February 5, 2012
Tips For New Musicians, And Yes, You Need Them

At what point do I have to sit here and ponder how the hell certain bands get signed to labels?

 



I guess now would be a good time.

 The idea of a music label, as I’ve said before, has changed immensely not even over the past twenty or thirty years, it’s only been a mere twelve.



 

It’s the year 2000. You’re in a band that has local success, state-wide success, and somewhat regional United States popularity. A label seeks you out, gets you to sign a few contracts, and throws you into the studio. Your first album is set to release, so four weeks before it comes out, your first single hits radio.

It doesn’t fair so well, so the label releases another single two weeks after the album’s release. If that one doesn’t fair well, you get another record out with one single, your last shot. No money after that = no contract.

 

Twelve years ago, you had three chances. Nowadays, labels are down to giving you one. You have one single that can be released WELL ahead of the album, and if it doesn’t get the popularity the label wants, it’s curtains and no album is seen.

This occurred to me when friends of mine in the NE Florida band Son of a Bad Man were signed and dropped from a label I’ll leave anonymous (for the sake of avoiding lawsuits).

I don’t think the guys did anything wrong. I used to book the singer Shawn at a little venue in Fernandina years ago when he was a solo acoustic act, and out of the handful of times I met the members in the band, they’ve all been tremendously nice and thankful for the support they’ve received.

This got me thinking, especially after a couple conversations I’ve had recently with fellow musicians and conversations I’ve had with musicians in the past, and I think a check-list is need just for being in a band. I won’t tell you how to sound, I won’t tell you how to play, but I think there are behavior points to grasp when starting a band and attempting to grow in popularity, a few I’ve gathered from my own experiences, and a few I’ve seen occur through the grape vine.

1. Don’t Burn Bridges

 

You’ll have a few shit-gigs here and there when you start. It’s a rare occasion that your first gig is an amazing gig where you’re paid a good amount and everything goes well. If it’s your first time on stage with a new band, someone will get nervous, someone will fuck-up, and someone will get over-excited and jump ahead unless extensive rehearsing happens. Regardless, you’ll have a gig. Once you get into it, you’ll probably play some seedy places, and I guarantee you’ll probably get ripped off a few times.

Great example: With my previous band, we played a place in Jax Beach that booked us once, liked us, and allowed me to put on shows of my own. I got to book the bands, I got to organize it. After a few gigs, I realized the pay was decreasing yet the crowd wasn’t. At some point, we just decided to turn down any gigs that were offered at said venue. At another point in between, mouths were ran, shit was said, the story was told repeatedly and I’m sure word got back to the promoter, so we weren’t even offered gigs anymore.

We could’ve played with Agent Orange, Authority Zero, The Toasters, and Voodoo Glow Skulls at any point at this venue, and because we ran our mouths, we lost the opportunity. The pay wasn’t even the issue, we could’ve had a bit of notice by bands much bigger than us and we kind of blew it in that sense.

If you get screwed over and don’t think you should play a gig at a certain venue, keep your mouth shut and just say “No thanks.” That’s all you need to do. This leads a little into my next point…

2. It’s Not About The Money

 

When you record some music, whether it’s a rough-cut or a good demo, you’ll get booked. When you get booked, the idea is to get them to say how much you’ll get paid, and you can negotiate based on that.

If you book locally (within an hours drive), you don’t get a say.

If you book regionally/statewide (3 hours or more drive), you need enough to cover gas and expenses, which honestly, about $100 might be enough. Any longer of a drive is more than a day-trip, so lodging may need covering unless you have friends with couches.

The biggest thing when you start out is that you’re there to get fans, not money. If you walk into a venue and demand the $350 you were “promised,” the crowd will find out and one label will stick with you for the rest of your days: douchebag.

This is why no one books certain comics anymore as well, and why they lose popularity, Mr. Pauly Shore…asshole…another time, another tale, but it leads into my next point.

3. Always Be Humble

 

Rise Against is a huge band. Rise Against are preachy in they’re songs, but they’re a big band. Rise Against are cocky bastards to fans, so…douchebags.

 

Some of you might like them, but when a packed ampitheatre of 4,000 people are there for the band before your set then LEAVE before you play, there’s a reason behind it (good work, St. Augustine).

I like to use the Motion City Soundtrack example as much as I can. Nice guys, always happy to see fans, always taking pictures and TALKING with fans. Ryan Dunn was one to do the same thing, he got engaged in conversation and got to know his fans, which is an awesome thing for someone who others might look up to, even if he did shove a Hot Wheels up his ass.

When bands are nice, they’re remembered more often. When the ol’ band did a weekend in Miami, we hung out and talked with people we didn’t know, and I believe we gave off a very nice persona. Some people still talk to us from that weekend gig. I’m not even in the band anymore and I have been asked when we’re coming back down. THAT’S something you want fans to ask.

 

4. Get A Solid Fan-Base Before ACTUALLY Touring

The progression should be simple, and 3OH3! actually did it themselves:

Pack local show, then work on tri-county.

Pack tri-county shows, then work on the state.

Pack state shows, then work on regional.

So on and so forth.

 

Tours can get to be tedious when you’re going to places where no one really knows you.

Also, “packed” means nearly sold-out. GTF has done it a few times, but I don’t think we ever got to the point of playing headlining shows in other cities comfortably. If you’ve never played the city you’re scheduled to play.

A big thing with a fan base is that labels notice when others have heard you. I don’t necessarily prefer them, but Nickelback was signed because they were selling out shows in New York and Canada, hence a fan base. Son of a Bad Man here in Jacksonville had they’re record contract signed because they had a huge following and still do, so there’s always a second chance.

 

5. Don’t Reject Constructive Criticism From People Who WANT TO HELP YOU

 

I was approached by a former friend of mine a few years ago who was managing a band called Mindslip, who still exist and are local to the Jax/Daytona areas. This friend (female) begged me to put them on my then radio show and send them to a record label I accidentally name-dropped because I wasn’t thinking of who the hell I was talking to.

So after some pleading, I finally put them on the air ONCE. I sent their Myspace account (that’s how long ago this was) to the exec. I knew, and his response was “They sound like a Nickelback cover band, which isn’t bad, but we want something more original.”

I told my female cohort that the exec just said “No, thank you.”

When those words came out, she went off on how he didn’t know talent when he heard it and that he was a piece of shit.

What I DIDN’T tell her is that my label contact is Vice President of said label, which is in fact a MAJOR label, and that he signed many big-name bands well-known in the alternative scene.

He said one thing that could’ve just been left as a hint for them to work harder, a comment I didn’t even tell her, and it caused her to fire bullets at a nuclear missile silo. Some time after this happened, she asked me if I could put her band on the air. I told her to fuck off.

If people tell you things in confidence that you won’t hear from the suck-ups who just want to know you when you’re famous, they’re not criticizing, they’re trying to tell you things that people might want to hear. If it helps you at all, then hooray! If it doesn’t work, then fuck ‘em.

When you’re an independent unsigned band who doesn’t have a huge following or a label, you have no room to say anything negative about other bands. You’ve heard the phrase about not making fun of others that could one day be your boss? You don’t make fun of bands or get demanding of fans who could make you money. Ever. If you’re looking for a singer to do some vocals on your album as a collaborative effort, you don’t bitch and whine about how all of the ones you’ve tried-out so far “suck horribly.” When you do that, you lose the fans and friends you need to get you places so you may have your own source of “fuck you” money.

6. Don’t Piss Off Promoters. Period.

7. Let Promoters Know In Advance That You Can’t Make a Show.

A fucking given.

 

Hopefully this leads a few of you along the way.

2:59am  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/ZPpSjxFwBvgs
(Notes: 1)
  
January 31, 2012
Finally Writing It

On November 2nd, 2003, I sat in my room and stared at my acoustic guitar for three hours. A song was playing in my head, my eyes were staring at the strings, and I barely took time to blink. Finally, I grabbed my guitar and hammered out a melody that close friends know as “Jeramy’s Song.”

I took those chords in 2007 and created another song for a friend that had lost her fiance. Those chords are now present, although a step higher, in “A Song for Vanessa.”

Last year, I took a visit to his grave for the first time since his passing. I said some words, paid my respects, and then sat in my car crying for about ten minutes before leaving.

A little under two months ago, I played around on my guitar while in the DADAAD tuning and created some pretty chords. While playing these, I thought of my friend. I thought of that faded Superman shirt with an eyepatch, glasses, and fedora, and calling him “The strangest pirate I’d ever seen.”

I remember jumping off the back staircase in the middle school auditorium with all of our male classmates after one of our buddies shocked him by doing it first. I remember his reaction as it happens with the appalled look on his face, then the sudden laughter as he realized it was only a 6 ft drop. We all did it after that, only to feel the shock hit our heels as the pain reached up to our hips.

I remember two weeks before his passing on his birthday, I had a matinee play performance for Cheaper By the Dozen, so I missed the gathering of all of our friends. I skipped my cast party to go afterwards, and I played his guitar in the corner, just the covers I knew, not much else. The last song I played before I stopped was “Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)” by Green Day (ironic, I know). I also remember him having to pee and being immobile on the couch, so his mom brought him the hospital container they use on patients, and while I walked away, I said “I don’t care how sick you are, I don’t want to see your dong.”

I remember him telling me I was a weird kid, and laughing about it. I remember the arguments Darby and I had when we were rehearsing for the talent show, and how he ran after me to get it all squared away so there wasn’t tension and everything was forgiven.

I remember the funeral. I was the only person with dry eyes in the room. Everyone told sad stories, or read poems. The pastor had left it an open mic. I walked up and told the funniest stories I could think of, and that packed church laughed for ten minutes before weeping again when I stepped down. Darby looked at me and said “You could’ve handled that entire sermon.”

I remember sleeping over at his house with our buddy Christian after going to Moon River one that night. Christian and I had a battle over who could eat more pizza (I won). Later that night, we all crashed in the living room while watching Scooby-Doo.

At 4:13 am, I started writing lyrics for a new song. A song in honor and memory of my friend Jeramy Burnsed.

It’s been nearly 9 years and I still have a hard time coping with it. When you make friends, losing them is hard. When you have a best friend or sibling who’s passing is foretold by a disease, it becomes a burden. When you’re the person who knows his time is due, if you’re that sibling or that best friend, you’ve got a lot of thoughts in your head. Jeramy’s mind was always on the right path: to see the better or what is there, and to take every day one breath at a time. When he found out, he did what he could to make the most of everything and spread the word of love to everyone and anyone. He looked at cancer and laughed. It was the kryptonite to his Superman. 

I wrote this because I didn’t want to forget. I have this fear that I’ll forget the most important things about people that I don’t want to lose thought of. I didn’t know what memories I had when I started writing this. I spent maybe a little over a half hour typing out these thoughts, these words, these memories, and this is what I have. I can only imagine what happens if I try harder.

I’m glad I wrote this. Through bitter tears and sorrow, though a hard topic to dive into, I’m really glad I wrote this.

I remember Jeramy, my friend, and I hope I always do.


****
Jeramy Burnsed was born on October 15, 1986, and passed away on October 30, 2003 from an inoperable cancerous brain tumor. Prior to the tumor and treatment, he was an honor-roll student, a football player, and actor, and a die-hard Christian. He always wore the same Superman shirt, being his favorite comic-book hero. That shirt currently resides in Tampa, FL with Mr. Christian Benecke, one of his best friends. Devin Hughes currently possesses Jeramy’s acoustic guitar, and he promises that there’s not a scratch on it and that it still shines just as much as the day he received it. Jeramy is survived by his mother Jodi; sister’s Shelby and Talyor; his father; stepfather James; and an enormous amount of friends that carry on his memories. If you tried to speak ill of him at any time, you would be severely beaten, because knowing him would allow you to understand that you couldn’t say a harsh or misguided word about him. To many of us, he was the greatest person we’ve ever known. To all of us, he was Superman. To Devin, he was a weird looking Pirate.

That’s not his obituary. It’s my rendition of one. For those that read this and don’t know who he is, I hope this gives you some idea. 

5:43am  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/ZPpSjxFgBnxo
January 29, 2012

11:36pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/ZPpSjxFc6z3m
January 29, 2012
I’m so proud of myself.

I’m so proud of myself.

10:54pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/ZPpSjxFb_38G
January 23, 2012
Juan’s Message - For Those Wanting to Record It

“Look Hughes, I don’t even know you and have nothing against you other than the fact that you’ve been messing with my girl…well now she wants me to fight for her, and I’m not about to go hunt you down and smash your face in, that’s not my style and plus I see no need for it…and I’ll tell you what else I’m not gonna do, I’m not gonna sit around and watch you do what you will with her…last time I sent you a message I told you to take her if you dared, I wanted to see if you had the guts and really cared about her enough to try and take her from me…and your response was to say that you were “backing off”…bull crap…well she misinterpreted what I did and let herself believe something else regarding that…well I’m making it very clear now, and I’ll tell you what I WILL do, and that’s tell you what I should’ve said a long time ago…BACK OFF!!! For real this time, no bull crap, no messing around, you want to be her friend fine, but it STOPS THERE…she made it clear what her choice is and said you were clear on yours as well…but I still see things going in the wrong direction and if it’s just her you’d BETTER make it clear to her that NOTHING is going to happen between you two because she is MINE, and even if for some unfortunate reason she forgets that, I do remind her, and I remind YOU, and if it’s the case YOU remind her who she really belongs to, and that’s ME…so one more time and just to be clear, if she wants me to fight for her here I am, stating my case and holding nothing back, and if you have anything to object we can meet face to face and talk it out…but if not then you watch yourself, keep off my precious angel cause she’s mine, and I’m not about to let her go to you…and go ahead and send this to her, just like you did last time…go ahead, do it! Have a nice life Devin”

9:46pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/ZPpSjxFGk94z
January 18, 2012
cosplaydeviants: Speak out against #SOPA http://AmericanCensorship.org/

cosplaydeviants:

Speak out against #SOPA http://AmericanCensorship.org/

1:26am  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/ZPpSjxEypqAH
(Notes: 60)
  
January 7, 2012
Give Me Spirit or Give Me Spirits!

I would just like to say that sometimes, everywhere, people just feel a bit rapetastic. 

That’s not to say that they want to rape anyone, it’s more of a thing about just wanting the power or possession or something along the lines of having repressed memories or simply becoming ecstatic at the sight of a butt, I’m honestly not sure.

Psychology says that rape…

Well, let me clear something up. I’m not going to nor will I ever or have I ever raped someone. It’s not part of my personality. The most I’ve ever done with possession is try and get my cat to obey a command (I know, the IMPOSSIBLE) which in turn caused her to scratch the hell out of me. This incident pretty much ended my dominant stage.

So, psychology says that rape has no real one cause, but a list of potentially many: power, sadism, sexual gratification (yup, sex does have something to do with it), or simply anger.

WHY people even FATHOM rape is another story. The stories that freak me out and terrify me the most are the ones that involve men on men (possibly because I’m a man) or any of the ones involving children. Don’t get me wrong, raping a woman is just as bad as the other two I mentioned, but that seems to occur more often. I’m not sexist, I empathize with my female friends, I just hear less about the male dominating male rapes than the male dominating female rape.

Rather than go into a long diatribe about rapes, raping, etc., I brought it up because it’s something that you can’t joke about. It’s not a funny topic, there’s nothing humorous about it, it’s spouting bullshit when people think they can’t write one.

What weirds me out is this:

“I’ve been trying to write some wordplay jokes on the subject of rape. The problem is they all look a bit forced.”

As opposed to…

“Q: Who did Michael Jackson consider a Perfect “10″?
A: Two 5 year olds.”

How the hell does that work?

The subject of celebrities always seems to be something that makes people laugh. There’s a simple reason: people that are deemed to show us perfection are some of the most fucked-up people on the planet.

Reality television comes to mind. 

Aside from that, people treating reality television stars as if they’re celebrities comes more to mind. 

Two years ago, I’m in Fort Lauderdale with a female friend of mine. I was staying at her parents house a couple days, I hadn’t been that far south, so I asked if it was alright and they seemed cool with it. We go to the ever popular Ft. Lauderdale Beach, a central tourist location, when we notice a few models doing a shoot and none other than a few of the guys from MTV’s Jersey Shore present, Mr. Pauly D and Mike “The Situation” Sorrentino.

Now at this point, I had never seen the show. Ever. I knew about it, I had no interest in it, and I tried to avoid it as much as possible. We had with us in tow a 17 year-old friend of my cohort who was a huge fan and wanted to meet them. I suggested we walk over, which we obliged, and our young friend asked for a picture with Mike. 

His publicist was, in best terms, a bitch, and rudely told us it wouldn’t happen. Mike himself was a gentleman (no sarcasm, actually a nice guy) and said “I can’t do it cause she’s my boss, but I can tomorrow all day. I don’t really have any say in it.” We heard this, I said thanks anyway, told him congrats on the show, got a sincere thanks and left. 

Teenage cohort starts crying.

From meeting a reality television star.

Who now gets invited to red carpet events.

…

How does this work again?

So I don’t need to be talented, I just need to spray myself orange, put enough gel in my hair to make it hard enough so a sledgehammer could shatter on the surface, get peck implants, then prance around like a monkey while simultaneously eating fecal matter and mimicking Discovery Channel apes to figure out “what I’m going to do for the rest of my life.”

Kids ages 14-22 are the ones that watch this show the most and have the biggest amount of vulnerability with what the shows present. Some people simply watch for the train wrecks that occur like Jerry Springer in the 1990’s, while some think it’s actually good programming.

Beavis and Butthead are back on MTV, and that show makes a lot more sense than a bunch of half-Italian kids marketing primitive man and bringing us back to the stone age. I want to cry knowing that they brought Mike onto the Roast of Donald Trump on as a celebrity roaster. The audience didn’t like him for obvious reasons, the celebrities and comedians didn’t like him for obvious reasons, and for some fucking reason, the person he seemed to be replacing was the late Greg Giraldo, a brilliant comedian with intricate thoughts, and Mike’s best joke is “Thanks, Jeff” after Seth MacFarlane (I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!) introduces him. 

So I work my ass off trying to do acting for a living, trying to be a musician, and trying to write complex and detailed stories of life, yet you get millions of dollars for mistakingly calling Seth MacFarlane by the wrong name?

Fuck. That.

Celebrities themselves, even THE REAL ones, are turning into these mindless reality stars. Tabloids seem to be the new thing that get everyone’s attention. Give a celebrity a bottle of whiskey to take to friends, get a picture of him walking into a restaurant with bottle in hand, and headlines will read “So-and-So RAGING ALCOHOLIC! CAN’T WAIT LONG ENOUGH FOR THE BAR!”

Tom Cruise’s answer is simple. He just sues everyone that says anything negative about him. Although I do think there might have been a few screws loosened over the years, I do think Cruise is a NICE guy from what I’ve gathered, and he does know how to act. He is in fact a very underrated actor to me and I don’t know why he’s never seen an academy award with his name on it.

Then you have the Michael Jackson (RIP) type celebrities, who dig themselves deeper every appearance they have. Jackson was a young black child, a member of his band of brothers The Jackson 5 when he was in his youth (black then), then went into a solo career as a teenager (still black), released Thriller (not back in, but still black), then at some point before 1990, a white man claiming to be Michael emerges (bleached). Then what started to come out of his mouth came to be the most frightening things that anyone has ever heard, including his defense on the child molestation cases.

Now it comes full circle. It’s ok to laugh at celebrities as long as they’re raging lunatic’s who are hellbent on destroying the fabric of creation an evolution as far as we know.

Wait, that’s all of them.

I titled this entry because there are two things that come to mind when I see people of fame or friends of mine with famous people: there’s some sort of hope out there. I believe it takes a kindred spirit to have the belief that one could get famous, especially if the talent is there. I recorded my voice demo (finally) the other day and I think that’ll be a fun thing to do and use. The added part is because I can’t fathom how some people get famous. Lindsay Lohan’s a bad actress, full of enough cocaine and heroin that she bleeds meth, and yet, still has publicity.

The logic that occurs: If you have an amount of talent that is impossible to hide OR if you like doing a lot of drugs and making a fool of yourself, you’ll make millions of dollars.

Can anyone see why I’d want to turn to drinking?

12:20pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/ZPpSjxEPMaiq
December 22, 2011
Holy Hell It’s Holiday Hell

I was doing a play recently at the local theatre. We had put on the stage adaptation for A Christmas Story (not Dickens, think BB Guns). Since it’s a small theatre, we always said our merriments to people after the show in the lobby. Closing night came, and as we were shaking hands in the lobby, a gentleman who seemed to be in his 50’s went up to everyone and said “Happy Holidays.”

It’s a Christmas play, with a Christmas themed lobby, and you’re referencing the other ones by trying to stay politically correct.

I’m pretty sure his mind contains a depiction of Jesus raping Santa with a candy cane.

I can understand that being said in places that had a large variety of religions, like New York City or Los Angeles, but should you really give that much of a crap about a Salvation Army dude dressed up as Santa to tell the guy “Happy Holidays?”

I mean, really, does Santa celebrate Hanukkah? When did he convert to Judaism or has he been that way all along? I don’t remember getting Captain Abraham Goldberg and his special action menorah with my extraneous G.I. Joe collection from my childhood. Granted, I had Jewish friends growing up, but I still recall them telling me Merry Christmas as I told them Happy Hanukah. Some of them even celebrate Christmas as well, so what the fuck’s really going on here?

I enjoy kosher food as much as the next person, but I say what I say because that’s what I celebrate. I will forever and a day say Merry Christmas to everyone I see. Ask my Jewish friends or any of my African-American friends (you know, for the sake of getting too stupidly p.c., we’ll say my black friends instead):

If you tell a Jew or a black man that doesn’t celebrate Christmas around this time of year “Merry Christmas” in passing, THEY DON’T GIVE A SHIT.

In one hand, you have Christmas: the joyous Christian holiday to celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ, who although was born (historically speaking) in summer, the Catholic church could not pin-point an accurate date so they took a date of their decision and used it as such. This holiday is celebrated by gift exchanges and a random Coca-Cola sponsor by the name of Santa.

In the other hand, Hanukkah: the Jewish holiday based on the “festival of lights” celebrated by lighting a 8-fingered candle stick called a menorah. This holiday spans over 8 evenings and features the gift exchange, mostly of school supplies from what I’ve been told.

On a third hand (you can make your own assumptions from where) or a combination of the two just with skin pigmentation, you have Kwanzaa: the African-American holiday that is a celebration of the culture and freedom that was cemented in 1966. They also celebrate with candles, like the Jews, but this is less of a martyr holiday and more of a joyous one.

Take the three holidays, throw them all in the same month, and what do you get? A combination of holidays. If you celebrate only one of the three, what do you do? Happy/Merry ________, what ever the hell you celebrate.

The biggest issue I have isn’t even the “Happy Holidays” being thrown out there like a prostitute in Vegas. It’s the representation aspect, who represents what now. 

Christmas: Jesus to Santa
Hanukkah: Judea to Adam Sandler
Kwanzaa: Maulana Karenga (Still alive and kicking)

Judging from these rep’s for the holiday season, Kwanzaa is not only the youngest holiday but also the one with the most meaning which is STILL RETAINED.

Santa Claus was created wayyyyy back in the day, the German Pagan’s thought of him in the 13th century, British and Dutch sometime in the 17th. He was a representation of the gift of giving. In the United States, on the other hand, Coca-Cola took these concepts and slapped them with red, white, and fat. Over the course of the past 50 years, Christmas has gone from a time of family and friends to a time of tackling and waking up the day after Thanksgiving to go shopping at 3 in morning for “deals” that are honestly just the same marketed price they were the week before with just a number on top crossed out to make you feel special.

That’s right, you’re losing money on “Black Friday.” Serves you right for being assholes who push and shove to get the last Tickle-Me Elmo.

The funniest part to the holiday to me is that historically speaking, Jesus was a summer baby, and his birthday is closer to mine (August-ish, I could be a Jesus baby). Some people have heard this, still take into context that we CELEBRATE in December, but start the festivities over summer. 

In July 2011, I was in an Old Navy in Jacksonville, buying a couple of polo shirts when on the speakers came “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas” followed by two more Christmas songs that I chose to ignore.

In July.

Independence Day is apparently nowhere near as important as Santa. Maybe Thomas Jefferson was really Santa all along. That explains the Declaration of Independence and the Bill of Rights missing the last part:

“Amendment eleven shall proclaim that presents shall be given to the children every December 25th, and this shall be reminded around the same time Jesus was born, in August. That should be about right.”

Folks, if you celebrate Christmas, tell everyone Merry Christmas. If you celebrate Hanukkah, tell people Happy Hanukkah. If you celebrate Kwanzaa (which I think only one of my black friends actually does, I don’t really know) then a Happy Kwanzaa to you.

To that, I say: Have a Merry Fucking Christmas, you bunch of P.C. assholes.

12:34am  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/ZPpSjxDcTuti
December 1, 2011
Gone Too Soon

The first time I’ve ever been saddened by a comedian’s passing was my senior year of high school when Mitch Hedberg died from a speedball overdose. Then later that year, multiple sclerosis took Richard Pryor away from us. A couple years later, George Carlin’s time came. Last year we lost Greg Giraldo and Mike DeStefano, then just yesterday, Patrice O’Neal had his end.

Everyone in the media markets on celebrity deaths, especially E!, that group of malicious fuckers who deserve nothing but to be drug out the in the street, curb-stomped, shot, stabbed, filled with dynamite, and lit on fire. When the explode, the ashes can be gathered and smoked by Keith Richards.

I’m not trying to market on the loss of comedians. I like to remember what I remember, and they’re comedians that I remember and know their work quite well. Pryor and Carlin, the two kings, followed by the Duke’s Hedberg and Giraldo, and the two jesters, O’Neal and DeStefano; all of them made the world laugh and we laughed with them at their misery, pain, and self-deprication. Their delivery was a catharsis for us to forget about and petty lives that we might have and their form of a catharsis as well so that their misery would seem just like a joke and they could move on.

Hedberg and Giraldo overdosed, DeStefano and Carlin had heart attacks, O’Neal and Pryor had complications from strokes and diseases. 

There isn’t a doubt in my mind that they were all too soon.

Generally, there’s an element of humor in what I write. I always try to keep the mood light as much as I can.

This time, I just want to tell everyone to take care of yourselves. There’s a lot out there that can do damage to your system, but in saying that, something that might be completely healthy for you can kill the person next to you.

So when I say take care of yourself, I mean to do what you love, love what you do. Live your life fully and never regret a day that goes by, because even the most mediocre things could make the biggest difference in the days following. Love every smile, every hug, every one around you is a new love of life that you can be a part of.

Take that into consideration.

-D 

1:05am  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/ZPpSjxCfVNo2
November 25, 2011
The Musical D: Part 1

Close friends call me a music nut. Closer friends call me a music Nazi.

That’s probably more true than the nut.

I have been fortunate enough to be raised with an eclectic musical background. My mother raised me on radio pop of the early 90’s when she used to drive my sister and I around; my father raised me on classic rock and oldies; my sister used to play me R&B constantly; and I used to have a neighbor who had me listen to alternative rock (headbanging at the age of four to Nirvana, Bush, and the Offspring…and people wonder why I’m weird). I never really got a feel for rap or hip-hop until recently but I’m starting to thoroughly enjoy what I hear. Although, with a few things that have emerged recently, there are some exceptions to enjoyable. It’s not necessarily music that I criticize, I can’t condemn people for their taste. There are just things that exist in the music world that I don’t understand.

Child singers for one, tweens and teens that emerge from the record label with a fresh career, making young girls cry out love all across the country and certain parts of the world.

The good news is that record labels make BANK off of these kids, giving them royalties and the life of luxury so that they may spend their time as they please with whoever they want while being followed by millions of fans.

The bad news is that most of these kids don’t survive past the age of 26. Not only that, but half of the record companies and/or parents take a huge chunk of the profits, not enough for the kids to survive on. JIVE Records was one of the worst when it came down to the N*Sync gang and Britney Spears. Timberlake and his buddies didn’t see a dime off of the millions upon millions of dollars made by their record sales, so they dropped their contract and sued…then JIVE countersued and they were double fucked with a two way with rechargeable batteries. Justin Bieber (I don’t like him, but I’ll get to that later) is probably going to be one of those people, unfortunately. Kid’s got it made right now, but give it another ten years and that boyish charm will wear off as well as that lesbian haircut and he’ll be sitting in a bed of vomit and Cheetos trying to figure out “where he went wrong.”

Don’t worry, Mr. Bieber. You didn’t do anything wrong, but you did bend over and get raped for twelve years.

More along the lines of the disliking portion, most of the people that survive the childhood whoring through means of a record label do have a chance of maintaining success throughout their career. However, some lose their minds in the process.

Bingo
Bingo.

I give Britney Spears another five years before she dissolves and fades away when people realize she’s not the next Madonna. 

What’s sad is that a vast majority of the younger generated singers that move into the mainstream end in their mid-to-late 20’s get stretched along so far that they beat themselves to death over being seen as young in the limelight. Justin Timberlake, who made the CORRECT move into acting since he’s actually pretty good at it, released a movie the same year that he made his last solo album. Lucky for him, Shrek was a lovable oaf (and a cash cow) that made Timberlake stick with acting, even getting into the critically acclaimed film The Social Network. We’ll overlook Yogi Bear as much as possible.

Christina Aguilera, on the other hand, has a magnificent voice and knows it. Thank GOD this girl can sing, or else we’d be stuck with Burlesque 2: Revenge of Cher. 

The kid stars of the generation that’s about halfway between mine and my sister’s is what I grew up with, but they’ve have had their moments in the sun and are just now starting to fizzle. Mariah Carey started out as a “young” singer at the age of 20 with her first album, and now that she’s pushing 42, it’s becoming clear that less and less of her is staying in the mainstream. However, she made a somewhat intelligent move for the time being by marrying a guy who is not only younger than her but currently popular, Mr. Nick Cannon, one of the former All That cast member’s who completely ruined the show for me. However, Nick’s boyish looks will eventually wear off and people will start to realize that with shows like America’s Got Talent, ANYONE could host the show.

Auto-tuning comes to mind with a lot of the younger stars as well. I saw a commercial for a product that was much like the Mr. Microphone of my younger years, with the exception of this being a battery powered microphone that auto-tunes whoever is talking into it.

So this is what we’re teaching our youth: They don’t have to be great singers, they just have to pretend like they are. It’s not enough that some of the stars that come out need god-given talents that project their amazing voices from here to the heavens. All they really have to do is hook up their microphone to a damn vocoder and have a keyboard standing by.

Fuck. That.

The worst part of it is that most of the radio-pop artists that are out today are completely auto-tuned, but to the point of being undetected. To a singer or someone with a musical ear, you hear this crap and begin to cry because they’ve hidden it so well that once you hear it, you’re filled with disappointment.

The best example and worst idea of EVER using auto-tuning for any sort of musical medium is on a television show.

Some of you will hate me for saying it, and don’t get me wrong, because I love music education and informing people of the arts, but why would you have a television show about a glee club that auto-tunes their actors? WHY, GLEE? WHY????

I know that some of you might be confused by this, but unfortunately, they do. I’ve never been a fan of the show, never really watched it or took a glimpse of it even though during my final years of college it was emerging and growing ever so popular, but I don’t hold that against them. If you’re a fan, you’re a fan. I DID manage to catch a glimpse of the episode with Gwenyth Paltrow some time ago. I didn’t watch too much, maybe about two minutes or so. I caught glimpse of one song. Just one song. I heard a good bit of it, and I know Paltrow can sing, so I wasn’t concerned about that.

However, there’s a part where she wails, and it is the most unnatural wail I’d heard. The voice has this keen ability to slide when it goes from pitch to pitch. When you’re “tuned,” it just shifts without sliding and it sounds awful.

I had a neutral respect for Glee for some time because it was encouraging (so I heard) arts education. After seeing this, not only did I lose all respect, but I realized that it’s just teen angst in theatre form. Most shows on television scare me enough nowadays to where I’ve nearly stopped watching the boob tube altogether, but there was hope in this show. Now I can only see it as yet another cash cow for Ryan Murphy to use as a medium to yell at bands for not wanting to put their music on the show.

Hmmm, do you think, Mr. Murphy, that these bands might just find out that you and a keyboard make the whole damn show, I dunno, a pointless piece of shit? When you do a show based off of a certain art, the idea is to do it naturally. I’m ashamed of how it’s been presented to our youth. Take a bit of time and actually find some actors that are, you know, theatrically active, and can do this thing called…”sing.” 

Crunk rap seems to get to me as well (don’t worry, I’ll keep it short). I grew up with the understanding that rap was a form of musical poetry and expression. I love that you have groups like The Roots and Black Star who bring a realist view of things to your view, but then you have the Lil’ group. I don’t care which ones you pick, they’re all bad. Lil’ Kim was probably the only one decent enough to stay along the lines of hip-hop, but even she faded out (thankfully) before the emergence of Lil Wayne and Young Jeezy, Wheezy, Cotton Peezy, Lemon Squeezy, and Febreezy.

Here’s a jem from Mr. Wayne called “She Will”:

“I tell her “now goin’ pop that pussy for a real nigga”
I already know that life is deep but I still dig her
Niggas is jealous but really I couldn’t care less
I’m in hell’s kitchen with an apron and a hair net”

Mr. Wayne, you captivate my soul.

Let’s check out some lyrics from a group I thoroughly enjoy named Chronic Future, a bunch of white guys from Phoenix, and their song “Stop Pretending”:

“If that type of magic when creative spurts burst
Can turn to a flat line from hospitalized bird chirps
Would you line up with me to be the first cursed
To prove to this nervous earth the universe works”

White guys from Phoenix wrote this. I rest my case.

Just what in the fuck is really going on?

My biggest pet peeve, however, and it ties in a little with the punk I’ve been listening to for years, is simply Selling Out.

A lot of my friends get mad at me when I mention it. They simply think that my mind goes along the lines of people taking a paycheck and they’re immediate sell-outs. No, not true. My idea of selling out is simply taking what you’ve been doing for years and completely FLIPPING just to appease the producers.

A lot of people have accused My Chemical Romance of it, but frankly, those guys started out that way, so they’re out of the picture.

Green Day, on the other hand, went from the kings of mainstream punk rock to the queens of lipstick and eyeliner, which I THOUGHT was RuPaul. They sold-out faster than Tickle Me Elmo did at Neverland Ranch. Starting off with a couple of albums that weren’t released on Capital, then the emergence of Dookie gave them the buzz on the airwaves and a platinum album that held their popularity. 

If you were born after 1991, it’s a bit hard for you to remember when the album hit radio in 1994 with the song’s Basket Case and Longview (probably because if you were born after 91’, there’s no way in hell you’d remember Dookie in your childhood aside from your siblings influence). Billy Joe talked about masturbation and therapy with prostitutes on stations that normally market people ages 6-20 and it was SHOCKING, it wasn’t meant for small children’s ears, yet we all heard it. Then came Nimrod where they kept a lot of their punk side to them, but the inclusion of Good Riddance (Time of Your Life) was a little less of their usual character. Although a heavy influence on many people (my life included, lots of history with that song), it wasn’t necessarily a “Green Day song.”

Then came Warning and everyone cried from the “happiness” of every song. The self-titled track from the album was an A-Major scale.

That was the entire song. It was pointless, craptastic music that had me baffled.

Then came American Idiot and Green Day was dead to me.

Just because an albums tracks are popular and overplayed doesn’t mean that it’s good. Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark is super popular despite being one of the biggest fuck-ups in Broadway history. 

They’re not the only ones to do it, but most of the pop-punk bands of the late 1990’s and early 2000’s started off with the eyeliner, so I can’t really crack on Good Charlotte since they’ve been doing it from the start.

Hello, Metallica. We meet again.

For these assholes, it’s a list:

  • In 1991, Metallica released a self-titled album with a black cover, given the rough title of The Black Album. Prior to the release of this album, Metallica was known for crazy metal songs, super-fast guitar solos, and above all destruction as the good book of metal may say. Then came this album and it was not only slow, but also catchy to everyone…very non-metal…very deceitful to fans.
  • In the year 2000 (ALL HAIL CONAN O’BRIEN!), Metallica and several other artists filed suit against the file sharing website known as Napster for breaking copyright laws. People would upload their music onto this program, and people all across the country could download other files from other computers (torrents are the common name now, little kids). The problem is that CD burners were also around at this time and people constantly made copies of CD’s as it was, which is the same damn thing but NO ONE got in trouble for that. Basically, they thought this would affect their paychecks…something that no artist should worry about if you’re the biggest band in the world.
  • Lars Ulrich.
  • Lars Ulrich.
  • Lars Ulrich.

There’s more to add to this, but I can’t think straight. Too mad at Lars Ulrich… 

6:14pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/ZPpSjxCPtCJH
(Notes: 2)
  
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