to no scenic elements- a lot of narrating, physical transformations, and direct address. It was the first time in a long time an improv piece I was in felt almost solely artistic, we didn't try to make jokes or do bits at all, it had a very trance like quality- ethereal and fleeting. We ended it by all seven of us mirroring him playing the hang drum with its tinkling foreign tones filling the room.
It's relatively unsatisfying describing an improv show, I know, but this one was special, unique, and one I'll never forget.
I didn't develop a real interest in music until high school.The first album I ever bought was Metallic's Ride The Lightening. I didn't like it. I figured out early that I don't like hard rock, punk rock, heavy metal or any kind of music that could be described as "hard". It made me feel crazy, made me want to lash out.
Music didn't open up for me until I bought Beck's Odelay in 1997. I listened to the album start to finish endlessly. It made me feel good, it made me want to dance, it made me realize how effecting music could be if you find the right kind. My favorite track is "Readymade"
A couple years later, junior year of high school, I saw O' Brother Where Art Thou? I discovered the blues and country and fell in love. I found a type of music that spoke to me, that I identified with, and I was hooked. The titular song in the film "Man Of Constant Sorrow" I loved but when I heard "Hard Time Killin' Floor Blues" in the scene with the main characters huddled around a camp fire my world opened up.
I through myself into the blues devouring John Lee Hooker, Skip James, Blind Willie Johnson, Muddy Waters, R.L. Burnside, Robert Johnson, Tommy Johnson, Son House, and B. B. King. However my modern day music exposure was slim to none. My college roommate Bob, who was and is a musician, introduced me to a ton of modern day artist that inspired me to pick up a guitar and Bob and I to start writing songs. The song that hit me the hardest was Martin Sexton's "Can't Stop Thinking About You" Bob and I discovered it during the perfect time. I had just got out of an intense emotional relationship and was heartbroken.
Since college HP and Beanpole have single handedly cultivated and expanded my contemporary musical taste. HP burned me the Saul Williams record and "List Of Demands" has gotten me amped up ever since.
Towards the end of college I discovered Johnny Cash. The first track I heard was "Folsom Prison Blues". I immedately felt a kinship with him and his music. Felt inspired and lifted up. Felt a harmony with it. Felt hardened, tempered like steel. His words and songs expressed exactly how I felt. I finally found someone who understood and expressed the storm within that I couldn't put words to.
Becoming obsessed with Johnny Cash lead me to look for more country music. I started to learn Johnny Cash songs and broadened to Hank Williams. I got into Hank III, o'death, and Adrienne Young but was always more partial to the music of the past.
I still love the blues and the majority of music is Johnny Cash. I rarely hear recent stuff now, only when Beanpole and HP send me mixes. What you like, what resonates with you, fills in the gaps, molds you.
What a person listens to can tell a lot about them. Some people may call that shallow, I call it true.
"This is how we go on: One day at a time, one meal at a time, one pain at a time, one breath at a time... We say yes, I agree that the clouds often look like other things--fish and unicorns and men on horseback-- but they are really only clouds. Even when lightning flashes inside them we say they are only clouds and turn our attention to the next meal, the next pain, the next breath, the next page. This is how we go on." -Stephen King
Yesterday out of no where Chloe asked me if I wanted to go to a concert of a guy I had never heard of, Robyn Hitchcock. The concert was at City Winery a relatively pretentious and slick venue in the near west side. When we got there we discovered the concert was coupled with a wine pairing that was suppose to "enhance" and "deepen" the musical experience. Needless to say Chloe and I didn't purchase the wine pairing and we were uninterested in any explanations of the wine or their intended effect.
When Hitchcock took the stage it turned out local WXRT DJ and buffoon Norm Winer was going to sit on stage and interject Hitchcock's set with explanations of the wine and how they were suppose to "meld" with the songs.
Hitchcock is an old-school folk-rock musician who is quirky, kind of awkward, and surprising surrealist with his lyrics as well as between-song pater. His set was amazing and definitely had a peculiar but enjoyable energy, Chloe and I were the youngest people there who weren't accompanying their parents. My favorite songs from his set were "Harry's Song" and "Be Still" from his latest album.
Norm Winer being on stage was ludicrous. He is clearly incredibly self involved, he constantly interrupted Hitchcock to steer conversation towards himself and who he's met and went into long unnecessarily protracted explanations of the different wines.
I had no interest in wines even when I was drinking and now it seems almost idiocy to pretend that particular reds and whites would improve a concert experience above and beyond regular drinking. Maybe it would if you had a significantly refined pallet but I don't think most of the people there were wine experts.
Some of my favorite moments of the evening were when Hitchcock would speak off the cuff.
"So at this point you should be in a dream like state. You're in a garden with Norm. Norm is dressed in a wondrous white tuxedo. You see in front of you this flower with blue pedals, you get closer and you look inside and its cream colored, you should be wondering why is the outside blue and the inside cream, but you're not you like this cream color and you touch it and it feels like cream. You look around to tell Norm about the cream colored center of this blue flower. And he looks like he's right behind you but in fact he's far away talking to some hooded figure..."
Speaking about Paul McCartney never drinking any beverage onstage "He probably visited a shaman. In a cave off a cove somewhere. And he said to the shaman, 'give me a super power' and he did, he did."
My first week back to work is complete and it's an odd feeling. The past 8 months I've gotten rest and sometimes too much rest. I've had time enough to get things done but in that time got little done. Now, one week in, I feel energized. Simply getting up early, going to bed early, having my sleep regulated and at times shortened has made me feel more alert, more awake, more present.
I've heard of writers going off to isolated cabins to spend months writing. But always it seems they come back to the world. They come back because they need inspiration. They need fuel for the stories they need to tell. They go off to limit distractions, to focus, to wrestle their ideas out on paper. But after the idea has been expunged, laid out, exorcised, its time to go out and find another one.
In the past 8 months I put up a sketch show, wrote and recorded a podcast, and began writing another show. But now its time to reenter the work-a-day world: to ride the train, to make some money, to survive the grind. To be inspired. Now the time I have is precious and I am doing more in it. I think it will be sometime before I have a job that I enjoy. Until then I use it to pay bills and get out into the world. To meet new people, handle new situations, discover new stories to tell.
I miss the dark. Chicago is a great place to live and I love it. But there are things I miss. Light pollution makes every night bright. There are street lamps on almost every street. There are no shadows, no secret places, nothing left to the imagination. Of course it needs to be light at night to keep people safe. Even so something is lost in big cities, a certain mystery, a connection to our past.
There are a lot of parks in Rockford where I'm from. One of my favorite things was to go out and hike at night. It wasn't pitch black but dark. My friends and I would take hikes using our night and peripheral vision to find our way. There was always a small bit of fear which in a way was thrilling. The fear was a childhood fear of the dark and as an adult feeling that fear is almost nostalgic. There's something fulfilling about going out and feeling an old fear, no matter how old, and overcoming it.
I worked at a camp in Rockford for seven years. Once a summer the staff would spend the night out in the park. Every time we did I would lead a night hike with no torches or flashlights. There's something comforting and evocative of the past about being swallowed up by the dark, surrounded by trees, and knowing which way to go. Or maybe not caring.
The most surprising things can be found in the dark.
I went to Carlson Elementary School in Rockford and I find a lot of things from that time still sticking with me especially the songs. Every Friday the whole school would get together for 'All School Sing' where we would sing a bunch of songs for the two hours before school got out. We sang the Halloween song, a President song which taught us all the presidents in order, we sang Everyday People by Three Dog Night to learn about tolerance, The Purple People Eater, Splish Splash, Old Time Rock and Roll, tons of songs.
I loved singing and still do, I give most of the credit to those all school sings. Every now and again one of these songs from the past will pop back into my head and won't get out. This week Wheel of the Water has been in my head constantly. So much so I'm going to write a sketch involving it in some capacity. Give it a listen and enjoy. It's about the water cycle!
I also just remembered we sang this song a lot too. Maybe it was when we were studying the Revolutionary War and reading The Fighting Ground by Avi...
This song is on the soundtrack of the upcoming movie The Host. Ever since Punam and I saw the preview we've been really into it. I love the build and the cadence. It's a get-you-pumped-up type of song. Makes me feel like I'm running down a hill.
(From Holy Motors, my favorite film scene of the year)
During the holidays it seems like everything slows down. People leave town, work stops, there's a general lull. The world takes a deep breath, there's a pause. It's the time for relaxation and reflection. Take a break before the old year ends and the new year begins.
