mark schwaber

2 brand new songs available now!

2011-05-09T09:44:00.002-04:00

Hi all,

I know it's been awhile. Since I have written anything here, and since I have had any new music for you to hear. Well. Let's kill two birds, shall we? I have two new songs available now on cdbaby.com.

"To Be Better" www.cdbaby.com/markschwaber1

"Revelation Day One" www.cdbaby.com/markschwaber12

They are only 99 cents each, won't you please check them out?

Big things on the horizon. Lots more touring with Lloyd Cole. We just returned from seven weeks in Europe and will embark on one leg of our US tour starting in June. I also plan on getting a home studio together this month. Turned out there just wasn't enough time in January before we left for Australia and New Zealand. Also getting ready to start a few different musical projects. No rest for the dreary.

Hope all is well with you all.

Stay tuned...

2011.

2010-12-27T14:01:00.007-05:00

I wonder why it is that we, as New Englanders, suddenly acted like Texans in response to this Nor'easter. It was pretty obvious from the barometric pressure charts that we weren't really due for much of a snowfall. Yet it seemed that people talked about how they were boarding up their windows and stocking up on canned goods as if it were 12/22/12. But it does come with its perks. My wife had herself an official snow day, and we're proud to announce that we've fully taken advantage of it. Nothing like a half day on the couch, complete with tea, Great homemade turkey soup, bad movies and very happy (yet slightly confused) dog. Scooter just can't figure out why we've all been together in the same place for close to 72 hours. Not that he's complaining.

So the holiday season is finally over. Well, I don't really count rookie night on the 31st. So it's time for many things. Here's a short list.

1) Building a home studio with producer/musician wizard Rob Connelly.
2) Painting our bedroom, walk in closet, and upstairs bathroom. Finally.
3) Quitting smoking (?!). I seem to be down to about 10 a day. Down from 20+, that is. Crossing my fingers on that one.
4) Getting back to the gym at least 4 times a week. Something that I haven't done since October.
5) Prepping mentally and financially for a LONG six months of touring with Lloyd Cole and The Small Ensemble.
6) Recording and releasing (digitally) as many songs as I can get done through January. Seems like the perfect month for it. Would love to sell as much as possible. Would you buy individual songs for 99 cents? I mean, if they don't suck?
7) Spending as much time with friends as possible. I sense many a dinner gatherings at our house to start the new year.
8) Cashing in on a couple of gift cards to the movie theater.
9) Playing NBA 2K11 as the Springfield Armor for a full season.
10) Play guitar. Lots and lots of guitar.

Not so bad, I suppose. For one month.

I am curious, what do you plan on doing during the January bore-fest?

The Small Ensemble heads back to oui.

2010-12-23T21:55:00.008-05:00

Looks like we get to see more of France this Spring. Dates just in for The Small Ensemble. Many, many more to come. To the tune of 5 more weeks on top of this. Ballpark. I have heard some countries thrown around, but I don't want to throw them out there just in case it's incorrect. But as soon as I know, I promise to post them on here. As you can see, these dates are already on sale! Just for the record, I can't wait to see Nice.

Wed 23-Mar France, Nancy, L'Autre Canal
http://www.livenation.fr/event/23408/lloyd-cole-small-ensemble-tickets

Fri 25-Mar France, Tours, Escal
http://www.livenation.fr/event/23024/lloyd-cole-small-ensemble-tickets

Sat 26-Mar France, Nantes, Onyx
http://www.livenation.fr/event/23025/lloyd-cole-small-ensemble-tickets

Sun 27-Mar France, Rennes, Etage
http://www.livenation.fr/event/23027/lloyd-cole-small-ensemble-tickets

Tue 29-Mar France, Lyon, Salle Moliere
http://www.livenation.fr/event/23220/lloyd-cole-small-ensemble-tickets

Wed 30-Mar France, Toulouse, Bikini
http://www.livenation.fr/event/22975/lloyd-cole-small-ensemble-tickets

Thu 31-Mar France, Bourdeaux, Rocher de Palmer
http://www.livenation.fr/event/23221/lloyd-cole-small-ensemble-tickets

Sat 2-Apr France, Nice, Salle Grappelli
http://www.livenation.fr/event/23057/lloyd-cole-small-ensemble-tickets

All photos by Laura Patterson of Fresh Photography. Live at Glee - Nottingham, England. Please give credit if you use them elsewhere. Cheers!

Shiny pictures for the Holidays

2010-12-23T10:00:00.008-05:00

The Town? Highly recommended. I am shocked that Affleck can step away from his usual hideousness long enough to direct and star in this throwback, inner-city thriller in the vein of 1990's widely ignored State of Grace. Sure, it's silly. And most certainly not flawless. But for those of you longing for this genre to make a comeback (I really thought that 2007's We Own the Night was going to do just that, but nope) let's hope that this can kick start a whole new batch of smart, tough thrillers. And no, I don't want to hear anyone ask "What about The Departed?". If you need to ask that then you need to go back and listen to Nicholson's magical Boston accent. And by magical I mean that it keeps disappearing and reappearing like some sort of Copperfield cast off. Which was one of its very many unappealing aspects. As a matter of fact, Alec Baldwin was the only person that justified my admission.

If nothing else, The Town should at least allow us to see more of Jeremy Renner (whose break out party was in the Oscar nominated The Hurt Locker back in '08). Renner should not only get more work, but if he doesn't get a best supporting nod for his role in The Town then heads should roll. And he should be in charge of rolling them. His character means even more to us folk from Western Massachusetts that have met this guy in real life, a few too many times.

It's seems like it has been a few years (yep, it has) since there has been a ration of films out at the same time that actually appeal to me. Excited to see The Fighter, True Grit (great poster!), Black Swan (my great friends Niko Tavernise and Rob Connelly worked on this!), The Inside Job and The King's Speech.

I'll let you know how I feel about them one by one. Well, if Santa brings me that gift certificate that he usually brings me.

Not the worst idea

2010-12-22T12:41:00.008-05:00

Maybe it's not the worst idea to write here everyday. Even if I have nothing to say. Which is definitely most days. Like today. I've been doing nothing but buying (then wrapping) presents, watching movies on the couch with Scooter (and then my wife at night), trying to save as much money as possible by not leaving the house (a plan that I will keep for all of January) and playing guitar. The kind of shit that would make the most insipid of facebook users salivate. Just imagine how many status updates you could have with inane events like this.

"I want it to snow before Christmas."

"I just had 3 cookies that my son and his friend made."

"We just got a new bookcase."

And on and on. Feel free to pillage any of the above for use in your very own profile. I am such an asshole.

The Small Ensemble is going to New Zealand and Australia in February.

Thu 3-Feb New Zealand, Dunedin, Glenroy Auditorium
Fri 4-Feb New Zealand, Christchurch, Isaac Theatre Royal
Sat 5-Feb New Zealand, Auckland, Mercury
Sun 6-Feb
Mon 7-Feb New Zealand, Wellington, Paramount Theatre
Tue 8-Feb New Zealand, Napier, The Cabana
Wed 9-Feb
Thu 10-Feb Australia, Brisbane, Old Museum
Fri 11-Feb Australia, Sydney, Enmore Theatre
Sat 12-Feb Australia, Melbourne, Thornbury Theatre
Sun 13-Feb Australia, Melbourne, Thornbury Theatre
Mon 14-Feb option for 3rd show
Tue 15-Feb
Wed 16-Feb Australia, Adelaide, The Gov
Thu 17-Feb Australia, Perth, Becks Music Box - Perth International Arts Festival

Rob and I are going to build a home studio in my office in January. So I can finally get back to recording my own stuff. Thinking of trying to release as much stuff as possible in 2011. Even if it is just rough, unadulterated tracks from home.

The Spurs are 24-3.

The Giants only need 1 win to lock up a playoff spot.

The Sox have signed Gonzalez, Crawford, Jenks and Wheeler.

In 2010 I took my first ever flight (which then turned into 11 within 3 months), visited and performed in 8 different countries in Europe, played shows in Pittsburgh Cleveland Detroit and Chicago, got a grant for work on our house and Jen and I got to get away to the Cape. Here's to hoping that 2011 is a bright as 2010 was. From the shape of things on the previous list (Australia, New Zealand, music and sports), it ain't looking too bad.

So yeah, I guess I'll try to write a little something everyday. I know I've said that before, but what the hell. Let's give it another go.

Hope you are all well,

M

Lloyd Cole Small Ensemble tour Day 4 - The Magic Bag - Detroit, MI (1/28/10)

2010-02-07T13:09:00.017-05:00

This early morning load out was a bit whiter than the others. There was already at least an inch or two on the roads outside our hotel. And there were almost complete white out conditions in the air. 40mph wind gusts turned snow into blankets. I was grateful that everyone wanted me to drive. It was my van for one, and I am a hideously nervous passenger in inclimate weather. Heart palpitations and such. We were all worried that we wouldn't arrive in Detroit until load in time which means

1) No relaxing meal or downtime of any sort
and
2) We wouldn't be able to check into our hotel until 1AM.

Well, someone in our company was obviously owed by the karma police. As I turned the ignition in the van the sun appeared and the snow just flat out stopped. What had Oakes and I nearly blowing down the street only moments before, just upped and left. It was a blessing in disguise and we were able to make it to the beautiful and sleek Westin Hotel at our planned time of 2PM.

It was a combination of general wear and tear, a little bit of earlier stress from wondering if we were going to have to go 25mph from Cleveland to Detroit that led us all to the restaurant in the hotel for some Americana lunch. We all then agreed that it was time to just hit our rooms and rest up for the hour or so that we had before load out. Oakes and I shared a room each night, and during this break we were just flipping through the tube and landed on some hideous looking film that would just provide sonic wallpaper for our heavy eyes. It was called PS I Love You and it starred Hilary Swank and that 300 guy. The only reason I mention it is the song during the opening credits was Camera Obscura's "Lloyd, I'm ready to be heartbroken".

A song these Scottish indie-popsters wrote in direct response to "Are you ready to be heartbroken".

Alanis would call this "irony". And again, she'd be wrong.

The Magic Bag in Ferndale was only a fifteen minute drive from our hotel and we arrived right on time. Terry (the clubs in house soundman) was there to greet us and we were loaded in and set up within no more than 15 minutes. We were really starting to get this down. Here's what the Magic Bag looks like from stage.

And this during Mr. Cole's soundcheck...

Nice place! Turns out that the show sold out as well. Which was exciting to hear. After soundcheck we had about an hour or so before stage call. Matty and Oakes tried to figure out the score in the "That's what she said" game. I believe it was 9-6, Cullen at this point.

Lloyd adjourned to the balcony where the soundboard was. It was warm up there and he was really fighting not feeling well. Oakes and I ran out to an Irish pub that was no more than a block away. We smoked our cigarettes in the freezing cold evening air only to walk into the pub and find ashtrays on the bar. Matty joined us after finishing up some battery checking back at the club. We sat and chewed the fat while listening to Radiohead and The Pixies on the pub stereo. I think there was some B-52's on there too. However, as fast as we got there, it was time to go back for the show.

We got ready in our punk rock dressing room. I had a brief chance to listen to a couple of Lloyd's solo songs before we all went on. I'll tell ya, the guy could barely talk all day because his voice was so shot from the cold that he had. And he walks up there, plugs in and absolutely kills it. I really don't know how he does it. Quite impressive.

We all took the stage to a very receptive audience, including a bunch of people in the SRO section right in front of the stage that were singing along to every word. Man, his fans are great. We played a fun set and did all the running around we had to do after the show and then finally had a chance to meet a bunch of folks. Once again, everyone we got to talk to was completely welcoming and incredibly kind and friendly. We even met a few people that were at the show in Cleveland the night before. That's a cool feeling. There are three videos of us from this show. First one is set opener "No Blue Skies". Followed by a solo version of "Rattlesnakes" and finished with a short clip of "Why I Love Country Music". Check 'em out.

Can't wait to get back to The Bag!

That's what...ahhh, you get it.

We got back to the hotel around 1AM and we all immediately parted ways because we had a pretty early get-outta-dodge call in the morning. The drive to Chicago was a little longer than the other two, and Oakes had to catch a train. Had a great time in Detroit Folk City!

On to Chicago.

Stay tuned!

Lloyd Cole Small Ensemble tour Day 3 - The Winchester - Cleveland, OH (1/27/10)

2010-02-04T12:58:00.019-05:00

Another yogurt, banana and glass of OJ are staring at me. It's 8:30AM and Matty just pulled the van around front. Six guitars, two banjos, a mandolin, several bags of gear and clothes and all five of us somehow fit pretty well in my labored '96 Plymouth. Lloyd is at the wheel. Dan as his navigator. Matty, Oakes and I settle into the back bench for the trip to Cleveland. The three of us in the back are sad to be leaving Pittsburgh, we had such an unexpected good time in that city. But we're all equally excited to play again tonight in Cleveland.

Thanks to the glories of modern technology, Oakes whips out his portable DVD player (that's what she said) and the three of us nuzzle up to a few episodes of season 2 of The Office. Before we know it, there is a gigantic billboard of Lebron James in his grandest Jesus pose. We waved hello to Jacob's Field (actually, it has a new name now and none of us knew when that happened) and lo and behold, Lloyd has driven us to the hotel. We were staying at The Renaissance in downtown Cleveland.

We were all stunned with the magnitude of the place. For instance, this is what we walked into...

Sure was a long way from sleeping on some guys floor that you met at the show. With your head in a pizza box and bong water spilled at your feet.

We loaded in, checked in and took a scant few minutes to gather our thoughts before we were downstairs having dinner at Sans Souci in the Hotel.

I had an excellent tortilla soup for starters and a grilled swordfish salad with fresh arugula, chopped red onion, yellow pepper and roasted grape tomatoes. So good. Lloyd, Dan and Matty wanted to catch a little downtime after lunch and before load out so Oakes and I decided to peruse the mall that was connected to the hotel. We had a moment of thinking that we might be able to squeeze in a movie, but we were just barely too late to go to anything that would get us to the lobby on time. So we settled for this photo booth.

Yup. The original plan was for me to leave this on Lloyd's music stand before the encore. But I forgot. So I handed it to a random fan that was waiting in line for an autograph and asked him to ask Lloyd to sign it. Best part is, Lloyd actually signed it. Brian's got that copy.

I snagged a gag gift for Jen in a sports store (I had the goal of getting her some random souvenirs in every city that we were in). And it was back to the hotel to crap out for an hour. Speaking of crap, look at how big our bathroom was.

Another load out about an hour later and we were on our way to the gig. We were playing at The Winchester. It was only a few miles from our hotel. No more than a 15 minute drive. We arrived at 5PM. We were instantly greeted by Rebbecca. She was the multi-tasker of the night. Bartender, host, server. She was incredibly nice and went well out of her way to make sure we had everything we needed. The owner of the club was equally as welcoming. Jim, I think? Shit, I hate forgetting people's names. But I do it all the time. Anyway, their club was really nice too.

The dressing room was a little small, but it had a great collection of posters. For some reason, I just love this photo.

I really like the blue wall, for starters. And there's just something about the juxtaposition of the giant Chicago poster, Lloyd and an iphone. Sounds like the start of a joke. Lloyd Cole, an iphone and a giant Chicago poster walk into a bar. That's what she said.

Can suits rock? Matty thinks so. And I agree.

We had a great night playing. The crowd was receptive and warm and the people that we met after the show couldn't have been nicer. The only thing that ruined the night was the opening act. A self proclaimed "master of metal on mandolin". He called himself Pegasus Vending. I took this photo of him during his take on Shadows Fall's "Crushing Belial".

What a douche.

But in all seriousness, if you want to relive some of the night there are some videos from Dan (who came all the way up from Florida with his wife for the show!) that you can watch by clicking here! There's even a sneak peak at a song from our forthcoming record on there. Thanks for everything Dan! Send Dan a nice message if you watch some of the clips, cause he's a heck of a nice guy.

We ended the night listening to the Louvin Brothers and various other country acts on the XM Bob Dylan radio show. Just the five of us and Jim and Rebbecca. Such nice folks. But alas, it was back to the hotel where I nearly ruptured Oakes' spleen by making him laugh. I wish I could share the joke, but I don't really think I should. Maybe if you really want to know...

Off to Detroit tomorrow.

Stay tuned.

Lloyd Cole Small Ensemble tour Day 2 - Club Cafe - Pittsburgh, PA (1/26/10)

2010-02-03T10:43:00.014-05:00

At 9AM I found myself standing in front of the breakfast bar in the hotel lobby. Pleasantly rested and ready to kill this yogurt, banana and orange juice. We received a complimentary USA today (why does anyone buy that paper?) that I flipped through at lightning speed. I remember reading something about Tim Tebow's mother. And during the Super Bowl, he is doing an ad for some pro-life outfit. Maybe that means that he'll squeeze a couple more touchdowns out of Jesus when he gets to the NFL. Pardon the sarcasm. Actually, wait. No. Don't.

Dan Dryden (Philip Glass' sound man of nearly 30 years) arrived safely from his home in NYC and checked in. Brian, Matt and I had a handful of hours to ourselves before load in so we decided to go check out the Warhol museum and PNC park. To our excitement, we learned that the hotel's shuttle service would drive us there for free. We were picked up by Mr. Chip. A little guy, that we could tell was loaded with Pittsburgh history. On our drive over we noticed a woman holding a cardboard sign outside of a city building. There were a few people gathered around. Upon inquiring with Mr. Chip we learned that fairly recently a African American student with dredlocks was beaten within an inch of his life by 3 plain clothes cops. They thought that the 20 oz. Mountain Dew bottle in his pocket was a gun. Whoops. As we drove by the woman with the sign, we finally got a look at what it said. In bold, magic marker letters it read "FUCK YOU PIGS!". We all know that there are alot of good cops out there, but as far as this goes? Fair enough.

Mr. Chip dropped us at the door of the Warhol museum. We had a few hours before lobby call so we didn't feel rushed. There was a Shepard Fairey exhibit throughout the museum which was fun for me. I remember being in NYC in '89 and '90 and seeing those Andre Has A Posse stickers popping up everywhere in the village. He's come a long way since. Even designing the now infamous Obama:Hope poster that was everywhere. I was never much of a Warhol guy. I mean, I had a great appreciation for him for his role in contemporary pop art, but I was never really intrigued by his work. This visit changed that. I still don't really get the urinating-on-a-canvas thing amongst a handful of other pieces. But as a whole, the museum really helped me realize how important he was as not only an artist, but as a politician in some sense. He really helped force a new identity upon what was seen as taboo in this country.

One small pack of refrigerator magnets from the museum later, we were around the corner and down the street to PNC park. Being an avid baseball fan, I have heard from more than a few people that PNC is one of the nicest, if not the nicest park in the MLB. Well, if it's not the nicest, there sure is an argument to be made for it. Sitting at the convergence of the three rivers, you'll be hard pressed to find a prettier view at any park with the exception of the park in San Francisco. We were greeted by huge statues of Willie Stargell and one of my personal heroes, Roberto Clemente.

My brother has been a Pirates fan his whole life, and being a Sox fan, I always found myself rooting for the Pirates as my favorite NL team. Nepotism is a bitch though, for the Pirates haven't had a winning season since the invention of steel. There is a certain charm in that though. The game is almost more pure that way. Without the fair weather fans and whatnot. It's just baseball. For baseball fans. I'll tell ya, I already liked the Pirates before this visit. And now it's safe to say that I love them. Can't wait to go to a game there next year.

Mr. Chip was as prompt as could be (he even ran an extra errand for Matt and sang him a tune on the way!) as we made our way back to go grab a bite to eat (a Lebanese restaurant where I had a excellent falafel sandwich!). And then back to the hotel to start loading the van. We loaded into Club Cafe at 3:30 and immediately went to work. It was great to see Dan again. He came out to do sound for us at our warm up gig at The Brass Cat. And that guy knows his way around a soundboard like nobody's business.

There was a great second floor dressing area that had two separate rooms and a full bath. Everything seemed to be in place. Matty, Brian and I ran down the street to a sports bar and got a pre-show snack. When we returned to the club we met Doug Seymour, who has done work with Lloyd before with the Folksinger series CD's. He is an amazing photographer who has worked with some pretty heavy hitters. Most importantly, he was a hell of a nice guy. He snapped a bunch of photos of us and even a video. This was the last song of our set. And you can hear from the video that the crowd in Pittsburgh was really excited all night long. Hooting and hollering along at all the right times. Click here to see and hear "Lost Weekend".

We had a great time playing, and after the show we met some really nice people. After the meet and greet Dan and Lloyd went back to the hotel. Dan was a little beat from the trip and Lloyd officially seemed to be getting sick. Matty, Brian, Doug and I went back to the bar that we promised to return to. The bartender from the night before wasn't working, but the guy that was heard that we were coming in. What great people. Damn, I wish I could remember the name of the place. Something with a K. On the same street as Club Cafe. I think?

A great time was had. We saw great things, shared great laughs, played a great show. It was official. We might be pretty good at this.

That's what she said.

Off to Cleveland in the morning. Stay tuned!

Lloyd Cole Small Ensemble tour Day 1 - Traveling to Pittsburgh (1/25/10)

2010-02-02T16:34:00.011-05:00

It was 8:30AM on Monday, January 25th, 2010 and the big blue van turned over on a dime. Regardless of the subfreezing temperature that acted like a nuanced taunt. I swear I could hear the wind whisper "You think it's cold now?". Knowing that we were about to drive along the Great Lakes for hundreds of miles. But first it was off to pick up Matt Cullen (guitar/banjo), Lloyd Cole and Brian Oakes (a close friend of ours that helped out on the whole trip in numerous ways). We were packed and on the road minutes before 9AM. Pittsburgh, here we come.

We made a pretty long drive (through some really horrible rain and wind) go by very quickly. Thanks, in large part, to a game that Lloyd introduced us to called "Botticelli". A game where three of you (you can play it with as many or as few people that you wish) are detectives who are trying to hunt down the famous person hiding in the gray matter of the fourth's head. Montel Williams was deemed the most difficult to get on that first day. And thanks to the length of the game, it essentially took us directly to the three rivers. We arrived in Pittsburgh somewhere in the vicinity of 7:30. We checked into our downtown hotel, and around 8 we were out to look at the venue, and more importantly, out to find food. We were playing at a place called Club Cafe and the people there were very kind and let us poke our heads in the door as there was a band on stage, just to check out the feel and size of the room. Lloyd had been to Pittsburgh recently, but Matty hadn't been there in 15 years and Brian and I had never been before. Each of us felt an immediate great vibe from the city. We had heard how it had quickly turned into one of the cooler cities in the East and that is most certainly the truth. People said hello to strangers on the street and there was a real big town feel to it rather than that of a big city feel. We left the club and headed out in search of Nakama. It was very easy to find and it turned out to be the best hibachi restaurant I have ever been to. The grilled vegetables, mushroom miso soup and the grilled sesame chicken were of another planet. The other fellas equally enjoyed their food. Highly recommended if you're ever in Pitt.

We walked back towards our hotel (Pittsburgh was the only city we played where the hotel was within walking distance of the venue) and stopped by a hole in the wall pub that was the perfect place for us. There was hardly anyone there and it had a real blue collar feel to it. And there were ashtrays on the bar! Something that made Brian and I really happy. Lloyd and Matty? Not so much. The bartender was extremely friendly and when he found out what we were doing in town he threw us a bunch of free drink coins for the following night. We promised him we'd be back the next night.

Back to the hotel. Our abs had a substantial work out all day thanks to the endless hours of laughter. My recent obsession with the the television show The Office (US) led to numerous "That's what she said" jokes that were both raunchy and mostly, completely obtuse. Brian, Matt and I had plans to head to the Warhol museum and PNC park in the morning. Lloyd was starting to feel a bit under the weather and was planning on hanging in and waiting for our amazing sound man, Dan Dryden who was flying in from NYC in the morning.

Pictures, videos and stories about all of our days and shows to come very soon.

That's what she said.

Lloyd Cole and the Small Ensemble hits the road and makes a live record!

2010-01-23T15:13:00.006-05:00

This is a blank sheet of screen. Sorry for my vapid promise to write more. I always have the best intentions with these types of things, but it's easy to let other things take over. And for me, once I stop writing I find it really hard to go back to it. Basically, writing is the closet that I've never cleaned. Unless I am forced, it's going to be hit or miss.

Figured this might be a good time to scribble again. About to leave for 7 days to play 4 shows with Lloyd Cole and the Small Ensemble. We're playing in Pittsburgh, Cleveland, Detroit and Chicago. The actual places and times can be found on that link to Lloyd's site. We also recorded a live record at Slaughterhouse Studios, which will be available at these shows, and at some point, on the aforementioned website.

The band is a 3 piece (Lloyd, Matt Cullen and myself) and we are traveling with an amazing soundman named Dan and a good friend of all of ours, Brian. Not sure if we will have a laptop on the tour. If so, I'll be posting daily. If not, I will get after it when we get back. Should be great fun.

Type you all soon!

Congrats to the admiral.

2009-09-11T12:28:00.004-04:00

Congrats to the truest gentleman to ever play the game. Thanks for giving me years of enjoyment in my little world that is 1500 miles away from all your fans. You always played the game the right way, and set an incredible example for everyone around you. You're the best...

...and I kinda secretly need to ask you a favor. Can you throw all that nice guy shit out the window for me for just 2 seconds and kick Stockton in the balls for me? I hate that guy...

Things I learned on my summer vacation.

2009-09-10T13:45:00.003-04:00

Things I learned on my summer vacation.

1) Salem pretty much rules. This bookstore (pictured above) and Harrison's comic shop are pretty much the coolest two stores ever. You pay for your books at this bookstore through a six inch break between books that are piled ten feet high. You actually can't see the entire face of the person ringing you up. Part creepy, part complete nerd-cool. And Harrison's comic shop could easily kill four hours of my day at least once a week. And that lady in the picture above? She pretty much rules too.

2) The Red Sox are really boring this year. But they are also kinda funny too. So that makes up for it.

3) Scooter digs his naps more than he did when he was a kid. So do I, for that matter.

4) Lloyd Cole is an amazing songwriter and arranger.

5) Cracking a rib is so not fun. Don't make me laugh.

Open letter to the librarian.

2009-09-08T11:57:00.020-04:00

Dear Eric,

It is only because of things like Facebook that I have any idea that this was even said. And anytime that two of my close friends have any sort of exchange it can be kind of fun. Especially when, as in this case, I was responsible for their introduction to each other. I noticed that you recently posted a response to our friend Abby's status on Facebook. Her post, I believe, was the name of a tennis player that she was cheering for. Your response was, and I quote:

Abby-you know how much I love baseball-but tennis might be THE perfect sport.

Believe it or not, I am not about to go haywire on you. Just the opposite, really.

Golf is great. I have really come to enjoy the sport. I enjoy the completely baffling notions behind it. The ball isn't moving but I only know where it's going 1 out of every 3 times I hit it. I still don't understand how people can be good enough to make the ball spin backwards etc etc. I love the outdoors in the spring, summer and fall. Spending 4 or 5 hours with just a good friend (or 2 or 3) in the green, green sun. I love the fact that you can be competitive but never really piss anyone off with it. Because you should truly only be competitive with yourself in that sport. I love stark white shoes with brown stripes. I like visors. Yes. Visors. I even enjoy watching it on TV from time to time. I hold professional golfers in the highest regard. Do you have to be an athlete to be a golfer? Not really. Athletically inclined? I suppose. But it still takes an incredible amount of dedication and practice to reach their level of expertise.

Tennis is cool. In fact, I could totally learn to love playing that game. I dig the raw elements of it. Dirt. Sweat. It's a primal workout in alot of ways. And it does take a massive amount of stamina, coordination and serious athletic ability. It's competitiveness can also be self contained more than some other sports. Most days I am sure that your biggest enemy in tennis isn't the person on the other side of the net, but more the little person in your head. And, like golf, it has stupid outfits that are fun. Headbands. All white at Wimbledon. I admittedly don't 'get' tennis like you do. But that's completely fine. I definitely give you tennis all day long. No sarcasm there. I would hope that you would give me golf for the same reason.

However. There is one reason and one reason alone that baseball is the only perfect sport. Just one reason. Hold on to your racket here.

Comedy.

Yes, there are funny moments in tennis and golf. John McEnroe's courtside fits. John Daley's smoke dangling from his mouth while he putts. And sometimes these guys/gals even say funny things. And in the NFL you have the brilliant comedy of people like Plaxico shooting himself in the leg and Leon Lett storing half of Cuba in his ass. The NBA, as we both know, lends itself to more funny moments than any of these aforementioned sports. Stephen Jackson and Ron Artest are the best examples. But it's truly more Porky's than it is Royal Tennenbaums. I am sure that you could tell me quite a few funny stories about the NHL (a sport that I very admittedly know next to nothing about). But there is nothing like the humor in baseball.

Sure, we all have these stories. Stories of legend and emotion and histrionics. I wept in my Father's arms when the Sox won it all in '04. And you wept in his arms the day the trophy made its way into our very own Brass Cat backyard. We have shared all of the rage, blinding anger and fury that only the Yankees can bring. We have experienced the nearly excruciating excitement when one of us stops and says The wolves are gathering...the wolves are gathering. We've endured soul pummeling losses and the simple and quick elation of the walk off home run. And of course, there's the game itself. So simple. So complex. So painfully slow. So explosively fast. Like a stand off at gun point. Serene, vast and peaceful. Loud, small and devastating. And we all know that it's the most difficult thing to do in all of sport. Having a bat, that small in circumference, hit a ball that small at a rate of speed between 65 and 100 miles an hour without knowing which speed or which way the ball will break. Being able to stab that ball without any more than a fraction of a second to react. Being able to throw that ball by one of the most skilled hitters on earth. Running the bases quickly and well. We all know that it is, quite literally, the most complicated sport there is from a mental stand point. Mickey Mantle once said "It's unbelievable how much you don't know about the game you've been playing all your life." And it's pitch perfect. It's the grandest of theater. Ever morphing and bizarre. Even when the teams are as boring as the '09 Red Sox, it is still the most entertaining drama on TV.

But...

Given all of those things, the one thing that still makes baseball the perfect sport is comedy. As aforementioned, there are funny moments in other sports. But in baseball?

Chapter One
On the field.

Milton Bradley catching a routine flyball and then striking a pose for the crowd before he threw the ball into the stands with only two outs. Or the pitcher who just last week rolled a ball to the dugout expecting a new one from the ump who never gave him one, allowing a run to score. Who can ever forget Manny Ramirez (and if there's a comedic bible of baseball to be written, Manny would get his own section) diving to cut off a ball thrown from center? Or listening to his Ipod during an inning. Or not being able to zip his pants fast enough and barely make it out of the monster in time for the first pitch of the inning. Back to back walk off home runs by Jeff Frye and Darren Lewis. Did that really just happen? Izzy Alcantra's best Bruce Lee imitation to that AAA catcher's chest (and then what's truly lost in that footage is Izzy charging the mound and then turning to take swings at literally anyone near him. Including his own teammates). Pedro Martinez swinging a bat or flinging a Zimmer. Mark Grace, pitching relief in a blowout doing his best, hilarious imitation of the Diamondbacks then closer, Mike Fetters. Mariano Rivera at the opening day ring ceremony in 2005 received a standing ovation at Fenway and thereby solidifying himself as one of my favorite people ever when he couldn't stop laughing like a 12 year old.

Chapter Two
Off the field.

Where to start?
Ozzie Guillen saying that the Little League World Series teams are better than his White Sox.
Tommy Lasorda's take on catcher Mike Scioscia's wheels "If he raced his pregnant wife he'd come in 3rd."
Or Leo Durocher's classic "God watches over drunks and third baseman."
One of the masters, Casey Stengal saying "The trouble is not that players have sex the night before a game. It's that they stay out all night looking for it."
Harry Caray and his glasses once said "What does a mama bear on the pill have in common with the World Series? No cubs."
The legendary Vin Scully on Andre Dawson "He has a bruised knee and is listed as day-to-day. Aren't we all?"
Dizzy Dean speaking about his head injury "The doctors x-rayed my head and found nothing."
Or reliever Lefty Gomez' worries "A lot of things run through your head when you're going in to relieve in a tight spot. One of them was, 'Should I spike myself?'"
Of all the Bill Lee gems, this one best sums him up "I think about the cosmic snowball theory. A few million years from now the sun will burn out and lose its gravitational pull. The earth will turn into a giant snowball and be hurled through space. When that happens it won't matter if I get this guy out."
Roger Craig on catcher Choo Choo Coleman's smarts "He would give you the sign, then look down to see what it was."
And my all time favorite, when Yogi Berra once failed a high school science test with the score of 23 his teacher asked him "Yogi, don't you know anything?" His response? "Sir, I don't even suspect anything."

Chapter Three
Amongst friends.

In America, and I suspect that New England is the hub of this, there is no sport that will continually make a set of friends gathered at the local watering hole, or in a living room, laugh as continually and as hard as baseball does. Just think of the times where you and I have almost had to have stomach surgery because of this game. Just last week, King Hewsie yelling "Can't throw a curveball from your knees, bitch!" at Pena's kid warming in the bullpen. Or my Dad turning to one of several hundred people and saying "I've forgotten more about baseball than you'll ever know." Or Toonz once pontificating on Craig Grbek's DL status "I'm pretty sure that he's not hurt, I think El Guapo ate him." Levels needing an oxygen tank after laughing himself to the floor with the thought of "that old Sox reliever that looked like he had cancer every time he took the mound." Jimy (one m) Williams? Good Lord. That guy made us all laugh for 24 hours a day. Andy Sheets, Morgan Burkhart, Creighton Gubanich, Enrique Iglesias or whatever. I could write about this for 8 hours a day for a month straight and still have tons of moments that I have forgotten about.

Tennis is funny. As is golf, basketball, football, hockey and soccer. No doubt about that. And they are all really fascinating and exciting games in their uniqueness.

But baseball is fucking hilarious. And THAT is what makes it perfect.

Funniest movie ever? No question about it.

The Bad News Bears.

Nuff said.

Love you like a brother.

Yours,

Butch Huskey

Labor Day and the Six Degrees of Facebook.

2009-09-05T12:59:00.003-04:00

So we're off for a couple days. The Mrs. and I are disappearing for a little day and a half 2nd anniversary excursion. She doesn't know where yet. Can't wait.

I will return to writing on Tuesday. I have an idea to start writing completely fictional short stories about 6 random friends on facebook. You know how it always shows 6 random photos of your selected friends on the lower left hand corner of your page? Well, I was thinking of taking whomever that may be on any given day and write an intertwining fictional piece. If I started today, for instance, the story would contain a best friend from back in the day, a musical comrade of current times, my first girlfriend's college roommate, one of my oldest friend's Dad and two people that I don't really know much about. Could be fun. Think I'll call it "6 degrees of Facebook." Yeah, sure. That works I suppose.

Hope you all have a great holiday, and thanks so much for checking in with me!

Waxing children, wet feet and the power of Arby's.

2009-09-03T14:12:00.020-04:00

I was walking barefoot down the damp sidewalk outside of the old Rt. 20 home of Platterpus Records. I never walk barefoot anywhere other than in my house. And even that doesn't happen very often. I arrived only to find out that it was closed. Scooter was with me. But not on a leash. I was pleased to see that the Rite Aid was still there. I was dying for a snack. I noticed that my feet were slightly damp from the sidewalk. The sky was an ominous gray, but it wasn't raining. Still there was the overwhelming feel of wet. The kind that you can smell. Scoot and I shuffled into the fifty by fifty foot Rite Aid that only seemed to sell diapers and other plastic, sealed items that were anything but edible. There was a soft pink/yellow hue just behind the first racks of less than desirables. So I told Scoot to wait there while I checked to see if there were any food products in back. There's never actual food in places like that. Just food products. As I rounded the corner I noticed three men in doctors shawls. Facing away from me. Their heads down towards their patients. Concentrating. They each had dark hair and white robes to the knees. I could see the legs of what appeared to be very young children on all three lily white space age tables. It was as if these little legs jettisoned from the doctors stomachs like some languid version of the film Alien. The doctors were all moving very slowly. At the counter, to the left, stood two women. They were perfect looking. And by perfect I don't mean attractive. They looked like flyer models. Not Victoria Secret. More like Sears. One was handing a brochure to a man who was very shiny and also perfect looking. He was probably from the Marshalls weekly. Turns out that the back of the Rite Aid had turned into a place for body waxing for toddlers. Of course it did. Three bored mothers sat in waiting chairs flipping through magazines while their six year olds were having their bodies waxed. I was hardly surprised to see the shallowness of Hollywood making its way to Wastefield, MA. I can only assume that body waxing six year olds is more common than baptisms in LA. I told Scooter to stay inside and wait while I continued to search for food.

I was hoping like fuck that no one would wax him.

In the parking lot outside of the Rite Aid sat a twenty five foot high, bright yellow vehicle. The windshield was no more than an average length and height, but it sat at the very top of the vehicle's giant frame. The front end moved sharp and distinctly to a triangular point at the ground. It resembled an oversized Boba Fett helmet painted the most vain of yellows that I had ever seen. Even in the gray murk of the wet sky. A window opened from far above and Lesa Beso leaned out. She already knew I was about to ask for food. She simply pointed down the road towards the bridge and said

You're never going to believe what's over there. Finger pointing due East.

Really? What is it?

You'll see. She answered. I could see Henning in the passenger seat. He was reading something.

I took no more than two steps to my right and there was Miranda Brown. Her hair was shorter and kinda hip-ly greasy. And it was much darker than I had ever seen it.

I'm wicked psyched. She said without the slightest sign of being so. I am fucking starved. It was obvious to me at that point that Miranda had moved from Austin, TX to somewhere in shithole Jersey. And she had been there for quite some time.

Whoa! When did that get there? I asked Miranda.

Standing in front of us, just across the street where there used to be a Roy Rogers there was a brand new Arby's. But this was no ordinary Arby's. It was at least twice the size of your average Arby's. It was encased in ground to ceiling pillars. The entire building was painted a bland yellow/brown earth tone. The lights inside were dim. A giant, script-printed sign bearing the name of the restaurant hung alone in a deep green pool against the yellow/brown castle. A stark beam of sunlight hit the top third of the building. Wastefield's new Mecca.

I just drove by here last week to play golf with my Dad and that wasn't here. I announced to no one, really.

There was drool. I could feel it. I rolled slightly to my left and my ribs screamed at me for a second. I grazed the side of my lip with my right hand to clean the spittle from my mouth.

I was now on the top step of my parents basement. I closed the cellar door behind me and was greeted by a fake elbow punch to the stomach by JJ O'Connell. I stood for a moment, somewhat unsure.

He laughed. Oh relax! It's not that fucking bad.

I felt my whole soul relax.

C'mon. Spouse is playing up here tonight.

I followed him into an attic room in my parents house that doesn't exist. There was a round table in the middle of the room. There were three people seated at it. Jose Ayerve and a guitar. Abby Barlow. And one other woman that I can't seem to recall. I sat down at the table and took in the room. It was littered with an old rock/folk club vibe. Somewhere between Bruce Tull's old haunt on Woodmont and CBGB's. There were nameless show flyers covering the walls. Ashtrays and old beer cans covering the table. Cables and amps and guitars covering the floor. Abby and the other woman I can't recall were talking. Jose was encased in a lucite tee-pee. It was half Boy-in-the-bubble and half Cindy Crawford Designs presents See-Through-Bed-Sheets. He began to play an announced "new song." I looked away from him for a moment to find that Abby was gone, but there were several photos of her still on the table. A framed 5x7. A couple of cut out high school photos and some old Hospital news clippings. Peter Davies was now talking with the woman I can't recall. He was showing her pictures of Abby. He had one of them that he had ripped and placed around his left ear like we used to do with 45's when we were kids.

Everyone starting singing along with Jose and his new song. Jose seemed to be donning a tattoo on his left arm that was barely visible due to the tacky white silk shirt he was wearing. And it was hard to see things too clearly from the outside of his Cindy Crawford/Boy-in-the-bubble cave. The song was so lucid. So deeply arranged and produced. There were several more instruments audible but oddly there was only the one guitar. The song itself was pretty bad. I remember wondering if this might be the first time I had heard Jose write a bad song. He kept singing the same refrain over and over again.

Release me...release me...release me...

More drool. From the other side this time. Jen is up. Maybe I should get up too. And maybe I should remember to dream more often.

NEW BLOG!

2006-11-20T13:22:00.000-05:00

Hi all,
I really appreciate the hell out of everyone that has supported this site for so long. I was recently picked up by masslive to write for them. Therefor, this site is probably going to take a backseat. The only differences between the new blog and this one is the lack of swearing. Which is probably a good thing. So if you wish to continue reading please click on this :

http://feedback.blogs.masslive.com

Word.

twinkie and a flashlight

2006-10-12T16:01:00.000-04:00

Friday, Oct. 20th 2006
8PM

PACE

www.pioneerarts.org

MARK SCHWABER with ROB CONNELLY and JOSHUA CHURCHILL (formerly known as home.)
with
STEPHEN BRODSKY of CAVE IN
and
OWEIHOPS

$5 in advance at Night Owl Records
www.nightowlrecords.net
or $7 at the door.

I had this realization a few weeks ago. It hit me like a ton of bricks. The entire notion of world peace is a completely humanist faux pas. (This is especially crushing for me having been heavily influenced by beauty pageants since I was little.) As animals we are not meant to be entirely peaceful. By nature we are protective, self-indulgent and ambivalent to the all encompassing halo of peace. (Seriously. Relax. Whatever it is you’re worried about is just something that you should be taking prescription meds for. At some point, probably very soon, the earth will swat us away like the bug that we are.) Take what we’ve earned, we fight. Harm our young, we fight. (Give us 3 bottles of Zima and 2 Percosets and we knock down newspaper boxes on Main St. on our way to the bench in the park where we’ll spend the night hoping that the morning won’t bring stifling sunshine and a warm puddle of urine on our Ipod.) Whether it is with fists or words. We are not unlike bears, sharks, crickets, dogs etc etc. It is not in our genetic makeup to be entirely peaceful. I know that as a highly evolved creature (Justin Timberlake), capable of backing our decisions from an intellectual stance, we are much more probable to avoid cruel interactions by looking to our brains to serve us right from wrong. (You would think that it would also afford us the probability detector capable of telling us NOT to drink that 15th beer on a Tuesday.) To help us sway those nasty, adrenalized passions. This may be the case on paper, but it rarely happens. The exception to prove the rule. The rule that we are incapable of really getting along. (Except for American Idol winners. Flawless beings, they are.)

That made me feel better. Made me breathe a little easier. Made me realize that our president and his cohorts are just a bunch of assholes. Terrell Owens, an arrogant schmuck. Every Yankee fan in or surrounding the Bronx, an impish rube. People who use the word “resolve.” Motorcyclists that run their bikes for 10 minutes before driving them away. I guess the closest I (or you) can come to peace is through an inner one. A self imposed cleansing of the conscience. (If you’re going to perform this cleansing yourself I highly recommend using a flashlight and a twinkie. And for God’s sake, please read the instructions first).

You can't see planes

2006-08-28T13:11:00.000-04:00

I went to the movies last week. The girl with the twitch that waits on me most afternoons actually asked me what I was going to see. Our usual interactions are “Would you like the extra large for 11 cents more?” or “Any M+M’s or Raisinetes with that?” I inevitably reply “No thanks.” I see her most every week. Long, dark hair. Very nerdy, like myself except she’s not trying as hard as I do. Her hat is always crooked and she has a notable twitch. I’m told that those kinds of slight facial ticks are related to one of several things. Tourettes. Abuse. Crashing a car through the window of a Denny’s at 4AM. You know.

Anyway, I feel strangely connected to her. She doesn’t really want to be working there. I don’t really want to go to the movies by myself all the time, but I do. I’m an addict. You could produce a movie about a piece of shit that speaks French and slays dragons while simultaneously being a debt collector and I’d go see it. Actually, I already saw that one. It’s called “Wedding Crashers”.

I’ve never talked with her, but I kinda consider her a friend. We interact privately. She’s quiet and seems nice. I’m quiet and don’t. But she threw a whole new step in our relationship the other day. I wasn’t ready for it. What was I going to see? Wait, you really want to know. I can tell. She’s made a breakthrough. I can tell she’s really reaching but I’m too much of a jaded prick to help her with it.

I was so used to her being one of those corporate employees. Where they make you say the same shit every time someone walks up to the counter. “Hello and welcome to Pride.” being one of my favorites. You can see these people programming themselves not only to say this ad nauseum but to keep themselves from biting off their own arm.

Does she like me too? Does she finally recognize me? Or has she been there long enough now that she’s starting to feel a little more comfortable? Could be a little of all those things. I can tell though, this is hard for her. To be socially gracious in general. Not because she isn’t kind. But because something in her doesn’t fire quite right when it comes to being comfortable and confident. I can completely relate.
“World Trade Center”
I wasn’t going to see that movie, so I don’t know why I even said it.
“Oh, it’s really good. I really liked it.”
“Cool. Thanks.”
I went into my movie 10 minutes early so I could listen to Phil Collins’ “Take me home”. For some reason that song sounds fucking amazing in a giant empty theater. Probably not the review that Phil would want, but it does. I was so disappointed in my movie girlfriend telling me that World Trade Center was “Really good.” Not because I’m being the leftist indie-rock judgmental asshole because I’ll gladly go see that movie. I thought about it actually. I thought that every 15 minutes I would jog out of the theater isle decorated with blue cloth walls and dim red lights and into the one playing Snakes On A Plane. Swapping out every 15 minutes. WTC. Snakes On A Plane. One to the other and so forth.

I think I was disappointed in her because I think she gave me a milquetoast response. She says that same thing to everyone, I thought. An extension of the sales pitch. I really thought we were going to the next level, and I’ll be honest. I was scared. But excited. You know what? I’m not just going to sit here and take this bullshit. We HAD something. I knew it would grow and I know deep down somewhere in her, she knew it too. I just can’t let this go. And I need some Twizzlers. I leave my seat with my half eaten nachos, large Coke and New Edition song (Mr. Telephone Man, for the record, sounds fucking amazing no matter what listening environment you’re in) and make a break for the stand. Nervously, I ponder how I’m going to do this. How can I approach her again? After what she’s done to me. There are two people in line in front of me. Two teenagers (the male hitting his girlfriend in the head with a wrapped straw) and some surfer/80’s looking kid. The new Indie Rock, I surmise. Read about it in SPIN. Basically, a threesome of douchewhistles. That would make a great band name. Anyway, “I’m just trying to pass your class, Mr. Hand” is finally done getting his blue Slurpee (a movie theater faux pas) and I’m there. Frozen. Smiling though. It’s hard to smile I’m thinking. It’s almost physical, the pain. She looks at me. Twitches. She always twitches. She’s smiling too. I wonder if she’s fighting it like I am.
“May I have some Twizzlers please?”
“Sure”
No apology. Nothing.
“You can’t see planes crashing into buildings without Twizzlers.”
Just like that, it came out. Shot like a bitter, sarcastic bullet. I’m such an asshole.
“That’s true!” she says, smiling.
She still didn’t get it. She’s just selling this place. We’re done. I can’t believe it’s over. I’m never going to the movies again. Well, until Tuesday.

Cereal says it all.

2006-07-24T15:40:00.000-04:00

Cereal says it all.

Not often do you live in a time where art and entertainment are impacted in such ways as to immortalize a certain performer/writer/musician/athlete/artist. I’ve been lucky enough to watch Michael Jordan perform from start to finish. Manny Ramirez. Roger Clemens. Pedro Martinez. Lucky enough to listen to Elliott Smith. Bad Brains. Read David Eggers. Etc. Last night I went to see Lady In The Water. The new M. Night Shyamalan film. I must admit, first and foremost, that I’m not much of a superfan of the horror genre. Not that I despise it, it’s just normally not my thing. People regularly pan M Night’s films for being too predictable. Which I find hilarious. I know that plenty of people enjoy going to these types of pictures to crown themselves the next Sherlock Holmes. I regularly hear “I figured it out in the first half hour.” Well, good for you. I choose to let myself get lost in the art form and try not to turn it into a project for myself. Most of the people that claim to “figure out” these films are the people that can’t find golf balls in a golf bag. So I guess it’s some sort of reasoning/logic fulfillment that they lack in other aspects of their lives. Or maybe they just enjoy the challenge. Fine. Regardless, it drives me nuts when people use this formula as a benchmark for their review of a film. It’s kind of like saying “I knew the chorus of the song was coming, it was so predictable that it took something away for me.” Knowing the chorus of “Jealous Guy” by John Lennon is coming makes it no less a perfect song. I guess I’m just a fan of letting art cradle me and carry me off.

Lady In The Water officially makes M. Night a monster in my opinion. It is one of the smarmiest, smartest and most beautifully filmed movies I’ve seen in quite some time. He takes the best complicated neurosis of Paul Giamatti (son of former baseball commissioner, and huge Sox fan, A. Bart Giamatti) and pairs it with the stunning subtlety of Bryce Dallas Howard. The rest of the nameless, faceless cast is flawless and wonderfully understated. Well, the insanely talented Jeffrey Wright isn’t nameless but is just as transcendently humorous as his counterparts. It’s also a cinematographers dream. Now, I know nothing about filming a movie but I do appreciate innovative and intrinsically, esthetically pleasing landscapes. This film is loaded with them. Pieces at the start of the film that were shot in moonlight and nothing else. Dark and mysterious? Sure. But more importantly, real. You feel yourself standing in Giamatti’s shoes. There is also a scene that is in a shower where the curtain is used as the centerpiece. Separating the crossword-puzzled interpreter and the guild of conjoined hearts (which happens to be 5 stoners) from the alien mermaid figure in the hotel tub. I’m not making this up. Smart, moving, cryptic and strangely peaceful and uplifting. This is the first piece of art that Hollywood has funded since Eternal Sunshine. M Night Shyamalan is the finest of his peers. Someone that I will refer to in the same breath as Michael Jordan, David Eggers and Elliott Smith when weighing in my opinions of the true greats in entertainment of our generation.

6 in 6

2006-06-14T14:56:00.000-04:00

June 10th 2006 at the Elevens in Northampton, MA

Half way round the world. Well, half way round the year at least. So I figured I’d throw out my favorite records/films of 2006 thusfar. Let’s see what gets bumped by the end of the year.

Sounds

Gnarls Barkley – St. Elsewhere
Flaming Lips – At war with the mystics
Dave Chappelle’s Block Party – Soundtrack
Quasi – When the going gets dark
Shadows Fall – Fallout from the war
Tool – 10,000 days

Sites

V For Vendetta
Dave Chappelle’s Block Party
Match Point
The New World
Munich
Mission Impossible 3

Busy lately. Just finished a mini tour with Matt Bachand of Shadows Fall. Much fun was had. Everyone treated us very well. I had to cancel a handful of shows because of a flare up in my allergies like I haven’t had in over 15 years. I use to get shots for them. Looks like I might have to again. My apologies to those that came out to support us. I feel horrible about cancelling but hopefully we’ll reschedule soon.

My record is getting some great reviews. I’m so thankful. The most recent one is on babysue.com. Here it is:

Mark Schwaber - The Killing Card (CD, Pigeon, Progressive pop)
This is an intriguing album that immediately caught our attention. Mark Schwaber creates uniquely entertaining music from a different perspective. His tunes combine highly melodic thoughtful vocal melodies with abstract musical passages...and the end result is extraordinarily effective. Instead of predictable tunes and cute arrangements, Schwaber writes and records mature, intellectual tunes that are sometimes reminiscent of Sufjan Stevens. There is a wealth of material to take in here. The Killing Card presents sixteen thought provoking compositions that flow by seamlessly...combining classic elements with unpredictable spontaneity. This man is bound to be a major player in the years to come. Cool reflective tracks include "The Pressure It Feeds," "Torture Ground," "Island of the Burning Trees," and "You Are Just Like Me. You Will Never Be Free." Recommended. (Rating: 5++)

You can read the others, as well as buy a copy of my new record “The Killing Card” by clicking here.

Spouse has wrapped up its first round of mixes for its forthcoming record. Wow. This might be my favorite record of theirs/ours yet. Which is big props coming from me, since “Nozomi” essentially changed my musical landscape.

Check out this magazine if you get the chance. My name was in it! Thanks to the great friends in Shadows Fall. You can get a copy here.

Horns!

Please feel free to let me know if you have any records or movies that I left off my shortlist. I’m always game for new sites and sounds.

I promise nothing.

2006-05-08T15:26:00.000-04:00

So I committed the official kiss-of-death foul. I said that I would be writing much more often on this site. As you can tell, that didn’t happen. My apologies. I have, however, been quite busy with many, many things.
The record release show we did at PACE was a huge success. Thanks in large part to several different folks. The Yucky Octopus guys and their fashion show were absolutely amazing. Chris (the band’s keyboardist/vocalist) really has a vision that seems to be shared by the rest of the band. I still say they sound like the Dead Kennedys. If the Kennedys started in 2005. So much cooler than all that other dime-a-dozen crap metal that plagues today’s airwaves.
I guess they turned away upwards of 60 people that night. Maybe we should do the show again? I don’t know. Probably not.
One of the highlights of the night for me was not only the sold out/highly attentive crowd but the fact that my friends Rob and Josh and I reunited for an impromptu performance of a song called “under them” from a band that we were in together from ’93-‘96 called “home.”. It was surreal for me, to say the least, to be performing a song with those 2 guys 11 years after the fact. Actually, our performance that night was literally our first in over a decade. We didn’t rehearse it and actually didn’t decide to do it until 3PM that day. I still say that of all the great bands I’ve been a part of “home.” was the one that I had the strongest connection with. We bonded on another level. An unexplained one. Almost as if we were born to make music together. It’s truly a feeling I’ve never had reproduced. That night brought back some of that fire. It was truly inspiring.

I’m looking forward to these upcoming shows that I have with old friend Matt Bachand. I guess it’s all over the internet now. Turns out that Matt is pretty famous.

I went to see The Roots last night at the Mullins Center with good friend and drummer extraordinaire JJ O’Connell. Mind blowing. I have to say, it was the most impressed I’ve ever been at a live show. They were easily the most talented, driven, inspired and creative band I’ve ever scene. Only Bad Brains moved me more. I suggest that everyone see them, regardless of what kind of brand you’ve stamped on hip hop. Their stuff is spiritual.
I have to go. Time to watch my DVD of Superfuzz. Don’t see red.
I promise nothing.
www.markschwaber.com

Fashion show

2006-04-14T13:43:00.000-04:00

Friday, April 21st 2006 at 8PM. PACE. "The Killing Card" is officially released. Full band show with many crazy surprise. Yucky Octopus (and their fully realized fashion show) open. Tickets are $5 in advance at Night Owl Records. You can buy my new record at the show on this night or if you can't wait you can get it directly from me here : www.markschwaber.com

I'll be on tour with Matt Bachand of Shadows Fall at the end of May through June. Hope to see you at one of these shows.

chamber of water

2006-03-15T15:02:00.000-05:00

Block party.
On March 14th I filled my day with music. You would think that most days of mine are filled with music. Owning a record store and playing in 3 bands. Even working at a bar with a great jukebox. I guess that theory would be correct in some ways. Although I think I tend to let music slip through one ear and out the other most days. It’s hard to get invested in the true spiritual element of music when you’re working. It becomes more of audio wallpaper for me. Yesterday I got to truly submerse myself in two wonderful arenas. I picked up the new Ben Folds DVD. It’s a concert in Perth where it is just him on the piano and a ninety piece orchestra. The arrangements were all done by various Australian composers/arrangers/performers. Whether or not you enjoy Ben Folds music (which I ecstatically do) this is one of the most moving things around. Just the sheer girth of ninety people pushing gorgeous air at you from a Petri dish shaped stage is quite an impressive thing. There is a moment between the songs “Annie Waits” and “Brick” that floored me. There is a moaning, groaning, living sheet of animal-like sound coming from at least forty or so string players that sets a enigmatic tone. A subtle, swaying beast crawls on the floor. Amazing.

Just a handful of hours after watching that DVD I went to see Dave Chappelle’s Block Party. I was in tears at least four times during the course of the film. I have a whole new appreciation of hip hop now. I think I easily wrote it off for a long time because of my insatiable appetite for melody and simplicity. But hip hop IS melodious. And simple in its groove by nature, hip hop leaves very little to still desire. Sometimes, I think I pigeonholed many rappers as misogynists/racist power mongers. I think that is still true of many mainstream performers. In all forms of music and art. However, the fearless leaders of the true spirit of the hip hop underground paint a very different and intriguing picture.

Kanye West exudes pure passion during his performance of “Jesus Walks” (which is simply one of the most powerful songs of the last decade). Talib Kweli and the multi-talented Mos Def do their best at shaking the crowd into a frenzy. Dead Prez ignite a hardcore fire much in the same way that early Public Enemy or MDC or The Dead Kennedy’s did 20 years ago. Lauren Hill and Fugees re-unite for the first time. I once spoke with Archie Shepp about many a great jazz players. He spoke of Coltrane, Miles and several other monsters of that genre with such great ease and familiarity that it was mind blowing for me. The only person he said was feared by everyone in the genre was Billie Holiday. She exuded this presence of respect and sheer and utter once-in-a-lifetime talent. She was the only person that made everyone shake in their collective shoes when she walked in the room. You get the feeling that Lauren Hill is the Billie Holiday of our time. She just drips of something above and beyond everyone else in her field. Wyclef Jean gives an uplifting performance and speech backstage to an all black marching band from Ohio. Telling them to never blame the white man. That it is a huge copout. Urging them by slamming his hand on the table to make their lives what they want them to be and never make excuses. Demanding that they go to the public library everyday and create their own betterment. The Roots are the backing band for the whole thing and I’ll tell you, there might not be a better drummer on earth than ?estlove. Groove and feel just fall off that guys hands at all times. Dave Chappelle has a sort of manic poetry running through him. Of course he’s funny. And gimmicky. He has everything that most successful comedians have. Great timing (which he credits Thelonius Monk teaching him), a funny voice, great facial ticks and a genuine “this is a good guy” feel to him. Deeper, however, I felt a somewhat turmoil-ridden man trying to discover what it is that he is here for. I read of his recent disappearance to Africa. Cutting off ties with his Comedy Central contract. Turning the comedic world on its ear. He lives in Southern Ohio. Roams the streets of his quiet, very white rural town with a sort of general glaze of a man searching for something more. He visits children in foster homes and makes you truly feel that he’s the person he comes across as. Genuine. Sweet. I felt that if this movie was never made you would still be able to find him doing all the things he did in it. Nothing seems forced by industry pressure. His actions seem real. His interest in throwing a party for those who might never get to be a part of something of this magnitude seem completely realized and pure. Seeing what this music did to the people in attendance was extremely moving. Then it hit me. Three quarters of the way through the film. Oh my God. He’s the next Richard Pryor.

I walked out of it thinking a lot about how lucky I was. How lucky we all are. We have such great access to such great art at all times. I felt like a better person somehow. Just by spending my day with these two very different portrayals of music and their respective environments. It made me wonder what it was about music that can shape our days in such overwhelming ways. Are we just chambers of water and muscle reflecting and absorbing sound waves? Do we live on a spiritual plane that is higher than anyone can comprehend? Where sounds create golden envelopes for us to file away emotions only to be able to open them and re-live them at anytime? Is it science or God? Why did I leave with these questions in my head? Well, isn’t that the beauty of music? You just never know what it will do for/to you.

be a paypal, would ya?

2006-03-07T16:22:00.000-05:00

My new CD "The Killing Card" can be purchased online by simply going to paypal and entering this address:
night.owl.records@verizon.net
and sending $12.99 shipping and handling included. I will send one to you the following day. Thanks so much everyone.
Or if you live in Western Massachusetts you can simply stop by here to pick one up:
www.nightowlrecords.net

Just thought I'd share

2006-02-24T12:52:00.000-05:00

These are 2 pictures of Spouse outside a early morning radio show in Maine in early 2005. I like them, however I don't think I ever noticed how much taller I am than the collective Spouse.
Just thought I'd share.

glow sticks and kicking the horse.

2006-02-20T14:26:00.000-05:00

See! I told you I'd write more often. But maybe by writing more often you'll be able to tell that I'm not really much of a writer after all. I just have to rely on having a solid foundation on which to begin. When I don't have one I'll just sound like every other blogging dipshit. I'm afraid of this. Very much.
Went to see Killswitch Engage last night at Cabot St. in Chicopee-by-the-sea. Good times. It was my first time seeing them live (which I feel a bit goofy about since I've been real good friends with a couple of the guys for quite a few years now). So much energy and passion just pours out of that band. It truly was remarkable to witness. My favorite story from the night? I tipped the bartender 2 dollars for the water I ordered and she couldn't believe that it was her tip. She asked me if I needed 2 more waters (because they were a dollar each). I told her no, that the money was hers and she looked at me like I just told her that I cured her Mother's cancer. I feel bad for people that work in that environment. They see 300 people a night and probably walk away with 40 dollars in tips after a 6 hour shift.
Henning's (pictured above) in-store record release show was wonderful. Glow sticks were had by all. You really should buy his new solo CD. It's my favorite work of his to date.
I watched the Sixth Sense yesterday. For the first time in a couple of years. I found it to be overwhelmingly touching. Maybe it's because I have a cold. Either way, between M. Night and Charlie Kaufman I think that the quirky romance genre has never held more hope.
That's it. See! I told you it would suck. Now I'm just going to be known as the guy that kicks the dead horse.

Whitesnake vs. Baseball

2006-02-16T15:50:00.000-05:00

So, my record is available locally on March 7th. Nationally on May 2nd. You’ll be able to get it at most local independent record stores or online through my newly discovered website www.markschwaber.com
I’ll be doing a tour of the Northeast at the end of May with Matt Bachand of Shadows Fall. Should be great. It’s the “Can’t harbor a donkey” tour. Don’t ask.
Spouse has been busy recording its 4th record in the cozy winter hills of Cummington. Yesterday Erin McKeown came by to sing on one of the new songs. She is a wonderfully cool person. I felt like I knew her for years after just spending 6 hours together. I hope to catch her at Club Helsinki this weekend. I guess her new record is going to be songs from the 1920’s. Should be pretty stunning given the strength of her voice. Hey, maybe she’ll sing on one of my songs one day. We talked about it. I have to say that this Spouse record is going to be my favorite record of theirs/ours to date. It’s chalk full of strange, Nozomi-like quirk and wonderfully manic Love Can’t Save This Love-like pop.
What am I listening to you didn’t ask? I’m excited about getting this CD I ordered by a band called I Am Spartacus. Today I’m listening to Monster Ballads (which is cock rock balladering from Whitesnake and the like) and the Baseball soundtrack. You know, the Ken Burns thing. Jesus, maybe I’m losing my mind.
I’m going to try and write in this blog more often. I think I always say that but this time I really mean it. OK, maybe I don’t. Gotta go. More than words is on the stereo and I have to sing the harmony. Please come see me sometime.

Sun. February 26th 2006 @ 9PM– The Basement – Northampton, MA – www.iheg.com
Solo opening for Matthew Hebert (www.matthewhebert.com)

Sat. March 4th 2006 @ 6PM – Platterpus Records – Westfield, MA –
www.platterpus-records.com
Solo in-store with Matthew Hebert.

Tues. March 28th 2006 @ 9PM – Bishop’s Lounge – Northampton, MA – www.martyhelly.com/bishops.html
Solo with special opener Matt Bachand of Shadows Fall (www.shadowsfall.com)

Wed. April 12th 2006 @ 9PM – Apollo Grille – Easthampton, MA
Solo with openers Matt Bachand (Shadows Fall) and Alice Austin (www.myspace.com/thelavas) ALL AGES.

Alice Austin

RECORD RELEASE SHOW!
FRI. APRIL 21ST 2006 @ 8PM – PACE – EASTHAMPTON, MA – (www.pioneerarts.org)
Please come celebrate the release of “The Killing Card”
Very special opening act; Yucky Octopus (www.myspace.com/yuckyoctopus)
ALL AGES. Tickets on sale now at Night Owl Records www.nightowlrecords.net
413-527-2444

Yucky Octopus

Matt Bachand

Thur. May 18th 2006 @ 8PM – Abbey Lounge – Somerville , MA - http://www.abbeylounge.com/
Solo w/ Matt Bachand, Spouse(www.spousemusic.com) and Moonshot

Sun. May 21st 2006 4-6PM – WXOJ Valley Free Radio 103.3 – http://www.valleyfreeradio.org/
Solo performance on air from 4-6PM. Also some guest DJ-ing.

Mon. May 22nd 2006 @ 8PM – The Red Door – Portsmouth, NH -
Solo appearance with Matt Bachand.

Tue. May 23rd 2006 @ 8PM – Johnny D’s – Somerville, MA - http://www.johnnyds.com/
Solo w/ Matt Bachand and Alastair Moock (www.moock.com)

Wed. May 24th 2006 @ 9PM - The Weathervane - Brattleboro, VT
Solo w/ Matt Bachand and Hayseed Chrome.

Thur. May 25th 2006 @ 9PM – Pete’s Candy Store – Brooklyn, NY -
Solo opening for Matthew Hebert (www.matthewhebert.com). Also with Matt Bachand.

Fri. May 26th 2006 @ 8PM – Aboveground Records – Vineyard Haven, MA
Solo in-store with Matt Bachand.

Sat. May 27th 2006 @ 9PM – Offshore Alehouse – Vineyard Haven, MA
Solo opening for the Kahoots (www.myspace.com/kahoots) and Matt Bachand.

Tue. May 30th 2006 @8PM – The Space – Hamden, Ct. – www.thespace.tk
Solo performance w/ Matt Bachand

May 31st 2006 @ 8PM – The Flywheel – Easthampton, MA – www.flywheelarts.org
Solo opening for Blame Game (www.myspace.com/blamegame). Also Matt Bachand.

everything else is none of your business

2006-01-26T13:46:00.000-05:00

Where to begin?
First off, I wish to thank those of you who have been faithfully reading this. I truly appreciate it. It’s helped spark an interest in writing that I never knew I had. A secret and somewhat nasty little habit that I had been burying I suppose. So thanks. I mean that.
It’s been sometime since I’ve updated this thing. I feel bad about that. To my defense however, it’s been a wonderfully busy time. Let’s see if I can cover it all.
I finished mastering my next record and started designing the layout for it with dear friend J Johnson at Designfarm. During this time I had one monstrously helacious time with the foundation that owns the estate of Henry Darger (the artist from which I picked a 3 panel piece of artwork for “the killing card”. The cover photo is shown above). Ceaseless emails and phone calls. A purchasing and re-purchasing of copyright rights between 3 different organizations. It instilled some panic but only a healthy amount. The kind that keeps things electric and firing. I realized during the mastering process and initial layout sessions that this entire record is and exact replica of an anxiety attack. It starts frantically and grows slowly towards a horrific crash and then curtails you back into what you think is safety. In reality it’s simply a cushion for the next inevitable takeoff. Sure, make the metaphor yourself. Picture yourself taking off on a plane. As it reaches its peak altitude it is struck by lightning and descends erratically but ultimately safely. A friend said to me (just last night) that she believed that the true purpose of art was to make the truth beautiful. I can’t tell you how strongly that resounded with me. I won’t be so bold as to presume that I’ve done that with the themes of this forthcoming record, but God knows that that’s where my attempts in all forms of art lay their collective heads. The CD should most certainly be out at the turn of March. I promise.
Also, thanks to J Johnson, I have my own website now. Check it out. It's got a link to this blog there as well as the other shit that all music websites have. www.markschwaber.com
Jen and I expanded our record store. It’s almost too overwhelming to describe what it means to build something from scratch and nurture the ever-loving shit out of it. Thinking that it might be all for naught. Then one day you stand back and discover that you are capable of doing it. And not only capable, but on some levels you have succeeded. Come see for yourself sometime.
The holidays were great, albeit a bit quick and wearing. The store was bustling (well, let’s be relative here, we’re not exactly Best Buy. Thank God.) The last week before Christmas was definitely worth the wait business wise. We truly appreciate all of those of you that support us. It means more than you know.
I played a few solo shows that were really wonderful. I really enjoy playing to small crowds that are attentive. It makes it so much more special. Thanks to those of you who came out to the Apollo, Bishop’s Lounge and the Abbey Lounge in Somerville.
It’s been one month now. For those of you who don’t know, I asked Jen to marry me on Christmas morning. We cried. She said yes. Everything else is none of your business.

killing Johnny's card

2005-12-29T14:42:00.000-05:00

I think I might use this photo inside my new CD. I have no idea who the guy in the front is. Hope he doesn't get pissed. If you look closely, Anne (who is a beautiful woman to begin with) looks like Sade. So cool.
So, it looks like my friend Adam D. will be mastering my CD. Which will hopefully be sooner than later. I am thrilled to have his gifted ears. I couldn't really afford to go to the guy that I thought I was going to use. Looked like it was going to cost 1,300 bucks. I asked Joel if Adam would be interested and he said "Of course! And he'd do it for 13 beers." I don't know if that's true or not, but I'll find out. I have tons of respect for the talent that Adam has. He's the Ken Mauri of metal. The man can do it all.
Also from the yes-this-goddamn-record-is-going-to-come-out-after-all department; I was recently granted permission to use Henry Darger's work (for a small fee) for my CD art for "The Killing Card". I am beyond thrilled with this development. His work is unsettling, anxious, cryptic, childish and beautiful. I think that I tried to capture all the former adjectives with my new record so I feel it's a perfect match. Anyway, the date inches closer and closer.
J Johnson of Designfarm (and probably more notably from National Carpet) is going to help me along with the layout and manipulations of the CD artwork. Free of charge, as well. Such an amazing, supportive guy.
And please, I beg you Red Sox fans. Don't be mad at Johnny Damon. It's all about the money and location (mostly money) for every single person in the MLB now. When Cal Ripken hung it up he also ended an era. Here, let me help you understand. Who said this?
"Baseball isn't what it used to be. It's all about the money now. No one plays because they love the game solely, it's all about revenue."
It was fucking Ty Cobb. In 1910. So let it go. Oh, and think of this way. Now that Johnny's gone maybe his legion of 14 year old girls in pink Damon shirts are gone too. Making it easier for people like me (poor but obsessed) to get tickets to a game that aren't either in the last row of the bleachers or 150 dollars apiece.

I leave you with the track listing of "The Killing Card." Why? Why not.

1) home.
2) The pressure it feeds
3) Everyone is gone
4) Torture ground
5) The combing of the bottom of the sea.
6) The drugs have shaped the angles.
7) Jesus Christ, man down.
8) The whisper no one else can hear.
9) Unbecoming (1992-94)
10) Island of the burning trees.
11) Forever every evening
12) Elephant's glide
13) Firefly parade
14) Stamp and release
15) Medicine you sent
16) You are just like me. You will never be free.

The record is dedicated to Brox.

5 in 5

2005-12-19T17:36:00.000-05:00

Here's my 5 for '05:

Music
Lightning Bolt - Hypermagic Mountain
Lou Barlow - Emoh
Rogue Wave - Descended Like Vultures
Winterpills - s/t
System Of A Down - Mezmerize

Movies
Batman Begins
Cinderella Man
Grizzly Man
Broken Flowers
Fever Pitch (Yes, I am a sucker)

5 things I loved about 2005
1) The San Antonio Spurs winning their 3rd Championship in 7 years. In a league filled with prima donnas and egocentric morons the Spurs handle themselves with class, dignity and respect. They also play team oriented basketball. Which is a rare (larry)bird in the NBA these days.
2) Dear friends (and AMAZING human beings) Killswitch Engage and Shadows Fall have had HUGE success this year. Here's to many more. They are proof positive that the age old adage of "nice guys finish last" is a crock of shit.
3) The Red Sox championship trophy came to the Brass Cat. In case you missed it, click here.
4) I won the WRSI singer/songwriter competition and I finished my second record, which should be out early in the new year.
5) Jen and I made it through another year of very long hours together and hope to continue doing so for years for our baby.

5 things I hated about 2005
1) Bands that put out records that sound exactly like an old band. White Stripes = Led Zeppelin/Aerosmith. Arcade Fire = Talking Heads. And bands that put out records where every song sounds like a different old band. My Morning Jacket. Modest Mouse. My advice for these folks. Crawl into a closet with your guitar, take a New York Times front page with you. Eat an entire bucket of paint with a spoon. Read the whole page of the paper and then write a song about it. You all must purge the notions of derivation. The saddest part about this is that there are people surrounding these bands (producers, walking wallets, engineers, friends, peers) standing around patting them on the back. Oblivious. Or knowing and not letting on for hopes of fattening their bank accounts. Sickening.
2) R. Kelly's video/movie thingy. Sorry Matthew, I understand why you enjoy this. It is really easy to laugh at and make fun of but the reality is that this is passing as the biggest thing to happen to R+B since James Brown. When a musical style has hit its collective head on the ceiling you would think that it would be the most likely time to look out for ground breaking talent. Someone who rethinks the whole genre or takes inspiration from as of yet untapped sources. What happens here, though? This idiot makes music into a soap opera for soccer moms. I can't tell you how much it sickens me that this thing is a huge hit. Marvin Gaye (who changed the dynamic of R+B in the 60's by singing songs about the horror of war) is spinning in his grave. And for good reason.
3) Our presidential cabinet keeps insisting on killing our poor (as in "impoverished") kids in a foreign land (that doesn't want us there and poses no threat to us) so the rich can get richer off the blood oil of that nations soil. Bile inducing. Sadly, this will probably be on my list for years to come.
4) The passing of Brox. The dog that was synonymous with the Brass Cat. Sleep well, dear friend. I am less of a man without you.
5) I can only think of those 4 things. I guess that's a good sign for 2006.

Happy holidays all.

Shadows Fall and Killswitch Engage at Night Owl

2005-12-16T12:09:00.000-05:00

Not nearly long enough, sir.

2005-12-11T14:15:00.000-05:00

A sad day. Richard Pryor past yesterday. First things first. Richard Prior was fucking hilarious. Truly. His facial expressions. His wit. His fearless deliveries. Any film he made with Gene Wilder. An amazing man born to entertain. Crippled by MS. Tortured by his drug-abusing past, Richard left us far too soon. 65 years. Not nearly long enough for this man who helped change the shape of comedy. He was fearless and undeturred. Calling his fellow men "niggers." Shocking his predominantly black audiences. Straying from the constant bureaucratic push of the men in suits that wanted him to be the next Cosby regurgetation. He challenged political avenues at every crossing. Pushed the boundaries of preconceived biases. During one show, after the return from his first ever trip to Africa, he decided to go on a rant about how often it is that he uses the word "nigger" in his show. Quoting Muhammad Ali he continues "...there is a dignity in their poverty that we don't have. That's what makes them so much stronger than us. As of this day...I will NEVER (pauses while beginning to sob)...use the word "nigger" again." So moving. To watch this perfectly successful (at that point, he was on top of the world) man embrace his own ethical developments in front of 3,000 people (and a video taped performance) was something that was, and is, unheard of. The definition of bravery. Muhammad Ali and Richard Pryor. Two of the most important men in American history. He will be be spoken of as a troubled comedic genius in the major media markets. He was so much more.
Not nearly long enough, sir. Not nearly long enough.

I’m no better than you, and you no better than I.

2005-12-01T15:52:00.000-05:00

I won the WRSI singer/songwriter competition. I’ve barely ever won anything. Some baseball awards and a hundred bucks on Keno once. Oh, and a hundred bucks on a scratch ticket from my parents one Christmas. The prizes I received for winning this are a Martin LX1. Which is a cool, travel size mini-guitar. I like the way it sounds. Maybe I’ll put a pickup in it and play it live sometime. I also won some recording time at Signature Sounds Studios. 10 hours. That’s great. I already have a song in mind to do there. Maybe it will be available on a split 7” with someone. Sometime. Who knows? I also won a portable PA. Hands down the most important part of all the prizes that were rewarded to me. I haven’t picked it up yet. When I do, it will serve as a permanent system for our in-store performances at Night Owl and also as a rehearsal PA. I used to lug the PA from the Brass Cat back and forth every Saturday night. I played on Johnny Memphis’ show yesterday afternoon. That was fun. I played “Ghosting” because the River has been playing it constantly from what I hear. This all means so much to me. I’m shocked and most certainly pretty embarrassed about the whole thing. I’m completely grateful to Marty for talking me into joining. And equally thankful towards those of you who judged this thing. I had a great time playing with Alex, Brendan, Eric and Kyle. All great writers.

I am most certainly no better than any of the aforementioned folks. Music is subjective. Completely. You know, dancing about architecture. Everyone reserves his/her right to like/dislike anything that they wish. I personally didn’t think I had a remote shot of winning. Why? I thought that the River would be looking for someone who was a little more straight-forward pop/country songwriter. You know, someone who fit (what I thought was) their style. I rarely listen to radio. So when I put on the River last week I was thrilled to hear them playing some great contemporary bands like Rogue Wave, Sigur Ros, Spottiswood, Lou Barlow, Nada Surf etc. That made me nervous. Oh God I thought maybe I do fit. I still didn’t think I would win though. Truly. I was shocked to receive the phone call from those guys telling me I had won.

I would like to clear the air on a few things too. This was a competition. Yep. There were several rounds and one winner picked. I have never, and never will, see music as a sport. I’m a big sports fan. I find it hard to even talk about both in the same night. They’re two very different visceral and electric beings. I’ve never once played a single note thinking that I was going to “blow someone off the stage” (a phrase I’ve heard from tons of people of the years that still makes me cringe). I’ve never felt I was better than anyone else in any musical way. I can play guitar pretty well. I can’t do simple math in my head. I can reach the things on the high shelves in people’s homes for them. I can’t cook very well. I’ve just recently learned how to sing. I can’t fly an airplane (or even get on one). I can throw a baseball pretty hard and accurately. I can’t do anything that requires building and/or fixing anything with my hands. I can play bass, piano, drums and a small handful of other things. I can’t dance. At all.

What I guess I’m saying is, don’t we all have lists like this? Do any of the things on them make us any better than anyone else? Of course not. I think it’s a great brevity meter. It should allow us to acknowledge ourselves as imperfect. It should also allow us to harness our abilities and accept them for exactly what they truly are. Trivial. I’m no better than you, and you no better than I.

So I won. I won because there were a handful of people that were judges that evening that just happened to like my music. I never changed myself at all during the course of this competition. I still took my dog for a walk every morning. Busted my ass all day long and played music that night for a group of sweetly attentive people. Same notes that I play when I play at the flywheel. Same words as when I play at some bar. Same in-between song banter as always. I will never sacrifice my integrity for personal betterment. I will never sell out. Music means too much to me to do that. To anyone brave enough to think I would do so I would appreciate them telling me that to my face. So I could fucking drop them. I will never change what I do and how I do it. What I think or why I think it. Who I am and why. Never.

4.

2005-11-10T20:20:00.000-05:00

“Two Years and Thirty Minutes” record release – PACE – Easthampton, MA – July, 2004

This is the most recent of my favorite 5 shows. Happening in July of 2004. Many of you who read this were there so I welcome any and all input in case there’s something that I missed.

I worked so damn hard at promoting this show. The hardest that I’ve ever worked at it, actually. I usually fall asleep at the wheel when it comes to promoting. Specifically, when it has to do with just me. But this wasn’t just about me. So many people were involved. It all started somewhere back in the fall of 2001. I had recently stopped playing in my last band (Hospital) and I began recording tracks here and there with one of my oldest (and closest) friends, Karl Ourand (Bloodbath, Pushbutton Warfare). After 6 years of being in Hospital I decided that I wanted to record as much as possible by myself. I was sick of being dictatorial. Most things never ended up sounding like what I wanted them too when I told other band mates what I wanted. I most certainly resented this sometimes. Acted like a child. Berated friends. It’s not their fault though, it’s mine. Being humble, I guess I just had a hard time telling someone what to do without feeling like some huge, egomaniacal prick. So I let people off the hook. Oh, that’s good enough I would think. I wanted to stop that. I wanted to make a record like the one that I’ve heard in my head for years. And this time, there would be no one to blame but me.

April of 2002 is when I quit drinking. I had a problem. A big fucking problem. It’s safe to say that I consumed 7-10 beers and 3-4 glasses of whiskey a day. Seven days a week. I only weigh 165 pounds (at the time 185) at 6’3”. Yes, I was killing myself. I called Kevin O’Rourke in tears, at 2 in the morning, yelling It’s got me and I can’t fucking get out. I talked with Matt Hebert about it. Telling him how scared I was. He told me that if I quit he would too. Out of complete camaraderie. I told him that I knew I was going to die if I didn’t . He could tell that I meant it. I got a lengthy email from Jose Ayerve that basically said that I needed to get myself together. It was very caring but also very demonstrative. I was embarrassing myself everywhere. JJ O’Connell repeatedly pulled me aside and through a broad range of concern and anger told me that I needed to change. Soon. It made him sick, what I was doing. He had a history of alcohol in his life. It really hit him hard. I remember pulling into some package store in West Springfield, MA on the way home from Bradley Airport so I could buy 4 nips of vodka to chug because I was convinced I was dying. It was 10:45 AM. I was borrowing money to pay electric bills because I drank all my money. I was beyond irresponsible and completely untrustworthy. If I promised someone I would be somewhere it was almost guaranteed that I wouldn’t. I would cancel gigs just so I could indulge. I stopped drinking the day after I refused to get on a plane because I was so scared, and partially sober (which made it worse). I ruined plans for my then girlfriend and I to go on vacation to San Antonio. We were going there because she bought me tickets to go see two Spurs games. I’m a big Spurs fan. Yes, she did it all for me and I ruined it. I couldn’t deal with myself anymore. I knew that if I kept drinking I would roughly have a half of a year left before I died. I was physically ruined. Let alone emotionally and mentally.

I didn’t use AA or any other sort of recovery group. I put the bottle down and never picked it up again. For the first 2 or 3 weeks I went through horrible DT’s. Sleeping an hour a night because my body was convulsing. I was still convinced that I was going to die. I was having irregular heartbeats and vertigo issues. I roughed it out. I haven’t had a drink since. It started a domino effect of changes. I left a 5 year relationship. Moved out of where I had lived for 6 years. Met Jen and fell in love. Opened a record store with her. Adopted a dog. Bartended (of all things) 3 or 4 nights a week for a summer or so. During all that time I was traveling all over the place with Lo Fine and Spouse. I was also recording my own songs, with a few friends, at Karl’s, Slaughterhouse and at Bruce Tull’s house. When I finally finished my first record it felt like it was someone else’s. It meant more than anything I had ever created before. I still think it’s flawed and a little scattered but there’s some genuine discovery on it. I finally realized what I could do if I wasn’t inhibited or polluted. I feel that it is important to air all of this out. This was the reason that when asked how I felt about the record release show I responded with a I can’t get my head around it. It means more than anyone knows. Well, maybe now (for the first time) I can really let you all know why.

The show itself was completely transcendent. My dear friends The Malarkies came up from NYC to open the night. They are one of my favorite bands of all time. Truly. In the top 10. Maybe 5. I remember pacing around during the afternoon of the show. I had hung up all the great posters that Max designed for me. I did a whole bunch of internet promotion and word spreading. Jen helped me so much. She covered my ass while I ran around thinking about nothing but this one night. I still felt like no one was going to be there. Not out of some attack of humble, but based on all of the bridges I had burned and the way I had treated people during my wasted days.

I walked outside of PACE about 5 minutes before The Malarkies started. There were probably 30 or so people inside. Outside, however, there were at least 50 something. Including old friends and people that I didn’t even recognize. Turns out the show sold out. 120 something people. All listening. All night. Matt Cullen, Paul Kochanski, Jose Ayerve, Kevin O’Rourke, JJ O’Connell, Philip Price and Flora Reed played every note of my record with flawless precision. I felt lifted. When I reflect on that night I find it hard not to think of Jose, Kevin and JJ. Three friends that helped me through so much. JJ, for instance, is like a brother to me. We yelled at each other. Got pissed. Wanted to punch the other in the face. But when it all came down either of us would take a bat to the head of anyone who crossed the other. I credit him with having a huge roll in saving my life. I’ll never forget that night. I heard a lot of people refer to it as being “magical”. I think I shied away from that for awhile out of embarrassment. But, you know? They were right. It was.

miss.

2005-11-10T15:32:00.000-05:00

Just back from West Hurley, NY. Spent two days with Dan Pollard, Jose Ayerve and JJ O’Connell writing and recording songs for what will be the next Spouse record. It’s always great to see Dan. He’s currently working towards his PHD in Evolutionary Genetics (or something very close to that) at Berkeley (the one in California, not the one where you learn to get paid by the note). He studies DNA strains and genetic coding within insects (specifically flies) to determine how it is that the genes themselves evolve. Oh, and he’s a great musician. Really inventive and intuitive. And very objective. I’ve always had a really hard time separating myself from a piece of music as its being born and molded. I usually need to hear a recording back to start to understand where it is that the song is going. Dan knows this stuff immediately. Maybe he was bit by one of the flies he was studying and now has super powers. Actually, I guess that would be a pretty lame super power. He noted our angular, new wave approach immediately. I’m not sure why it is that the 2 songs that we all wrote together sound like that. I went in thinking (and vocalizing at dinner on the first night) that I’d love to hear the band get back to some of the things that were happening on Nozomi (Spouse’s first record). Strange sounds and loops. That record helped shape the last 6 years of my life creatively. Everyone was in agreement with the point that I was making. So what do we do? We write 2 angular, new wave songs. Oh well. Don’t get me wrong, I think the tracks are great and will probably be worked into something rather wonderful.
While we weren’t recording we had time to eat, sleep, shower, watch a movie, drink ginger tea, check email, hang out and catch up, call our spouses and most importantly listen to the other songs that have been recorded for this upcoming Spouse record during this 2 month long stretch. There are some amazing songs. I’ve already got my favorites from the roughs. Don Mcaulay played some amazing drums parts. I have to warn you though. There is a song that I’m pretty sure is finished and will most likely be on the next record. JJ and I sat and listened to this as of yet unnamed track. Stunned. Tears. Every hair on our bodies standing up and frozen in electric waves. I couldn’t say anything for 5 minutes afterwards. Actually, I still don’t know what to say. It’s a song about Jose’s father and so much more. All I can say is that it’s one of the most amazing songs I’ve ever heard in my entire life. Prepare yourselves.

I’m one steel string guitar, one distorted bass and one more vocal away from having a completed 16 song second record. Still looks like early 2006 for “The Killing Card” on Pigeon Records and Lucky Creature.

Not that this is anything new, but…
I bought the New York Times on the way out to New York and JJ and I looked at every story/sidebar on the first 26 pages. I actually read at least 20 of them (he was driving). There was 1 story that didn’t have to do with death, crime, corruption, rioting, terrorism or embezzlement. That story was about this wonderfully colorful event in Mexico. A huge festival to save an endangered butterfly. Ironically, the butterfly has to be near extinction for this wonderful outdoor event to happen. Sad world.

I watched Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (for the 10th or so time) on Tuesday night. I started it at 2:30AM. Next to a wood stove. It made me miss Jen and Scooter. What a perfect film. I miss wonderful moments only seconds after they've fled. Jesus, what a fatalist.

I miss the fall. It smelled like it at times but never quite looked right.

My brother comes home for Thanksgiving. Actually, he comes home on the Friday before. This is us:

I miss him.

5.

2005-10-25T14:42:00.000-04:00

Over the next few weeks I'll attempt to do my best in telling you about my 5 favorite shows that I've ever been a part of. Hope you enjoy.

Sugar Plum Dandy –American Legion - Chicopee, MA circa 1993

The now irrational owner of the Chicopee VFW had turned on all the lights on. She was screaming at everyone that the show was over. One Poison Idea cover and two Sugar Plum Dandy songs does not a set make in my blurry, floating eyes. Why is she shutting us off? It’s still early. We’re no louder than the other 6 bands that played tonight. There are still people here listening to us. Well, all 60 of them are kinda pinned against the back wall. Watching something that they can’t quite make sense of. They understood the concept but just couldn’t figure out where this fit in their world. Which was good, ‘cause neither could we. And we all took great pride in being the most violently unsettling. I don’t think any one of us truly cared about anyone’s physical safety at shows. If you were there, and close to us, you might get hurt. We held this rite of passage very close to our hearts. Violence was an unfortunate side product of intense passion. That sounds slightly criminal. And we didn’t even remotely give a shit.

The rest of the bands playing this show were straight edge hardcore bands from various places. Worcester, Albany, Boston etc. All young, shaved-head, combat boot wearing tough guys. The reason we went on last is that the singer in the band from Worcester (whose name escapes me) insisted that they were going on before us. They felt it was their right because they drove 45 miles to get here. We only drove 10. He was pretty belligerent about it. Luckily for us (and unlucky for them) they said they’d still be willing to stick around while we were playing so we could borrow their drum set. We didn’t have one. Never did, I don’t think.

During the course of the evening, while the other bands were rigidly re-interpreting every cliché of the late 80’s hardcore scene, we were approached by several (not one, mind you) but several under age straight age kids. One at a time they would start to lecture us. About how we shouldn’t be drinking. How it would ruin our minds. So enthralled in their beliefs they were that one of them made a motion to take a beer out of one of our friend’s hands. After this something-teen year old was threatened with having his spleen removed with a spoon (an actual quote from that evening) the harassment died down. I guess this justified our anger. Why should we be treated like misanthropes in our own musical community? In a community that was fragile and neglected by most of all of the musicians in the area? One that we helped build for kids (much like the aforementioned ones) to help them connect with new people from all different walks. To not judge and not to be judged. To be freed from your daily stasis that was known to be filled with judgmental dictators. Bullshit. Unacceptable. It was time for us to react.

Jamie (Bloodbath, Hatebreed) manned the drums, Karl (Bloodbath, Pushbutton Warfare) grabbed the guitar, Rob (Home) grabbed the bass and Dave (Briteside) and I grabbed the mics. We tore through Poison Idea’s “Getting the Fear”. All I truly remember was rolling around on the floor with 5 or 6 other people in some crazy gang vocal gone awry. I was bleeding from the forehead and from somewhere else that I never found. Rob had essentially removed the entire headstock from his bass somehow. As the cacophony of the first song came to an end we were received with complete silence from these 60 or so kids. I then sat behind the drums and Scott grabbed the guitar (which continued to howl in feedback pain) from Karl. Rob stayed on his mangled bass and Louis grabbed the blood soaked microphone. We played 2 songs of our (Sugar Plum Dandy) own and it was during the second one that all the lights came on in the basement of the Chicopee American Legion. I saw this little, very pissed off old lady screaming at everyone to get out. As I stood up behind the drum set I noticed that two of the drummer’s cymbals were cracked. The hi-hat stand bent. The snare drum had a softball-sized hole in it. The floor tom was literally on the floor after snapping two of its legs. The kick pedal was imbedded in the torn head of the kick drum. And there were nothing but chards of sticks laying everywhere. In the chaotic shuffle of the aftermath I remember very little. I’ve been reminded of these forthcoming things by people who were there. See, I tend to lose control when playing music. Only sometimes. When things lift beyond the grounded normalcy of G major. These are the times that I live for. People in bands from earlier in the evening (specifically the drummer of the band that let me borrow his drum set which I just returned to its natural state of metal and wood) were being held back by random Legion patrons. They were trying to kill us. Or maybe it was just me that they were trying to kill.

Supposedly I screamed something about hating everyone and then managed to rifle (I have a pretty strong throwing arm) two beer bottles into the scuffling crowd. I was grabbed by the back of the neck and the next thing I knew Rob and I were running down the street in the rain. Through the blurry lights and the electric haze we see roughly thirty ATF people with shotguns screaming and rushing into the building across the street. Turns out there is a massive drug bust going on right next door. Simultaneously, there are four cop cars with screaming lights and sirens screeching to a halt in front of the hall that we just left. Looking for us, I presume. In the chaos some of the ATF people get spooked and turn their guns on the cops that are there for us. They begin screaming at each other and a handful of the completely armed and prepared ATF guys follow the sprinting police into the legion. We drive by slowly. In my friends ‘78 Grenada. Sweating. Bleeding. Chests heavy with fear and elation. We get about 4 blocks down the road and someone says “When do you think we should call them back about another show?”
Awesome.

question.

2005-10-21T19:14:00.000-04:00

I was sent an online survey. I usually delete these things faster than you can say insecure. I decided to give this one a whirl. Hope it's not as boring as it seemed when I was doing it.

What is your name? Mark Thomas Schwaber
How old are you? 33
When is your Birthday? September 12th, 1972
What is your zodiac sign? Virgo
Where were you born? Noble Hospital. Westfield, MA 01085
Where do you live now? Easthampton, MA 01027
What color eyes do you have? Blue
What color hair do you have? Red
How tall are you? 6'3"
How much do you weigh? 165 lbs.
What is your race? 100 meter
What is your worst fear? JESUS CHRIST! You just scared the shit out of me.
Do you smoke? Currently
Do you drink? Formerly - beer, wine, whiskey. Currently - water, soda, tea, coffee, juice.
Do you swear? Not too fucking often
Do you use drugs? Formerly - things I shouldn't say. Currently - aspirin, nicotine, a little caffeine, allergy medicine.
Have you ever or will you ever steal? Formerly. Was arrested at 16 for stealing a connect the dots book in Enfield. Never stole again.
Are you dependable and/or trustworthy? Isn't that essentially asking me the same thing twice? If you're truly trustworthy aren't you obviously dependable by default? I understand that one could be dependable (show up for work everyday, rake your Mom's lawn every year etc.) and not necessarily trustworthy. For instance, A compulsive liar could always run on time. But does untrustworthy mean compulsive liar? No. But anyway...kinda, I guess.
Do you play in a band or play an instrument? No.
Do you have any tattoos and/or piercings? Several.
If you had a favorite serial killer who would it be? Whoever it is that ends up ritualistically slaying George Bush, Dick Cheney and every other member of their cabinet.
If you had a choice about how you wanted to die what would it be? Unloved and violently. Or in a bed of flowers with Jen. You guess.
Do you ever get jealous of somebody else? Yes. Scooter.
Are you obsessive and/or compulsive? *Rocking back and forth in chair* *Perfectly aligning mousepad* No, not really.
Are you a violent person? Ask me again and find out where your teeth go.
What is your favorite game? Baseball
What is your favorite movie? Being there, Field of Dreams, The Natural, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Punch Drunk Love and too many more to mention here.
Who is your favorite band? Dave Matthews Band.
What kind of books and/or magazines do you read? What kind? Well, the ones with words would be a good place to start. How about authors because books are too numerous to mention. Saramago, Ichiguro, Steinbeck, Vonnegut, Eggers, Plath. Magazines are easy. Rolling Stone, Spin, Guitar World and MR+R because they sit in front of me many days a week.
What is your favorite color? Blue.
What is your favorite food? Baked Potato. Salad. Cheese.
What is your favorite drink? Water. Coke. OJ. Coffee.
Are you a virgin? At handgliding.
Have you ever shaved your head in a socially unacceptable way? You would never ask me that if you knew me. I'd look like a bug. Actually, what the hell is a socially unacceptable way? The only thing I can think of that thing they do with your head when you join the military.
Are you religious? Spiritual.
Do you stand for originality and creativity? Do I stand for it? It's the only way I know how to live.
Do you like meeting new people? Not really.
What do you like most about life? Love. Music. Friends. Family. Dogs.
What do you dislike most about life? The state of the world. The perpetual, endless, cyclical spiral of the political state of every country on earth. Sadness. Death.
Do you believe in love at first sight? I don't know.
Do you own a car? Yes.
What is your favorite season? Fall.
Pick One...
Snowboarding or Skiing? Watching a movie.
Coke or Pepsi? Coke. But Pepsi is OK.
Cats or dogs? Dogs. Dogs. Dogs.
Really smart or really hot? Depends on whether you're talking about people or my dinner.
Really successful or really popular? Both mean nothing to me.
Really rich or really famous? Both mean nothing to me.
Smart and depressed or stupid and happy? I have this conversation often. I am, by no means, a man of supremely elevated intellectual capacity but I do believe I can hold my own. Sometimes the fear. The anxiety. The sadness. The anger. They make me wish I was born with the IQ of someone with less ability to be affected by such environmental flaws and synapse misfirings. I don't know if I could ever say that I would like to be close to vegetative (W) but I could settle with being congruently listful and ambivalent (Adam Sandler).
Summer or winter? Winter when it's not freezing. Summer when it's not sweltering.
Spring or fall? Fall.
Hot or cold? Cold.
Love or lust? Depends. Not the diaper.
Chocolate or vanilla? Vanilla.
Skateboarding or surfing? Reading.
Rain or Sun? Sun.

So there you go. Sorry to burden you with all of that. I'm going to go...I've got more ideas that are brewing. I just finished writing my last song (I mean it this time, I swear.) for the next record. I have the date of November 3rd booked at Slaughterhouse to mix down the rest. Mastering at the end of November. Out at the end of the year-ish. I'm also kicking around the idea of making a book of letters that Jen, myself and a good friend of ours out west are sending to each other. More on that later. Hehe...I just said More on.

this exhausting month

2005-10-13T15:13:00.000-04:00

This is Tom Campbell (Jen's Dad) and I embracing this past Sunday night at the Apollo Grill in Easthampton. I don't know at which point of the night it was but I think this picture beautifully sums up the evening. Thanks to everyone who helped us raise over $7,000 for the Miguel Ayerve Scholarship Foundation. It was a night I'll never forget.
Since I still can't get my head around how wonderful the entire evening was I figured I'd write another random-ish thoughts thingy. Sound good? No? Tough shit.
1) I have a new pet peeve. Though this one reaches deeper than just chewing with your mouth open. I'm really sick of people asking me

"How the store is going?"

when they 1) rarely come in to support it in any way and 2) are people that I've met through music in some fashion. My answer to that question is always the same.

"Pretty good, slow and steady...but steady."

I wonder if this statement is keeping people that I know out of here. Maybe they're thinking

"Oh, cool...he's fine. He doesn't need my help."

Which couldn't be further from the truth. This calendar year has been really bad for us. Don't worry though, we're not going anywhere. We're too stubborn. We're down from last year but our store is more filled with stuff than ever. What am I trying to say? Well, I guess I'm trying to say that the next time you get the urge to ask me how our business is doing just squelch it and substitute it with the idea of stopping by sometime soon and spending 10 bucks. Is that too much to ask?
2) The new Winterpills CD is amazing. I already know that it will be on my top 10 list for 2005.
3) Things I bought yesterday:
PETCO
45 Holyoke St.
Holyoke, MA 01040
413-539-9197
Description Price
DC-MD PUDDLES RAIN $9.99
FCY-BEAGLES-POPULA $8.99
BDA-LG TERRY COW $7.99
TFH-REGULAR PORK C $3.99
AXX-QUICK TAG PET $7.00
Sub Total $37.96
Tax $1.45
Final Total $39.41

Barnes and Noble Bookseller
7 Holyoke St.
Hoyoke, MA 01040
413-532-3200

DOUBLE
9780156032582 $14.00
Sub Total $14.00
Tax $0.70
TOTAL $14.70

That's one raincoat for Scooter, a pork chop Nylabone, a stuffed cow toy, Beagles Magazine(for....err, Scooter...yeah, that's it) and a new name tag for the little man. "Double" is actually "The Double" by Jose Saramago. I also bought 1 pack Camel Lights Box. 2 rolls of HALLS coughdrops. I have no fucking idea why I'm telling anyone this. Oh wait, yes I do. It's because my ego is so fragile that I must let everyone know that I know how to read and dress my dog up in weird outfits. Not sure how that's gonna help my ego. Come to think of it, it should probably get me arrested.
4) I love rainy days. But this is ridiculous.
5) I posted a new song on here. It kinda sounds like crap. I think it has something to do with my less than stellar mp3 burner. It's a tribute song to Elliott Smith called "Forever Every Evening". I promise it will sound better on my next record. Which I keep pushing back the release date for. It now looks like the end of the year. I don't know. Money sucks. Guess I should return Scooter's raincoat. Here's some shows I've got coming up:
Tuesday, October 18th at the Bishop's Lounge with Carter Little and Dennis Crommett 9PM
Friday, October 28th at the Iron Horse with the Stone Coyotes. 10PM
Saturday, December 3rd at the Basement with Dennis Crommett. 10PM
6) Check out The Moves (no, not that all-female punk band...I loved them)and their great video for "Straight Outta Hadley". Too funny. We've got their new CD/DVD here.
7) This week, both the Batman Begins DVD and this amazing baseball CD boxset get released. So much for saving money for mastering. That's right. In this DIY world that I live in it must be good to know that if you like my music at all you have to wait even longer to hear it because my 33 year old ass has to get a Batman DVD and a baseball CD...jesus.
8) The Red Sox are eliminated from the 2005 playoffs. Bringing this magical and drunken championship ride of 2004 to an end. We only die once; but for such a long time.
9) October 9th's benefit, let alone my life, would not be possible without the hard work and huge heart of this person. My hero.

I hope to see you there.

2005-09-28T18:08:00.000-04:00

anything you need

2005-09-19T13:14:00.000-04:00

Went to see Grizzly Man last night. Fascinating. I feel like I have quite a bit in common with Mr. Treadwell. The constant struggle of trying to find what balances you. Getting lost in the beauty and the horror of connection. Searching. Constantly searching. Openly lost and scattered. He had an unbridled passion for staying close to what he found most wondrous. You can also feel his overpowering ties to his failed past. Living side by side with these animals was his penance. It gave his life meaning.

Was he met with challenges? Of course. There most certainly seemed to be a bipolar-like static coursing within but he chose the higher road to keep it from enveloping him. His child-like passion will be discarded by many critics. His heated anger towards the government will be seen as leftist ramblings by most. I am not one of those people. I saw a man who was once lost, lifeless and failing. I saw a man who searched for (and partially found) that which he believed would make him complete. The challenges that come from reaching that pinnacle must be immense. Just letting go of the search itself must confuse and overwhelm. It must be even worse when you find that this perfect emotional haven is still flawed and unfair. Sadly, I think this crippled him. Skewed his ability to decipher love from ambivalence. He wanted more. Maybe too much. Massive shifts in emotion must feel like tidal waves during this synapse search and rescue. But make no mistake, his reactions were passionate, elemental and pure. I truly believe that Mr. Treadwell loved those creatures as much as he said he did. Imperfect peace. How many people that you know could ever say that they've reached that plateau? How many of you have an even remote shot of making that climb? How many of you have even started? Rest well, Tim.

Received a letter today. It's typewritten on the back of a paper bag. It's from a friend who just moved far away. It starts with "...". I love that. The feeling of being alive in someone else's world before any writing begins. I just wanted to share one line.
"I numb the instinct of protection. Keep my head up, heart open and mouth wide with words."
You're right Sheri, this is most certainly just the beginning...

There was a tag sale sign lying in the mud next to a sewer grate near our house. The sale was 2 days prior to me finding it. It read "Tag Sale: All money goes to help Katrina victims". It was written in heavy crayon. The author; a child. A ten year old selling his toys for strangers in need while our government sits on its hands and makes excuses. I don't know if I've ever been painted a more bitterly sweet picture.

Is there a heavy handed moral here? I don't know. Do you need anything that you have? Maybe that's not the question. Maybe it's, do you have anything you truly need?

dream away

2005-08-26T13:18:00.000-04:00

Inspired by Henning and his great website I will list the songs I performed at shows. Last night I played a solo set with Matthew Hebert at the Dream Away Lodge in Becket, MA. What a beautiful place, with amazing food and wonderful atmosphere. The music is performed without a PA so it was a little intimidating (as you can see from the mistakes I listed below) but it was a grand time. Here's what I played:

FIREFLY PARADE
THE PRESSURE IT FEEDS
TORTURE GROUND (aborted before 2nd verse, forgot words)
ISLAND OF THE BURNING TREES
FOREVER EVERY EVENING
GHOSTING
STAMP AND RELEASE
TORTURE GROUND (I remembered all the words and was encouraged to do it again)
JOIN ME WHILE I WASTE THE DAY AWAY (forgot 2nd verse again, head in hands...the sock monkey saved me)

Most of these songs I'm sure you don't recognize for they will be on my just about finished 2nd record. Looks like it will be out in November or so.
Hebert's set was beautiful. After a short break we all grabbed guitars and passed out percussion to all our friends and did numerous covers together. Great time. Thanks again to Matt for hooking me up. When he moves, he will be deeply missed.

Gonna.

2005-08-22T12:25:00.000-04:00

Just when I thought my record was done. Just when I thought I had put the final touches on the final song. Here comes more songs. Ones that I like. Ones that fit in with these 11. Shit. I'm recording at home starting tomorrow (thanks to Jose). Gonna make some drums blowup and some guitars strum. Gonna make some ladies sing and play piano and cello. Gonna cut the cable of conventional record making. Going back to why I started this wonderfully insane lifestyle in the first place. Gonna put as many minutes that make sense on this CD as I can. If you're gonna pay 10 dollars for it then I have no right to make it only 40 minutes long. Gonna include various sound collages that I made back in 1990 or so. Stuff from tapes of daytime television and crazy band practice boombox recordings of songs making fun of Henry Rollins. I want to make this whole thing an experience, not just some jukebox throwaway singer/songwriter CD. Don't get me wrong, I'm proud of my last CD. Had a great time conceiving it and making it. That being said, I'm completely sick of that kind of mentality. Everything's safe. The songs all start and stop. The single is towards the beginning and the "weird" tune is at the end. Fuck all of that. Boring. Art should challenge you. Make you think. Make you get lost. Make you fucking FEEL. So bye-bye papier-mache cliches. So long safe, milquetoast world. Gonna challenge you again. Gonna kill the winners. Gonna spite the losers. Gonna get lost again. Gonna.
Upcoming solo shows:
August 25th - Dream Away Lodge - Becket, MA w/Matthew Hebert
August 28th - Apollo Grille private party - Easthampton, MA
September 16th - SPACE Gallery - Portland, ME
September 24th - Dartmouth College - Hanover, NH
October 18th - Bishop's Lounge - Northampton, MA

the gentle whisper

2005-08-11T16:05:00.000-04:00

I hope everyone is having a great summer. I wish I could spend mine here. In Cuba. At the decadent and lavish Hotel Moron. I shit you not, that is the name of this hotel.
Speaking of hotels, I want to put in my 1 1/2 cents on the state of politics in the our country. 24,000 Iraq citizens/soldiers verified dead. Yes, 24,000. That's about 5,000 more people than all of Easthampton. Last night I watched Bush attempt to speak(and I'm not just trying to be a judgmental prick, the man literally can't form sentences)about the state of Iran's nuclear platform. He's basically ready to bomb them too. Parents who have children in the military really should consider funeral arrangements because this is going to make Vietnam look like an afternoon stroll through Look Park. For the record, I'm not a Democrat, Republican or a Liberal. I believe that democracy is on the brink of no longer being a viable means of installing a government. In my opinion the whole system has to be thrown and started from scratch. Coupled with the fact that our economy is in the toilet, the environment is being completely ignored (anyone else notice that our winter was 2 months longer than normal and our summer is the hottest on record?), and treason (Karl Rove) gets the proverbial turned cheek by the White House AND the press. All this chaos. It makes it hard to stay balanced. Hard to find peace. Hard to choke back the 24 hour bile.
Yesterday, I went to lunch with a friend at the Apollo Grille. We then put the finishing touches on a benefit show at the Pulaski Hall this Sunday. It's for a 22 year old friend of a friend who is probably no longer with us as I type because of ruthless cancer. Shortly after dropping off my friend (who's preparing to move across the country and loves to speak passionately from the heart about art and life) I took my beautiful dog, Scooter, to the park to go swimming. I had to hose him down when we got home because he was a mud pit. He hates it as I put my thumb on the hose to gently mist him. Crooked rainbows dancing across the glowing grass of our home. I was laughing like mad. As soon as it stops he goes on crazy, playful runs and smiles from ear to ear. We settled in for a few and watched 20 minutes of a Elliott Smith DVD and 10 minutes of the Sox. I then went out to dinner with the love of my life and then came home and fell asleep on the couch with her while some Judy Garland movie gently whispered us to sleep...
So, for those of you who let politics consume you my advice is just take a step back and look at who you are and where you are. If you can't find the balance and peace in that then you might as well book one of the rooms at the good Ol' Hotel Moron.

Half way round the year

2005-07-30T12:23:00.000-04:00

Half way through the year. What have I been listening to you (didn't) ask?:
1) Lou Barlow - emoh
2) System of a Down - mesmerize (well, 4 or 5 songs of it)
3) Ben Folds - songs for silverman
4) Fruit Bats - spelled in bones (well, the first 2 songs are amazing...)
5) Foo Fighters - The new single is great. Haven't heard the rest yet.
6) Red Door Exchange - s/t
7) Jennifer O'Connor - the color and the light

Things I've been listening to a lot that didn't come out this year:
1) Lightning Bolt - wonderful rainbow
2) Owen - I do perceive
3) Mastodon - leviathan
4) Miles Davis - kind of blue
5) Killswitch Engage - the end of heartache
6) Poison Idea - feel the darkness
7) Elliott Smith - either/or
8) Lunatic Dub - on myspace only. Click on the name to listen for yourself.

Things from 2005 that I just don't get:
1) The White Stripes - The drummer sucks, period. The singer guy seems to be so concerned with image (very reflective of the corporate music world) that it's hard for me to take anything he says seriously. If I wanted to listen to 1987 Aerosmith then I would listen to 1987 Aerosmith. Because that's exactly what the 10 or so songs I've heard have sounded like. Oh wait, no I wouldn't. I hate Aerosmith.
2) Son Volt - A new record. A completely different lineup than the band from Trace (which was amazing). So these unispired songs are nothing more than a solo Jay Farrar album. Apparently he can't sell records anymore under his own name and has tried to make up ground by reverting back to his last bands' moniker. Lame.
3) Coldplay - They wrote a really good song. Then kept writing it for 3 or 4 records. I don't turn them off the radio or anything but I can't tell you how aggravating it is to listen to this guys sad attempt at writing lyrics. They are the dictionary definition of trite.
...all those signs I knew what they meant
something you can't invent
Some get made, and some get sent
oooooh words go flying at the speed of sound
to show how it all began
birds came flying from the underground
if you could see it then you'd understand
oh, when you see it then you'll understand
No I won't, jackass.
4) The Killers, Franz Ferdinand, The Strokes, The Hives and every other blantantly 80's band. I was never much into knitch or kitsch when it comes to music. The only band I've heard do something like that even remotely well is Hail Social. It's all over compressed, radio ready milktoast to feed the children. Don't even get me started on that band Jet. They might rival some of the horrible 80's hair metal bands as being the most thoughtless, heartless, passionless bands of all time.
5) Has anyone heard this band Seether? I'm not even remotely shocked that major label folk are still blind, deaf and dumb (and always will be), but this is pathetic. It's not humanly possible to sound anymore like Nirvana if you tried. I think it's time for someone to shoot the messenger.

anthem of indifference

2005-07-21T12:20:00.000-04:00

Not so long ago, a friend and I were talking about Westfield High School. We both went there. I graduated in 1990 (he, in '83) and he was wondering what our class song was. I was fairly convinced that his class song must have been that Billy Joel song. This is the TIIIIME to hold onto, this is the blah blah blah... That song sounds eerily like a cross between this early 19th century concerto (that I used to have on one of those pastel-blue/yellow/pink maxell tapes) and some Van Hagar song. Something off of 5150 maybe? Dreams? I don't know.

Our class song was by the Simple Minds. Don't you forget about me. I voted for Minor Threat's "Minor Threat". It wasn't on the ballot but I wrote it in. I thought it fitting. We're not the first, I hope we're not the last 'cause we're all heading for that adult crash...but of course, it lost. Rather dreadfully I suppose. I played guitar in the 5 piece band that was to perform the song at the graduation ceremony. I remember that it was in the key of D. Well, that's the key that our souless, crazy-eyed band director wanted to do it in. This is a relatively meaningless sidebar in my life. I only share this because of this one image that I have stuck in my head. I'm sure most of you are familiar with the song. It's got a huge group of "La La's" at the end. We play the song and it comes to the big outro and I remember looking up at 400 kids in caps and gowns singing in semi-drunken unison Laaaa, La La La Laaaa...la la la Laaaaa... and realized that this was perfect. The verse, chapter and story of the high school experience. The lovely anthem of indifference. Genius.

devil music

2005-07-14T20:41:00.000-04:00

Shadows Fall
Marilyn Manson

My friend wanted to have a fully clothed woman crawl on hands and knees across a bar top. Slowly and seductively inching closer to the camera. A three second shot to be used in a four minute video. Nope. Can’t happen. At least not according to MTV. My friends name is Matt and he’s in a heavy metal band called Shadows Fall. They’re doing extremely well for themselves. Playing massive festivals in Europe. Performing on the main stage of Ozzfest this year. Their musical neighbors on that stage include Black Sabbath and Iron Maiden. You might have heard of them. Shadows Fall’s newest record “The War Within” is being critically heralded with “redefining the face of heavy metal”. And not by some pimple-faced, eighteen year old zine writer. By Rolling Stone. By every guitar/drum magazine under the sun. Last I checked, their record sales were soaring around the 250,000 mark. So why no fully clothed woman crawling across a bar? Why in this day and age of hip-hop videos featuring woman in hardly any clothing, pouring champagne all over their chests in hot tubs, can MTV so demonstratively say no to this 3 second long idea? Well, I have a theory.

Heavy metal is devil music. There. That’s why. I know how simple and silly that sounds to those of you reading this. Whom I’m assuming are somewhat leftist-leaning, open minded folk and all. But really, let’s just think about how true this might actually be. Let’s really look.

It’s a long standing tradition. From the Medieval Period (1450 and before) through the latest documented case during the Romanticism Period (1810-1910) of traditional (more commonly referred to as “Classical”) music there were mandatory death sentences to be predicated upon any church organist who played a “tritone” during a service. A tritone is the root note of a scale played simultaneously with the sharped 4th of that same scale. Death sentence? Why? It was commonly referred to as the “devil’s tone”. So filled with dissonance and lack of resolve that it instilled panic amongst the common folk. If you want to know what one sounds like just listen to the first side of any Black Sabbath record. You’ll hear at least a hundred of them. Tony Iommi would have lasted two seconds in a church back then.

I don’t want to bore you to death with an undergraduate synopsis of the tritone. Point being that this heavy handed religious involvement with the arts (for this point of interest, music) has yet to cease. The pioneers of the delta blues scene in the early 1900’s? Evil. The first avant guard horn players in the 40’s? Satan. Ray Charles and his boundary-crossing sounds of gospel and soul, mixing sex and the church? The Devil. Elvis. Lucifer.

And on and on. In most recent history one can simply look back at the tragedy of Columbine. Marilyn Manson was pigeonholed as the martyr of all things terrifying. In some eyes he was the initiator of these tragic events. His over the top live shows and scandalous lyrics being used as fuel by every soccer mom protester. Manson, however, is a practicing Satanist. An intelligent, if not silly man who’s greater focus is shock as opposed to political sentiment or riotous action. This incident is all that the religious right needed to focus their attention back at censorship and purity. He was protested, in heavy militant form, at nearly every tour stop following that tragic day in Colorado. A Karl Rove-like strike at the heart of the FCC. Trying to get even more big headed and heavy fisted government into the smallest of holes. They were truly burning this man at the stake. Piling on and pillaging the first amendment in droves. In some twisted cases, holding this man responsible for the deaths of those boys. Granted, Manson is (or was) a practicing Satanist so there wasn’t much that the media would ever let him say. The only quote I find from him at that point is this:

"I have been asked to comment by numerous organizations on the Colorado school tragedy," Manson wrote. "It's tragic and disgusting any time young people's lives are taken in an act of senseless violence. My condolences go out to the students and their families."

But it didn’t matter. Shows were cancelled. CD’s were pulled from shelves. And the onslaught of picketing outside of the venues continued for the rest of his tour.

“ …Manson was the most prominent musical target Thursday. The New York Post ran a photo of Manson with a sidebar article headlined, "Telltale signs your kids might be ready to explode," along with photos of Hitler, three children in goth makeup and a man with multiple piercings in his face.”

From the same article that originally appeared in Addicted To Noise, a now defunct music website.

“Manson no longer embraces the goth imagery of the devilish persona he used while promoting 1996's Antichrist Superstar. For 1998's Mechanical Animals the artist took on the persona of a wild-dressing, red-haired glam rocker.”

Most should be able to see through this Marilyn Manson persona. Notice that it was more about imagery than calculated rebel rousing. Some might think that ended there. That the hectic and revenge-like attitudes have softened since this ridiculous indulgence. I mean, in one way I understand. When tragedy strikes one of the first reactions is to find an answer. To try and justify the act. To point fingers. Most times, aimlessly. It’s hard to be cohesive during such times, I suppose. However, it’s the trickle down that kills me. The endless, subtle leftovers that are more horrifying than the original strike. I guess its similarities to actual warfare are pretty clear. Just last year, guitarist Dimebag Darrell of the band Damage Plan was shot and killed during the first song of his bands set. Senseless. Tragic. The attack was made by a young man who was supposedly angered by the fact that Darrell’s previous band, Pantera, were no longer together. Not much to report on this sad kid. Obviously the case of someone suffering from some form of mental illness that helplessly spilled out. I talked to a dear friend who’s also in a hugely successful regional heavy metal band called Killswitch Engage. They were on tour when these tragic events unfolded. He noted that everyone on the tour was on edge. Thinking about their fragility and mortality. Feeling very unsafe and violated and obviously, deeply saddened by the loss of one of their colleagues. I watched a handful of hours of news coverage on the case that next day. From various network affiliates. Fox, CNN etc. And lo and behold, there it was. All of them, towards the end of their reports made mention, however so vaguely at times, to the “music of the devil”. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. You can do the homework yourself, Damage Plan and Pantera were no more involved with the church of Satan than Martha Stewart is. (Oh wait, maybe that’s not the best analogy. I have my suspicions about her). I would say a safe number of Satan-free metal bands hovers around the 99th percentile. Unbelievable, I thought. They’re going to dig this up again. Send the FCC into a spin and bring down the hammer on heavy metal. On the devil. How far reaching is the church? Could they change the face of the entertainment industry? Could they reshape our political structure? Could they sneak their ways back into the classroom? Could they elect an ape? Seems that the answer is a resounding yes.

Meanwhile, my good friend Al and his fiancée were shopping for clothes for his then 9 year old son. While perusing through the isles of some huge, nameless department store, looking for a Spiderman shirt or somesuchthing, he stumbled upon the undergarment isle. The sign read “Thongs. Ages 8-12. $5”.

So sex can now be sold to children. It’s now a passionless after effect of the ad industry. You can pour booze all over yourself in a thong in a video on MTV that’s shown at 4 in the afternoon on any Wednesday of the week. Believe me, I don’t want to censor that either. I believe that those decisions are truly up to the artists. But if we can mass market misogyny then why can’t my friend’s band have a fully clothed woman seductively crawl toward the camera for 3 seconds? Why? Is it really what I suspect? Can it be as simple as the ageless question of that which you don’t understand is what you fear most? Heavy metal music is just that. Music. Made by passionate people who are extremely skilled. Sometimes it’s filled with anger, isolation and sadness. It’s always loud and it’s always fast. However, it is never made with the intention to initiate some sort of mass destruction. It’s art. Made as short, powerful statements. How much further can this really go before things are drastically confined? Before this heavy hand chokes the life out of our freedoms? It’s a truly horrifying thought. One that would make great subject matter for, well, a metal song I suppose.

Killswitch Engage
Madjef video shoot

No Punk?

2005-07-08T20:43:00.000-04:00

This was intended to be in response to a post on masslive.com. that talked about punk music in Western Mass...
Wow. What Western Mass have you been in? I wouldn't know music if it wasn't for Western Mass' long standing and fertile hardcore/punk scene. "Punk" as a Wal-Mart inventory tag is completely sterile and empty of anything other than image. "Punk" as a term applied to bands who are infuriated, isolated and completely independent of traditional morality and sheepherder cataloging was (and is) rampant in this area. Larry named many, many great bands. Some that helped shape my entire life. I get pigeonholed sometimes as the quiet guy, or the sensitive pop guy...nothing could be further from the truth. I have so much more in common with fans of this style of music than I do with any quiet pop songwriter. Somehow (maybe just through not being around here too long) people don't remember that I grew up neck deep in punk. Was in my first hardcore band in '87. As a matter of fact, I didn't settle into anything even remotely slow and melodic until 1994. Up until that point it was nothing but one hundred miles an hour and brutal political discourse. I loved it. I STILL love it. You'll be more apt to catch me driving down the road listening to MDC or Bad Brains any day of the week then you will find me listening to Nick Drake. It's all because of Western Mass' scene that I am who I am today. Wishful Thinking, G-Man, Rumble Puppy, Bloodbath/Pushbutton Warfare, 4C Club, The Gutters, Sugar Plum Dandy, Deep Wound, early Outpatients, PSD, The Hutus...man, those were the days. As I recall, there were hundreds of kids at all of these shows. Pulaski Hall, every VFW this side of Worcester, Pearl St., Katinas etc. And I'll tell you...no other time has been even REMOTELY as intense, frenetic, crazy and wonderful as those times. Some of you need to do some homework.

the killing card

2005-07-08T19:40:00.000-04:00

"What about dignity?
You will die, and when you die, you will know a profound lack of it. It's never dignified, always brutal. What's dignified about dying? It's never dignified. And in obscurity? Offensive. Dignity is an affectation, cute but eccentric, like learning French or collecting scarves. And it's fleeting and incredibly mercurial. And subjective. So fuck it." - David Eggers
My next record will be done on August 2nd. It then needs to be mastered and pressed so it seems set for a fall release. It's tentatively titled "The Killing Card" and will be a dual label release for both Pigeon Records and Lucky Creature Records. The majority of the subject matter is about my severe hypochondria that only one person I know helps me through. A couple songs about an old friend who remains a black cloud. And one written in tribute to Elliott Smith.

wedding spoon

2005-06-23T19:42:00.000-04:00

Timothy and Elizabeth

Our dear friends Tim and Liz tied the knot last week. Great time. Beautiful couple. The best wedding I've ever been to, by far. Not a big fan in general.

Went to Fenway on Fathers Day with Jen, my Dad, her Dad and my brother (he flew in from Phoenix). Great time. Great game too. Well, not really. We blew out the Pirates so I guess if you're a baseball purist then it wasn't a "great" baseball game. But if you're a Sox fan it was a great game.

I'm in the middle of finishing my next record. Recorded some more at home with Jose. My good friend Joel from Killswitch Engage came by and played some wonderful guitar on what will be the first track on the new record. In the middle of playing one of the guitar parts he stopped mid-chord and pet Scooter who was sleeping on the couch next to him. Pretty funny. Scooter doesn't care that he's in one of the biggest metal bands on Earth. If it's not Will Smith he just doesn't care. Don't ask.
Looks like this record is going to be either 10 or 11 songs. It's so much work (albeit, fun) making a record by yourself. Finding the right times to put different instrumentation on certain tracks. Playing around with counter melodies and weird percussion ideas. Mapping out edit times to try and shorten the mixing process. Trying to figure out which order the songs should go in. It's been so great, so far.
A few things about the forthcoming record:

1) It's terribly depressing. I mean, REAL depressing. Dirgy and minor-keyed. Not a quintessential summer record by any means. More like a record for people who live in the tundra of Alaska in December.

2) There are no swears. That's right, not a single curse word on the whole fucking record.

3) The people that have performed on it thusfar are:
JJ O'Connell, Paul Kochanski, Anne Pinkerton, Matt Cullen, Ruth Keating, Joel Stroetzel and Jose Ayerve.

4) I thought I had a title for it but I'm now starting to think otherwise. We'll see what happens. It might just be untitled. Or maybe it should be called *No need for fucking parental advisory stickers*

5) Want to know some of the song names? Well hell. Here you go:
The pressure it feeds
Forever every evening
Island of the burning trees
The whisper no one else can hear
Stamp and release
The drugs have shaped the angles
You are just like me. You will never be free.

6) "Forever every evening" can be heard on a new compilation by Lucky Creature Records in Nashville. Night Owl will have them in a matter of days.

7) Batman Begins is absolutely amazing. I can't get over it.

Wedding Daze

Keep us like the snow blanketed woods

2005-06-09T14:52:00.000-04:00

Championship Cat

There it is. Unreal. This is not photoshopped. THE trophy was at our second (OK, maybe third) home. Saturday, May 28th at 12:30PM the Red Sox trophy team stopped by the Brass Cat for 15 minutes. We had less than one day of warning. Regardless, at least 60 people showed up. My Dad, Mom, Uncle, Grandmother, Grandfather, Jen and I were all there for it. As the hour was approaching we all started to get a little nervous. Mike Lavalle (one of the owners of the Cat) said "God, I hope this isn't a hoax". I was standing outside looking down the street waiting to see the Red Sox car that the trophy travels in. Yes, the entire car is painted with Red Sox logos and whatnot. When they finally pulled up I waved them into a parking space and introduced myself and thanked them for making it. They were very gracious. As we entered the bar we heard an explosion of clapping and hooting and hollering similar to that grand evening of October 27th. Hundreds of pictures were taken.

Baseball is talked about (and written about) to death in this area. Please bear with me. I wish to briefly join that heralded (and sometimes, ridiculed) community.

I didn't think it would be as moving as it was. After all, it's just a piece of hardware. Just a static, inanimate object. Big deal. My dear friend, Eric Poulin said the same the night before. It's just a trophy, we all have them. Eric's entire family was there too. His Mom, brother, sister and all their kids. He relayed a story to me the night before game 4 of the World Series. His brother, Donny pointed out to him that this was much, much more than just a baseball game. This pulled people in a similar direction. It helped make people who were already close, closer. It also made friends of strangers. The Sox winning it all would be justification to so many, in so many different ways. Eric and I are very similar. We were raised by a thinking man's blue collar family. We were born with gloves and bats in our hands. If I wasn't playing baseball I was talking about it. If I wasn't talking about it I was thinking about it. The Red Sox were the core unifier in that way. It made you new friends. It made conversation for you with people you might never have had the chance to talk with otherwise. See, in New England (specifically, Massachusetts) it's the only constant thing. The seasons all change. People move from town to town. The factories all close but remain as giant, ghostly reminders of failure. But no one ever speaks ill of these things. They deal. They move on. They continue to support and believe in the people around them. The Red Sox embody the famous quote "The more things change, the more they stay the same". Players hop around like hired mercenaries. The ballpark is run down and broken and filled with inevitable failure. You always think that this must be the year. Even the 65 year old snakeskinned mechanic thought that '46 was their year. Or '67. Or '75. Or '78. Or Goddamn '86. That is, until October 27th, 2004. They did it. The Red Sox became World Champions. People rejoiced. Strangers hugged. Teenagers ran down the street jumping and hollering. Church bells rang. Car horns honked. Fathers hugged their sons. Sons hugged THEIR sons. People wept. Wept like they never had before. Something died that day. Peace blanketed everyone. Kept us like the woods at night during a snowstorm.

So here we are, Eric and I. Cheering as they march the championship trophy into our front yard. The jaded and rough edges of our opinions dropped and lost to the overwhelming accomplishment of those 25 men. I had my photo taken with my father and grandfather. Three generations of silence finally vindicated. Eric stood with his brother and sister and their kids. Also three generations. Eric's mom refused to be in the photo. She just wanted the kids to be in it. Nestled in Eric's somewhat freakishly large arm was a photo. A small, wooden frame decorated with tiny baseball gloves and bats and balls. The picture in the center was that of his father and himself as a toddler. See, Eric lost his father, Don Poulin Sr., to chronic lung disease in 1999. The man that taught him everything. The man that always made sure he kept his faith. His belief. His hope. The Red Sox were one of their strongest bonds. Baseball and all its gentle prose. And all it's vigilant passion. I've got a great picture of all of them. Everyone beaming from ear to ear. The small picture of their father gently tucked in Eric's arm. When it was winding down my father grabbed Eric and hugged him. And just like that this sterile piece of gold and platinum leapt to life. Telling wordless stories everywhere in that room. Beautiful and strong and filled with an odd familiarity. It really happened. We were really there for it. We are lifted. So high, as a matter of fact, that you can almost feel those hugging you who are no longer standing here with us. Yes, it was that important. The tears came from nowhere. I saw him and grabbed him and lost it myself. "He's here, man. He's right here." I kept whispering to him.

On behalf of everyone I love, thank you Red Sox. Thank you more than you'll ever know.

21 50

2005-05-25T19:39:00.000-04:00

my team

Yes, I love the San Antonio Spurs. Why? I met David Robinson in his Navy days and thought he was so cool that I vowed to follow whatever team it was that drafted him. That was 1987. There were many, MANY horrible years after that. The Chuck Person and Dennis Rodman teams being the worst of it. In 1997 the Spurs beat out the Celtics for the #1 pick. Tim Duncan. Amazing. In 1999, with Sean Elliott healthy and Avery Johnson running the team, we ran through everyone and won the championship for the first time in team history. Yes, it was the strike shortened season. There was much criticism of this title (most notably by Phil Jackson). Some said it should have an asterisk next to it. I completely disagree. We were so good that year that no one would have beat us if we played 82 or even 182 games. In 2003 the Spurs did it again. David Robinson's final game was in San Antonio, 16 years after being drafted by the same team. He won his second and final championship. Retiring as one of the greatest players to ever play and more notably, one of the greatest diplomats for the league. A family man who never spoke an evil word. A true leader. His constant ear to ear grin was almost as big as his heart.
Now it's Duncan's turn. With a promising 2-0 lead over Phoenix in the Western Conference Finals it looks like we might have another shot again this year. Too soon to tell, but I'm just as nervous and excited as I was back in '99 when they did this for the first time. I really like the NBA. I know that's not a popular thing to say. Maybe it's because I'm a Spurs fan. With all the arrogant, primadonna morons in the league I take pride in the fact that our team has none of that. It plays as a team, with its head down. All business. And nothing but respect for the game of basketball.
Still recording the new record. Lots of fun with Jose and Mark Alan Miller over the past few weeks. Getting excited to get this thing completed. Looks like fall of 2005 is a realistic release time. Fingers crossed. For the record, and the Spurs.

Lou and I for sale

2005-05-11T17:09:00.000-04:00

westfield

Found this poster on Lou Barlow's website. I used to be in a band called "Hospital" and this was from one of the many, many shows we did together.
Looks like the show that I did with Lou Barlow back in March at the Middle East in Boston is on sale by clicking here. Sadly, you have to buy both of our sets seperately but I bit the bullet and maybe you can too. I would deeply appreciate it.

thein theof my

2005-05-04T17:21:00.000-04:00

the

in the

of my

.

No cohesive thought to put together so here...10 random things:

1) I bought Johnny Damon's new book (the aptly titled "Idiot"). Let's just say it's pretty obvious that he had a concussion after that collision with Jackson. Why did I buy it? I'm a sucker for baseball stories from the horses mouth. If you're a baseball fan and you've never read either Ball Four or Foul Ball by Jim Bouton you most certainly should.
2) Scooter took a record amount of craps on Monday mornings walk. One walk, four dumps is a great metaphor for spending a day in the suburbs of Manhattan. Congrats to Matt Hebert for being the sole winner of the "Guess how many times my dog shit this morning" question. Weird thing is, it didn't even faze him. The question, that is. Not the amount of turd.
3) I heard the first track off the forthcoming Red Door Exchange CD. Holy shit. Hands down the coolest and most creative song I've heard come out of the valley in years. Don't know the name of the song or else I'd let you know. I think the CD comes out fairly soon though. They were talking about mastering it real soon.
4) Don't know why I need to tell anyone this but I'm going to get steaks tonight with Killswitch Engage. My good friend Wayne (who's their merchandise guy) has started a new death metal band called "Colostomy Grab Bag". Hands down the best band name of the year.
5) Jen's play starts this weekend. She's been rehearsing for months. I can't wait to see it. It's called "Misery for Breakfast" and it's at the APE Performance Space in Thornes Marketplace in Northampton. May 6,7,13 and 14th. Tix available by calling here.
6) Did you see us on the cover of the advocate? Such a great piece by Dan Oppenheimer. Much thanks.
7) Latest favorite record? The new Ben Folds
8) I threw batting practice to the Easthampton High baseball team and the next morning found muscles that I never knew I had to begin with.
9) Ted Williams
10) The above collage of photos is a puzzle. It will most likely be the name of my next record. The person who correctly figures it out AND tells me where it comes from (yes, I will most likely get sued for this one) will get a free copy of my last CD and a spot on the guest list for the brass cat, full band show I'm doing with the Winterpills and Harper (featuring Tom and Terry from NRBQ)on Saturday, June 4th. Good luck.

voting sucks

2005-04-27T19:26:00.000-04:00

time to vote

Hey all,
I was accepted for NPR's "All songs considered". I was hoping that you all could vote for me (unless you think I suck, then please refrain). You can vote by clicking here

If I get the highest score I think I become president of NPR. Or I get a box of meats. Or maybe I'll be pope. Or maybe these voices in my head will stop.

Thanks everyone,
Mark

School for the What the Hell?

2005-04-20T17:12:00.000-04:00

school for the what the hell?

Jen and I went to see Henning last night at the Bishop's Lounge. We knew we couldn't stay too long (which sucks because Lesa sounded great and Matt Hebert told me he was covering Sarah McLachlan's "Adia") but had a great time nonetheless. Pictured above is Henning. At least that's what a google search for "images" told me. He looked a little diferent last night. Not so, I don't know...tilted.
Henning writes wonderful songs. I can laugh like crazy one moment and then be musically and lyrically stunned the next. His stuff breeds jealousy. I'm going to cover that song about the wedding as soon as it's recorded...fucking beautiful. Go read his wonderfully funny and crazy busy blog.
My next record is underway and we already have 2 songs mixed. The beginning of May brings Ruth Keating (the Malarkies, Ida) and more recording. She's playing drums on a few songs of mine. What an honor. I would love to see you guys at Night Owl this Saturday at 7PM. I'm playing a short solo set and then a band called Ponies in the Surf are playing. If you haven't heard them you should. They have really complex jazz changes and weird little indie pop melodies. Very cool. Thanks to Chris of Aboveground Records in Martha's Vineyard for hooking us up with them.

Ponies in the Surf

boys amongst the biggest man

2005-04-14T14:42:00.000-04:00

the legend
Going to a Red Sox game for me these days is like mapping out the invasion of Iraq. I have no idea how the hell I got there or what the hell I'm even doing there. My good friend Brian Oakes (pictured, right) landed free tickets to April 13th's game against the Yanks. Schilling's debut. I started the wheels in motion. Get someone to cover the store (Jen had a prior commitment), move around some rehearsals, get the work I needed to get done on Wednesday done on Tuesday, finish taxes (Jen did 99.9% of them), make sure I have decent notes to train my friend Tim to run the store, pet the dog...
So we go. Schilling looks like God for the first 3 innings and then looks like me for the next 3. Jaret Wright does just the opposite. We lose. Great time though. Great seats (the last 2 innings we sat 10 rows up from the field in-between 1st and home). I bought a T-shirt and a 6 dollar soda and 4 hot dogs. Don't ask. I also bought a 2005 Sox yearbook. Why? Well, I always try and get one anyway and it just so happens that as we are heading into the stadium we see generic computer printed signs that say "Autograph Alley : signing today : Johnny Pesky"
There were only 60 or so people in line. This can't be right. We get in the line and start asking people around us "Is Johnny really here?". A resounding yes is our answer. This isn't really happening. No one is getting in the line. No one cares. People yell *Hey, who's signing?* and when they find out they just shrug it off and say "Oh, cool" or "Awww...he's so cute". One guy even admits he doesn't know who he is. I get the distinct feeling that if any of these folks that were wondering who was signing found out it was Manny or Ortiz or Foulke or Damon etc. etc. it would have been a madhouse. You know, one of those cabbage patch kids mall fights circa 1984...limbs of soccer moms flying everywhere. But nope, no one cared. Just Brian, about 60 other people and I. Out of 35,000.
Let me start by saying this. I am biased. I love baseball. I played a TON of baseball. I can even safely say that I was pretty good. I love everything about the game. The smell of the glove. The click of the cleats on rock driveways. The green grass. The electricity of the crowds. The sound of the ball when it hits the bat...you know, all the field of dreams stuff. However, I do NOT like what has happened to baseball over the past 10 or 15 years. The egos. The weightlifters. The steroids. The homeruns. The horrible lack of parity thanks to a revenue sharing plan that might as well have been written by Napoleon. The hired mercenary feel of free agency (don't bother buying a jersey that has a players name on it for your 10 year old son...whomever it is will be gone within 1-3 years).
John Michael Paveskovich (better known as Johnny Pesky) was born in September of 1919. He broke into the majors in 1942 with the Sox. He played one year for them and was then shipped off to WW2. For 3 years. Alongside him in the war was fellow teammate Ted Williams. They both did their fighter pilot training at Amherst College. Pesky returned and played for the Sox until 1952. He then played for the Tigers for 3 years and the Senators for 1 before retiring. His career batting average is .307. In '46 he took the wrath of New England when he was pigeonholed by the shithole Boston sportswriters (they were bad then and they are unreadable now...as a matter of fact I think a few of them should be assassinated, but that's a whole 'nother story). He was accused of holding the ball in the '46 series while Enos Slaughter (who ran like me) scored from first. You know this. You have the Red Sox World Series DVD. Johnny went on to manage the Sox, briefly and still hits fungos in spring training. He sings the praises of everything Red Sox. He wishes that Tom and Jean were still alive to see championship. He cried in Nomar's arms at Ted Williams memorial. With the exception of maybe 4 or 5 years of his adult life this man has lived, breathed, slept and ate Red Sox. He encapsulates everything that is great about the game. He is truly, one of my heroes.
Brian and I were convinced that we were going to somehow lose out. Pesky’s going to leave before we get to the line. The line is moving like a slug and it’s creeping up on game time. 20 minutes left. 15 minutes left. 5 minutes left. We’re 6 people back.
Well, as you can see from the picture above, we made it. He was lucid and sweet. Kind and genuine. Hilarious and honest. I congratulated him on his ring. He looked at me as if I was the first person to congratulate him. “Thank you son, thank you very much.” He joked with a young Yankee fan in front of us by taking off his hat and threatening to throw it over the banister. Huge smiles. He gazed longly at my yearbook that I asked him to sign. “Wow, this is a great book. I need to get one of these.” I tell him that he should probably get one for free, I felt he earned that much. He got a great kick out of that. I asked him where his ring was, after noticing that it wasn’t on his finger. “Home.” He replied. “Home?!” I retorted, perplexed. “At my age, kiddo I’d end up losing it if I wore it tonight…and my wife would kill me.” As Brian and I went around the counter to get our picture taken Mr. Pesky stood up and looked back and forth between us and had bug eyes. “Holy cow, these are some big fellas!” Hardly, Mr. Pesky. Next to you, we are but boys amongst the tallest and strongest man.

the bricklayer with the library card

2005-04-09T12:19:00.001-04:00

same ol' same ol'

Here we go again. This time with a resounding lack of tension. There's nothing left to prove. Not only do they finally win it all but they start their amazing story by embarrassing their most hated rival off the field. Opening day of the 2005 World Champions has come and gone. What have we learned since the victory heard round the world? David Wells is still fat (maybe even fatter), Bellhorn is still constantly hungover, Kevin Millar is still everyones drunk uncle, Johnny Damon still can't spell "caveman" and Pedro is still pissing on the Boston media. The more things change...well, you know.
I started recording what will be my next record. We're doing almost all the tracking at the record store and at Jose Ayerve's house. He has such great ears and the same studio work ethic as I do. Use your time wisely and be thorough. It's such a pleasure to work with a best friend on something like this. We've got 5 songs that I'll be putting finishing touches on at Slaughterhouse this Tuesday. Anne Pinkerton, Matt Cullen and Paul Kochanski have already made their amazing contributions. I'm VERY happy with what we have so far. It looks like the second half of the record will be completed at the end of May. I think this record is going to be pretty dirgy. Strangely though, there seems to be a hidden happiness in it. Granted, it's VERY hidden. Also, good news for those of you with kids. There's no swearing on this one. I know I have a history of having the vocabulary of a bricklayer with a library card.
April 23rd - Night Owl Records - PONIES IN THE SURF and MARK SCHWABER - free in-store performance 7PM
April 26th - Bishop's Lounge - MARK SCHWABER, REBECCA CORREIA and MARTY HELLY - 9PM
Here's my new promo photo, for those of you interested:

.

hug your dog

2005-03-26T19:55:00.000-05:00

beaglemania

I feel like I should always mention something music related in here since I don't write everyday. That way I can justify my tirades. So; Here's some dates of note:
Friday, April 1st - Nuclear Waste Management Club and New Radiant Storm King at The Elevens - Northampton, MA
Saturday, April 2nd - Mark Schwaber (solo), Lo Fine and Treefort at the Brass Cat - Easthampton, MA
Saturday, April 23rd - Ponies in the surf and Mark Schwaber (solo) at Night Owl Records - Free show! - Easthampton, MA
There. Now; a vent.
Pictured above are 2 dogs and myself. The one putting his paw on me is Scooter (our baby boy). The one in the foreground is Jen's friends dog. The dogs name is Butchie. She is about 6 months older than Scooter (who's just about 5 years old) and about 1/3 the size. Scooter likes to eat, apparantly. I joked with Alex (Butchie's mom) that Scooter takes dumps that are bigger than Butchie. Anyway, Alex adopted her about 2 years ago. She loves her madly. I was with this dog for about 3 hours and fell completely in love. It took a little while for Butchie to come around to me though. I found out that she's still quite afraid of men. Turns out that her last owner abused her. I won't go into details. Luckily, I was able to swoon her and we were best buddies relatively fast. I did notice her shaking visibly though when another male approached. Luckily, it took Scooter about 10 minutes to completely cling to us. He's an unscarred, wonderful boy. I never realized how lucky we were. I mean, I know we're blessed to have such a great dog but after hearing Butchie's story it just reaffirmed that someone was on our side with our adoption.
I would like to go on record, publicly. If you mistreat or abuse your animals I believe that you are the lowest form of life on earth. I don't condone or endorse violence but honestly, I see nothing wrong with taking a baseball bat to the head of any insipid, spineless fuck that ever does that to a dog. Or cat. Or anything. Not too PC? Fine. I don't care. It's part of my belief system. If you are wronging someone/something then expect to be wronged yourself. I will forever defend that which I love. If you read this and know anyone who treats animals this way please intervene. It's for everyones benefit.
Now, get off the computer and hug your pet.

The whisper that you can't hear

2005-03-23T14:42:00.000-05:00

dinner

Michael Lemieux is an amazing cook. He was with Jose, JJ and myself in upstate NY at the home of Michael Merenda and Ruth Ungar. We started recording the new Nuclear Waste Management Club CD. What a great time. Wood stoves and amazing food. JJ and I did 12 songs in a day and a half. I've since heard that the other folks involved (Peyton and Anne Pinkerton, Scott Hall and obviously, Jose) did stellar jobs on their parts as well. I can't wait to hear it.

SJ
I fell in love with the film Lost in Translation while I was there too. I didn't like it all that much when Jen and I went to see it in the theater. I think I had a stick up my ass about Bill Murray at the time. Don't get me wrong, I love him. Think he's one of the most gifted character actors in the business. It just seemed like he had played that roll only months before that film came out and I was just bitter. All right Bill, we get it. Enough. Anyway, I found the beauty in it this time. Scarlett Johansson (whos raging talent equals her senseless beauty) is the next Audrey Hepburn in my opinion. I really felt connected to their struggle. What a beautiful ending. The whisper that you can't hear. For years I've been trying to write songs that capture the feelings that a film like that did. Space, lonliness, loss, love, chance, risk. I don't know if I ever have captured it...or if I ever will. But it is most certainly inspiring. Jose was really happy that I came around. It's one of his favorites.
Off to Boston tonight to play a Lo Fine show. Springfield tomorrow at Shakago's with myself solo, Lo Fine, Space Captain and Running with Karma. I'm excited about that. I love Springfield. It too often gets shunned by valley folk.
Thanks to all who are throwing band names around. There's been some great ones. I'm still struggling so keep them coming if you don't mind.

Jose running the vivid show

JJ recording

PACE

2005-03-13T15:44:00.000-05:00

PACE - March 11th, 2005

The PACE show was amazing. Again. Thanks so much to all who came. J Johnson, Kevin O'Rourke and Matt Sutton were all mesmerizing. My backing band makes me look better than I really am. Such great players, and people. That's it. We all decided. We're going to do this whole band thing a lot more often. They're all right, it sounds too good to just do twice a year. I'll keep you posted as to when it will happen again. We discussed another local show in the late spring as well as shows in Boston, NYC, Provincetown, Portland and Vermont. We'll see. There's some pictures from the night below (thanks to Kevin Smith and Jen Campbell).
So. I'm going to hold a contest through this blog. See; I feel really silly just having my name be the thing that is displayed when I'm performing with a full band. But, I also absolutely despise the thought of coming up with a band name. So. I need you all to start leaving proposed band names in the comments section for me. If you have 10 ideas don't be shy, send them all. The winner will get to come see my shows (solo or with the band) for an entire year. That's right, a full year of "guest list" privileges. No, that does not mean you get the free beer that I don't drink at the aforementioned shows.
By the way, Jen just finished one thing and started another. She finished a big, autumn-orange blanket for Scooter. He absolutely loves it (I think he's as sick of winter as the rest of us are). She started rehearsing for a play that she's really excited about. It's called "Misery Loves Breakfast" and she has one of the leads. It's going to be at Thornes Marketplace (on the third floor) on May 6th, 7th, 13th and 14th. Kelsey Flynn is also in it and she's wildly talented.
Hmmmm, maybe my first pick for a band name is
A BIG AUTUMN-ORANGE BLANKET FOR SCOOTER
Ok...maybe not

Paul Kochanski and Matt Cullen

Anne Pinkerton

J Johnson (National Carpet)

Kevin O'Rourke (Lo Fine)

Matt Sutton (The Malarkies)

Erika Kent and I voicing our collective opinion of winter

loobie and me.

2005-03-05T16:15:00.000-05:00

momma me and baby lou year

It's only one day after the 2 shows I got to play with Lou Barlow (www.loobiecore.com) and already I miss it. The first night was at the Middle East in Cambridge, MA. Sold out. Anne Pinkerton (the most talented singer I've ever worked with) joined me for both shows. Chris Brokaw (The New Year, Come, Consanant, Lemonheads) played as well. My beautiful girlfriend Jen joined us on the trip. The three of us arrived in Boston around 7. Lou was on stage, soundchecking. He played a 4 string steel string and a nylon string guitar. He also had all kinds of loop pedals and this old moog type keyboard. Chris Brokaw arrived around the same time that we did. It was nice to chat with him. He also played at Night Owl so this was like a Night Owl on wheels type of event. I'll tell you, I've never been treated better than I was at the Middle East. The 2 sound guys (Dave and...oh shit, I forgot his name) were stellar. Real helpful and down to earth. Anne and I got a real live soundcheck where we got to try songs with both the guitars I brought. Anne even had her own monitor mix. I mention this only because these things are rare and cherished for the artists who don't have any monitary backing (translated: no major label money). Jen went out and grabbed us pizza (before she sold merchandise for Lou, Chris and myself...which she seemed pretty happy about) while we checked. Then they opened the doors and within minutes the place was packed. I could barely make it to the bar to grab a soda. Needless to say the room was filled with conversation and I started to get a little nervous that it would stay that way while we were playing. Anne and I took our places and I said "hello" into the mic and the needle came off the record. Silence. Absolute silence. It was amazing. The crowd was so sweet and interested. They listen to, and loudly applauded, every song we did. Anne sang beautifully and I guess I played pretty well. We stepped off stage and for the first time in my life I felt famous. People were sheepishly introducing themselves and a little afraid of me it seemed. We sold a bunch of CD's and made some new friends. I have to say, if that's what it's like to be famous I guess it's not so bad. But it's not like I reached David Ortiz status (although I did eat 5 huge slices of pizza) but it was something. I was in love with the fact that we went over so well. I was so grateful to Lou for letting us open the show. I wondered what he thought of it. He was sitting with Jen at the merch table when I arrived and he was completely blown away. He said it was the best thing he'd ever heard me do. He thought it was utterly amazing in every way. I almost cried. It means so much coming from someone who I not only look up to but I also know how seriously he takes music. It's everything to him. And he's VERY critical. What a HUGE compliment. Lou walked away and I asked Jen what she thought. She said it was great but she wasn't sure she heard all of it because Lou was going on and on about how great I sounded. I almost cried again. Not just because of Lou's review but more importantly about how utterly in love I am. Jen is truly my best friend. I never could've imagined that I'd be lucky enough to be with someone like her. What a great, late night. Chris played a great set of mostly guitar instrumentals (great player by the way). Lou was amazing. Intimate. Historic. Hilarious, and most of all, wonderfully alive. In my opinion he is one of the most important songwriters of our time. Period.
We had a chance to play at the Iron Horse the next night. It was just Lou and Anne and I. It was all the things that the middle east was. A little more talking though (I swear it must be in the fucking water in that town). I was invited on stage to sing and play guitar on Lou's cover of Ratt's "Round and Round". Good stuff. It was a wonderful night filled with wonderful friends and family. Lou's dad, John paid me a HUGE compliment at the end of the night. Again, tears. It's overwhelming to be born again musically. Jen and J Vaughn and I went home after the parade and I broke a pen and calculator to see how Jen and Anne and I could afford to go on tour. Just a pipe dream really, but a fun one. Thanks to all who were there. Hopefully we'll see you on March 11th at PACE. For more info go here www.nightowlrecords.net

me and Anne Pinkerton - March 3rd 2005 at the Iron Horse

Open letter to Stewart O'Nan

2005-02-24T19:50:00.000-05:00

Theodore Samuel Williams

For all of those who don't know, the Red Sox won the world series this year. You might have heard about it. Unless you live under a rock, or in New York...which is inherently the same thing. A book entitled "Faithful" was released shortly after the championship. It was written by Stephen King and Stewart O'Nan. It's a really boring read. Even for a diehard fan like me. For example, I don't need to relive every at-bat of every game. I was there. I saw them too. I most certainly don't need to have 1 of the 4 men (My father, Miles Davis, Ted Williams, Jackie Robinson in case you were wondering) pulled from grace. I wrote this letter to Stewart O'Nan. I could really care less what he thinks of me. I just wanted him to know what Ted Williams meant to me.

Mr. O'Nan,
First of all, congratulations. Your book "Faithful" has topped the best sellers list all over New England. I find it to be childlike fun and gleeful at best. A little self-serving and boring at its worst. What the hell do I know though? I'm just a diehard fan like you. What a year, huh? What a year.
That being said, I have a major bone to pick with you about your snippet on the Ted Williams statue that stands outside of Fenway Park. Let me first say that Ted Williams is a personal hero of mine, so I might be a little punchy about the subject. I refer you to page 57:
It's uninspired and uninspiring, a tall man stooping to set his oversized cap on a little bronze kid's head. It's not that Ted didn't love kids (his work with the Jimmy Fund is a great legacy), it's just that I expected something more dynamic for the greatest hitter that ever lived...This Williams is static and dull and carries none of the kid's personality. He could be any Norman Rockwell shmoo making nice with the little tyke. page 57 of FAITHFUL (Stewart O'Nan/Stephen King)
I am sickened by these comments. I happen to completely disagree with you. When I saw the statue for the first time I was moved to tears. Have you read anything of William's life? If you haven't I recommend you start with "Hitter". You're a writer and a life long Sox fan, you must have read it. Right? I assume that you know all about his time as a fighter pilot in both WW2 and Korea. You know that he was shot down in Korea, barely escaping with his life. You must know of his dedication to his own children. Granted, he might have had trouble in the beginning but he soon made himself into the man that we all read about. You mention his work with the Jimmy Fund. You know of his greatness as a hitter and icon in Boston sports. You know of his famous speech at his Hall of Fame induction where he pleaded the members of Baseball's hierarchy to right the wrong of Shoeless Joe Jackson and more importantly for his yearning to have them induct the many players from the Negro Leagues who had long been overlooked by the Hall. He was the first to make that public call, in 1960. Well before the civil rights movement. You know of his deep passion for fishing. You know of his volatile relationship with the press. You know that he never tipped his cap to the fans, you might also know that he spit at them during one game. You know that he deeply regreted this for the rest of his life. Justifing it by saying that it was the press that he disliked and not the fans. You saw him honored at the 1999 All-star game at Fenway. You saw him wipe the tears from his eyes. You know that he thought that Willie Mays was the greatest player to ever play the game. Let me tell you a few things that you might not have known.
He had a dog late in life. Here's a personal note about that from Ted himself.
...Slugger, my dalmation, my friend. He's gone now. We tried our damnedest to keep him around, gave him the best food, tried everything. But it was finally his time. It hurts like hell to think of him. God, I miss that little fellow.
He had a dear friend named Tricia Miranti. She'd been in a wheelchair from age 5. They met when he started doing rehab for his second stroke in 1994.
...We've made some progress together, shared some laughs, had some good times. I'm glad I've had the chance to get to know her. A terrific person. A fighter. She's in college now. I'm proud of that, proud of her.
Most importantly, in 1999 Ted had a reunion with Einer Gustafson. The original "Jimmy" in the Jimmy Fund.
...There's been alot of Jimmys since. I wish none of them ever had to be Jimmys, dammit, but I'm glad we've done what we could to help. Geez, I wish we could have done more!
I hope you can understand why I feel you're out of line with your comments about that statue. I find it to be private and stunning. Strong and willing. A picture perfect moment of American silence. Speaking the loudest of words and emotions with the simplest of offerings. I see ALL of Ted Williams in that statue. I wish you did. I wish you weren't so caught up in basehits. You might be able to see a whole lot more in life.
Regards,
Mark Schwaber

www.neverheardofthem.com

2005-02-23T17:01:00.000-05:00

photo by Henning Ohlenbusch

I did it. Well, almost. I downloaded free pro tools today. Bought a microphone preamp off of ebay and just need one more mic cable to have a 8 track demo studio on Jen's laptop at our house. I can finally make demos at home. It's been so hard writing music without a recorder. I had to teach Jen a piano part to one of my new songs just so I could hear what it sounded like outside of my head. A large amount of thanks goes to Karl Ourand www.bark-media.com for steering me in the right direction with this stuff. Karl has a massive knowledge of all things recording. I appreciate him sitting through my questions like "How do I plug a microphone into a computer?" and "What the hell does preamp mean anyway?". I have 8 or so songs that are done for my next record. I'll even give you guys a sneak peek soon too. My good friend, J Johnson (National Carpet) has started a great new website www.neverheardofthem.com . This will be THE place to hear new bands from all over the country. He's already got a ton of great bands from Massachusetts on there and is trying to get people in different cities to review/critique bands from their respective areas that are unjustly unsung. Should be a great way to network for folks. Swap shows/CD's...you know. Check it out if you have a band that you think should be heard. J is one of the nicest guys going. Anyway...he's going to post a song of mine on his site soon that won't be on any other release. It's a live performance of a song called "Forever every evening". The recording was done by Chris Fortin at a Flywheel show I did back in December. I wrote that song in tribute to the late Elliott Smith.

the proclamation

2005-02-22T16:21:00.000-05:00

Kevin O'Rourke and me. Photo by henning ohlenbusch

Yes, as a matter of fact, we are the fucking Proclaimers. OK? Enough.
Been playing some really fun shows lately. Had a great time in Vermont last week with Henning www.schoolforthedead.com and Kevin www.lofine.com. What great songwriters they are. Kevin's voice stops rooms dead. Henning's wit and melody makes the room alive again, in all the right ways. Anne Pinkerton (The Speak) and I are rehearsing for two shows that we're doing as a duo with Lou Barlow. Can't wait. She's such a smart singer. So creative. I finally booked some studio time with Jose Ayerve www.spousemusic.com to record some of my new record. We're starting it in April. Also booked some time with Mark Alan Miller www.slaughterhousestudio.com to do some overdubs/vocals/mixing. Ruth Keating www.idamusic.com and www.themalarkies.com is coming up from NYC to play some drums. Anne will sing. Jose will play. JJ O'Connell will play. Joel Stroetzal www.killswitchengage.com will play. Damn, I might as well stay home. For a complete list of shows I have coming up, and some songs too, please check out this site www.myspace.com/markschwaber1
Jen and I went to Petco on Sunday. We went to get dog food. We left with a recipt that said $94.93 on it. I spoil the hell out of that little guy. This picture will make you understand. How can I not spoil him?

scooter

me vs. nyc

2005-02-16T14:41:00.000-05:00

.

Just back from that little, sleepy town called New York. Played a show at the Knitting Factory with Lo Fine. It was a great event. Our dear friends Lori and Matthew have their own poetry press called "Verse Press" and we were performing as part of a nationwide valentine's day party that they were having in celebration of their great new book/compilation CD. Read all about it here : www.versepress.org
The Malarkies (my favorite band), Mark Mulcahy and Jason from Songs;Ohia all played as well. I was really happy for Matthew and Lori, the night seemed to be a complete success.
That being said, I hate NY. Absolutely despise it. I appreciate the fact that it's a microcosm of the world. Every ethnicity living together, working together and eating together. That's great. Sadly, what I feel truly matters in NY is commerce. Plain and unadulterated capitalism at its most rampant (there are monsterous billboards on the Westside Highway that are TV screens playing commercials; that's safe). I don't see the romance, I see the speed. I don't see the kind and caring, I see the self-absorbed and frightened. I don't hear the sweet sounds of bebop or the fire of noise bands and artrock, I hear everything at once. Sirens and horns and cars and cell phoners. I never, ever feel comfortable. As soon as I leave my town for NYC I find myself thinking (sometimes within minutes of departure) of when I can return home.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not some scaredy cat. There are other cities that I love. Boston. Flagstaff. Phoenix. Portland, Maine. I hear Chicago is amazing. I can handle the intimidation of a place of that magnitude. I'd just rather not. Since I have that option, then why should I lie to myself and pretend that it's an important place to me? I won't do that. I hope you love the city, I just don't. Fuck NYC. Go Sox.

shadows fold

2005-02-12T16:53:00.000-05:00

Matt

Thanks to old friend Matt Bachand of Shadows Fall (www.shadowsfallrocks.com) for giving me all those Ben Folds online only e.p.'s that I've been dying to hear. I've been listening to them non-stop. Jesus, it's metal month for me.

I know jack

2005-02-12T14:50:00.000-05:00

.

I just picked up this new documentary by Ken Burns. I am a huge sports fan. Strangely, I knew very little of this man. A true Shakespearian/American tragedy. Glorious and sickening. Sad and enthralling. This is a story that everyone should know.
I also picked up a copy of "Watership Down" by Richard Adams. I can't believe I never read this. In my opinion it's the coolest book title ever. I must have looked like a freak walking out of that store with a book with a bunny on the cover and a DVD with a giant boxer on the front.
The show with Nuclear Waste and The Winterpills at the Apollo was a wonderful time. What a great listening room. I wish I had recorded the show. Peyton Pinkerton (www.furnacerock.com) was borderline mad at me for not doing so. I had a wonderul time playing bass with the NWMC as well...at least until my bass decided to go to bed.
Here's some new stuff:
Friday, March 11th - PACE - Easthamtpon, MA w/Matt Sutton of www.themalarkies.com
Friday, March 18th - Toad - Cambridge, MA w/Kevin O'Rourke + Fancy Trash
Thursday, March 24th - Shakago's - Springfield, MA w/Running with Karma, Lo Fine, Space Captain

Ida vs. SFTD

2005-02-05T11:13:00.000-05:00

Ruth

Great news. Ruth Keating (www.themalarkies.com) has joined Ida. (www.idamusic.com). Ruth (seated, left)is one of the most amazing drummers on earth and The Malarkies are one of my favorite bands ever. Luckily, I'm stealing her for a couple of days in April to play on my next record. I'm so happy for her.
Went to see School For The Dead last night. I've never heard the Elevens sound so good. They were crystal clear and tight as a drum. I was completely impressed. I think Max is a great bass player but Dave Trenholm stepped right in flawlessly. Read more about this great band here www.schoolforthedead.com
I really hope the Eagles kill the Patriots in the Super Bowl. With the exception of Matt Cullen, Tim Lis and Eric Poulin I pretty much can't stand Pats fans anymore. They sound like Yankee fans.

photo man

2005-02-04T19:41:00.000-05:00

two years and thirty minutes

This is the photo that Henning Ohlenbusch of the great band School For The Dead (www.schoolforthedead.com) took that I then swiped (with permission) for my CD cover. It's available here:
www.cdbaby.com
www.insound.com
www.pigeonrecords.com
www.nightowlrecords.net

Yes, I just learned how to put pictures on here...expect more, I guess.

things i've learned

2005-02-03T19:44:00.000-05:00

.

We just finished a 4 day jaunt with Spouse. Much fun. Things we learned:
- JJ can't count past 4 (he's a drummer).
- Jose is a racist skinhead. Well, since he's Columbian, gay and part Jewish he's gonna have one hell of a rough ride.
- At 2 in the morning on Thursday night/Friday morning it was 18 below zero in Brunswick, ME. That is just not alot of fun.
- Watching the movie Eurotrip was a very bad idea.
- Playing ping pong against either Jose or Sean Eric is, again, a bad idea.
- When a Mexican fishing boat worker is hammered and babbling to the owners of a Thai restaurant and they're both getting pissed because neither speaks the others language it is best not to get involved.
- When a man named Daryl introduces himself to strangers as "James Earl Jones" you just go right ahead and let him.
- The List Exsists guys are about the sweetest we've met. A great band too.
- There will just never be a winner in the "straight-guy-asks-the-gay-guy-a-question/gay-guy-asks-the-straight-guy-a-question" quiz game. For example, I have no fucking idea what color *puce* is and Jose couldn't have been further from knowing what wedges are in a golf bag.
- Naomi Hamby bought a new apartment in NYC! Congrats!
- Jose is my favorite songwriter. Well, I already knew that, just thought it should be repeated.
- Making JJ laugh is one of my favorite things to do. I miss my real brother like hell. JJ is the only person that I know that helps fill that void.

I also learned that my next record is coming together nicely. Looks like we'll be recording the bulk of it at Night Owl with Jose. Ruth Keating (The Malarkies - Ida), Joel Stroetzal (Killswitch Engage), Flora Reed (The Winterpills), Anne Viebig (The Speak) and JJ are all confirmed for the session. I can't wait. Until then, go to the Apollo Grill on February 10th to see NUCLEAR WASTE MANAGEMENT CLUB, THE WINTERPILLS and little ol' me.

killswitch

2005-01-25T18:15:00.000-05:00

joel

My dear friend Joel is leaping into new places. His band (www.killswitchengage.com) has been nominated for a grammy. They're nominated for best metal act or somesuchthing. If there were any justice in the world they'd win.
Joel was at my house about 6 months ago or so to listen to my new record. Just sat there. Listening. After every song he would give great, bold, well thought out compliments. He just wanted to hear my stuff. REALLY wanted to hear it. To get inside it. Afterwords we talked about gear and musicality. Then we reminised about the time we would sit around together (we both used to teach guitar at the same shop) and reharmonize songs just to make us laugh our asses off. Our personal favorite was Led Zeppelin's "Stairway to Heaven". We took every major chord and made it minor and vice versa. I remember writing "you won't see me cloudy in your sky" in the waiting room of that shop. I had scribbled the words on the back of a flyer. It was totally silly. Joel comes up and reads them and loves it. You just wrote a little pop love song that talks about vikings and elves and beer? I recently turned him on to Robbie Fulks and Elliott Smith. He also told me that my CD is on constantly in their tour bus. Dude, lets get lunch...I'm on my way up and I've got my new CD...or...I've got my new guitar I want you to play...or...I've burned a bunch of CD's for you. When he met my father he addressed him as "Sir". They don't make people much better than this guy.
Joel has made me young again. Made me realize that life is electric and swirling. Made me realize that there are no boundries. Metal. Pop. Jazz. It's all about the fucking passion. A hardcore/punk song can be just one voice and one guitar. It's about the spirit. It's about the intensity. It's about being genuine. You've given me more than I could ever give you. Thanks. Thanks for making me a better person.

broken stuff

2005-01-15T13:57:00.000-05:00

.

My favorite album title of all time is by a band that I actually don't really think I know much by. And what I've heard leaves little impression. The band is Piebald. The title?
"If it weren't for venitian blinds it would be curtains for us all"
I mention this for no reason. It just makes me laugh everytime. Been spending the last few days alienating my girlfriend and dog. I've had my head so deep in playing music that it's been hard to do anything other than eat or sleep. I'm getting frustrated with the lack of equipment that I have. I have never owned a recording device of any sort. Well, I had a hand held tape recorder and 2 years ago I bought a barely working cassette 4 track. I've never owned a drumset or had one in my possession for more than a couple of days. I don't own a bass or bass amp. No PA. One guitar amp that's currently broken. I think it's the fuse. And the reverb box is shattered into pieces. I own a Ephiphone ES335 reissue that's marginal at best. 2 broken guitars, a 1985 Washburn (useless when working) and 1989 Fender Strat that's usable for a beginner, I guess. I also have a beautiful nylon acoustic/electric bought for me by Jose Ayerve (www.joseayerve.com) in Argentina. A 1972 Yamaha box steel string and a Samick acoustic that's kind of a beater but I still use it from time to time. But that's sad to me. I've been playing music for 20 years and that's all I have. Broken shit. I need to record my next record. I want to do it myself and right now, I can't. Why? Priorities are completely fucked up on most days. I spend 75 dollars on books, 100 dollars on movies and nothing on music equipment. Well, maybe I buy a set of strings. I need to stop. I need to buy recording gear. I'm using this rant as a motivator. I'm going to go look up recorders right now. Goddammit.

shows this week

2005-01-12T15:29:00.000-05:00

I'm playing a couple of shows this week that should be much fun:
Saturday, January 15th at the Brass Cat - NEW RADIANT STORM KING, NATIONAL CARPET and MARK SCHWABER
Saturday, January 22nd at PACE - THE WINTERPILLS and MARK SCHWABER
Hope you can make it out.

dimebag

2005-01-08T16:39:00.000-05:00

.

I'm just going to pretend that I didn't have the goddamn flu for the last 4 days. Just gonna pretend that didn't happen...
I'm getting real close to having another record written. I think. I've got 4 finished songs and 3 or 4 that just need lyrics and some tweeking. I haven't started to record a lick of it yet. I'm not really sure what I'm going to do about that. I kind of want to do it at home. It's going to be pretty invovled in its simplicity and will take alot of time I fear. Which means I couldn't afford to do it in a studio. Actually, I don't think I want to anyway. Not this time at least. These songs are lyrically traumatic. I need to be alone with them I think. Plus, the idea of doing it myself means that I can't blame anyone when I'm done. Not that I ever would anyway. I would like to play most of the instruments myself. I know that's completely meglomatic but fuck it. I've always wanted to do it so why not? I'm hoping that a few people that I really respect will lend their talents to it though. Flora Reed, Rene from Petulant Child, Jose Ayerve, Philip Price, Joel from Killswitch Engage and maybe Ken Mauri when he comes to visit again. I don't know, it's all in my head. Hopefully it will come out lucid enough.
I've sold over 100 copies of my solo record which I know doesn't sound like much but since I rarely play anywhere I'm pretty happy with it. I'm not out to make a living at this. I just want to be happy with what I create and share it with those that might be interested. You can find my CD here www.cdbaby.com I'm really proud to say that it's getting really good reviews too. A great one from www.masslive.com, from Shut Eye Records in Georgia and I even made a top 11 list. Top 11 list? Yes, I'm 11 on Philip Price's records of the year. www.philipprice.com That is so flattering. I would rather be # 40 on his list than #1 on many other people's lists.
Anyway, all of these things inspire me to keep doing this. Well, it's one of the many things at least. In my head I'm feeling that I'll have a new record out (of some sort) by the fall of 2005. I think that's pretty realistic. Jose and Pigeon Records are so kind to put out my records knowing that I'm not this gigging machine. They really appreciate the music more than the dollar. I am forever thankful for that.
On another musical note, I had a chance to meet Dimebag Darrell back in 1990 or so. Pantera played at Katina's in Hadley and after the show those guys were so sweet to us. I remember Dimebag thinking I was the coolest kid because I had a Planters Peanuts jar filled with whiskey that I drank all night at the show. I was not yet 21. Months later I ran into Vinnie Paul (the drummer and Dimebag's brother) at the Holyoke Mall. He remembered my name and invited me to that nights show they were doing at the Springfield Civic Center. I didn't want to go because I hated Skid Row for whom they were opening. What a great bunch of guys. No Devil rock, no shitty metal misogonysts, no racist garbage just really great and giving guys that loved music so damn deeply. And they never took anything for granted. I'm so sorry Dimebag met this sick and disturbing demise. Look at the way he lead his life, not the way it so tragically ended. My deepest condolences to Vinnie and the rest of his family.

january shows

2004-12-31T13:29:00.000-05:00

Here's some shows for January 2005:
January 7th - Lo Fine and The Figments @ The Living Room in NYC
January 15th - New Radiant Storm King and Mark Schwaber and National Carpet @ The Brass Cat in Easthampton, MA
January 22nd - The Winterpills and Mark Schwaber @ PACE in Easthampton, MA www.pioneerarts.org
January 27th - Spouse @ Bowdoin College in Brunswick, ME w/the list exists
January 28th - Spouse @ Space in Portland, ME w/the list exists
January 29th - Spouse @ The Brass Cat in Easthampton, MA w/RNC and Hayseed Chrome
January 30th - Spouse @ Sin-E in NYC w/the list exists
For more info on these shows check out these sites:
www.hampmusic.com
www.pigeonrecords.com

2004

2004-12-30T19:11:00.000-05:00

The last few days have been pretty peaceful. Sort of like the eye of the storm. The chaos of the Christmas season at the store (www.nightowlrecords.net) and the bar (The Brass Cat) died down and next week begins a new year of many shows and many responsibilities. Jen and I got to spend some great time together recently. We went to see the new Wes Anderson movie on Tuesday. It was great. Either you like his films or you don't. I do. Last night was a wonderful night of hanging on the couch and talking/eating/knitting/reading/more talking. Much needed. This morning was kinda creepy though, I was pulled from sleep by Jen and Scooter. She told me to hug my dog. I was wondering why she would tell me this, since it's more like a reflex for me to do so and not something that usually needs instigating. Then she was in tears telling me a story about how Scoot got off his leash on his morning walk and walked about 25 feet out onto the pond near our house. She thought for sure that he was going to fall through the thin ice. Jesus, I can only imagine what she must have gone through. Scooter was none the wiser though, all just business as usual for him. Jen said that all that kept going through her mind in those split seconds was *I can't let anything happen to this dog, Mark will die*. I love her.
Anyway, I've been listening to the new Lou Barlow CD this past week. It's called "EMOH" and it's coming out pretty soon on Merge. He was nice enough to send me a couple of copies. I was lucky enough to play on a song that's on it. Regardless of my playing on it and us being such good friends I can objectively say that it is a wonderful record. One of the best I've heard this year. It's rich, smart and beautiful. The 4th song on it makes me so jealous that I almost don't want to write songs anymore. Since it doesn't come out until 2005 I guess I can't include it on my best of list for 2004. Not that you really give a shit; nor should you, but here's a list of my favorite things of 2004:
Music:
1)Spouse - are you gonna kiss or wave goodbye?
2)Iron and Wine - our endless numbered days
3)Elliott Smith - from a basement on a hill
4)Tears For Fears - everybody loves a happy ending
5)Killswitch Engage - the end of heartache
Movies:
1)Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
2)Big Fish
3)The Village
4)Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events
5)Fahrenheit 911
Is the 2004 World Series DVD considered a movie? If it is then it's my favorite movie of all time. Happy new year to all.

Killing Nazi's on Christmas

2004-12-28T16:46:00.000-05:00

I love Christmas. I really do. I love my family and my friends so why shouldn't I? I love giving gifts to people. I really do. I would love to be finacially fit enough to buy things for those I love everyday. Anyway, just thought I'd get that out of the way.
My first Christmas present was a couple of days before when the Sox resigned Varitek to a 4 year deal. Excellent. Wade Miller, Matt Clement, Edgar Renteria, David Wells, Matt Mantei, John Halama...it's been a great off-season for the Sox Nation. Sadly, since my heroes finally won the world series I feel a little less enclined to give a shit. I waited my whole life to see them win it and when they did it was cathartic and wrenching and lovely. Everything I thought it would be. I cried in my father's arms as Minky caught the flip from Foulke. I wouldn't change a moment of it. Down 0-3 to the Yanks...unreal. What a story to forever tell.
Now, that being said, I think I'm pretty much all set with really caring about professional sports as deeply as I have in the past. It's not because I don't know what to do with myself now that the Sox have won it, that's the dumbest thing I've ever heard. It's because of the sad reality of pro athletes giving about as much a shit about the team/city that they play for as you care about what color your pencil is. Tactless mercinaries they are. Just look at how many folks won't be there to get their rings on opening day 2005. No Pedro, Lowe, Cabrerra, Kapler, Roberts and most likely Reese and Minky. Sad. Sick. All because of money. Oh well, guess that will free up more time to do the things I really should, and want, to do.
Sorry about the Sox tangent, that just happens to me and I can't stop. Christmas was great. I got Jen a keyboard that she seems very happy with. She has the longest, thinnest most beautiful fingers...it's like they're built for playing piano. Or being a hand model. But that just sounds aggravating. Scooter got a million toys and treats and at the end of his long, well traveled day just collapsed on the couch and snored like a drunk. I got my parents a DVD player and a bunch of DVD's. My Mom is psyched because it also shows CD-roms that have pictures. My brother sent a bunch of photos from his new home in Phoenix, AZ. The only sad, strange part of the day was that my brother wasn't there. I got a thumb piano and the new Stephen King book about the Sox 2004 season. I also got a video game for our playstation 2 ( I usually only play sports games) called Call of Duty. I don't know when World War 2 got so hip but apparantly it has. Gotta say, I take great joy in killing Nazi's on Christmas night.

Ron Passerello

2004-12-21T20:04:00.000-05:00

I'm so happy. I wrote a song yesterday. First time in months. I worked at the Brass Cat at night and had a good time regardless of the stunning loss by the Pats. Have to admit to you all, I'm a born and raised New York Giants fan so I wasn't really in the "stunned" category since I don't really care. My dear old friend Ron Passerello came by and spent the night at the bar. He crashed with us (Jen and I) overnight and got to hear my new record for the first time, and meet our lovely boy Scooter (our 40 pound beagle). Ron is one of the sweetest people on Earth. I can truly say that of all the people that I've ever met Ronnie is completely at peace with himself more so than anyone I know. He has been since I've known him, which dates back to sometime in 1987. He moved to Massachusetts from Panama that year. He spoke broken English but spoke volumes of life. Hands down, the most talented artist (drawing/painting) that I've EVER seen. Absolutely mindblowing work. He recently moved back to his parents in Maine. He had a 5 or 6 year stint in San Francisco. I guess the booze really caught up with him so he quit and moved back east. I can really relate. I haven't had a drop of booze in almost 3 years. We shared a million drunken evenings over the course of the time we hung out. We lived together (with 2 other guys too) from 1994-1996. Complete chaos. Walking to the Hotel Westfield in the snow, waking up our friend Al on the roof (he couldn't find an empty room at a party), listening to Ron read from the Bible while completely hammered, going to countless hardcore shows...shit, I could go on forever. He's in AA now and loving it. I chose not to go that root because of some political and ethical differences that I have with them but it's working for Ron. That's the beauty of this guy. I can sit and rattle off how much I hate AA to the kid and he just listens and then finishes by saying that he completely respects my opinions. Don't get me wrong, the guy will never be a prude. He's one of the funniest people on the face of the earth. I can't count the tears I've shed and stomach aches I've had from some moments with him. I'm really going to work hard at getting him some shows at art galleries down here. His stuff needs to be seen. He should be making a living off of his talents. If everyone had a chance to spend one night hanging with Ron there wouldn't be world peace or eternal joy but their lives would most certainly be better for it. I'll keep you abreast to any gallery shows he might have. Hopefully you could come see his work and say hello to him. You just might be better for it. I know I most certainly am.

terrible sounding word

2004-12-01T13:32:00.000-05:00

Blog.
I feel like I should be ordering some coffee drink from Main St. in Northampton. Riding my bike to the bookstore at noon and laughing at the mentally crippled man who's buying the local paper for his news. That's not news, man! That's censored and encoded republican ballwashing! Then I would ride my bike home and turn on my Bose.
Blogging.
I feel like I should be buying tickets to see Dylan and smirking at the minions that ride the blue collar train. Sitting in the parking garage inside my Subaru with heated seats contemplating what the American people could be thinking? All those religious zealots voting for that animal? Then I would go pick up my kids in their 80 dollar jackets and bring them to violin lessons. I would still be wondering what was wrong with the world.
Blogger.
I feel like I should be prejudice against anyone who's not on my side. I should preach that all will end well with peace and intellect but simultaneously allienate and disenfranchise any differing opinions as meek and sterile. I feel like I should surround myself with the whitest people I know and preach diversity.
I'm a 21st century man.
I write on da compuder.
People care what I think.
I'm a songwriter.
I'm in a seperate class.
I live simply.
I have over 50 DVD's.
I make my own sneakers.
I am the great American crux.
I am the catalyst of success.
Fuck Bob Dylan.
Long live Lee Ving.

the shakes

2004-11-26T20:35:00.000-05:00

One of my closest friends, the Doc and I have our own handshake. Maybe we'll try to make it catch on but for now it's just ours. We hit the back of one of our hands together twice and then point at each other with both hands and say *bitches* in the highest voice possible. Believe it or not, I'm 32.
Oh yeah, my brother is home for the holidays. I'm very excited about that. I miss him like crazy. He moved to Phoenix back in May and is probably going to come home once a year for awhile.

grammys

2004-11-20T18:45:00.000-05:00

I just found out that my songs on Garageband.com have won some awards. Pretty funny stuff...here it is:

GHOSTING
#19 Grooviest rhythm in Indie-Rock, All-time
Most rocking track in Alternative - Week of June 21, 2004
WATERGUN
Track of the day in Alternative - May 8th, 2004
#7 Feel good track in Indie Rock, All-time
Feel good track in Alternative - Week of July 5th, 2004
DIGNITY IN DEATH
#3 Best male vocals in Indie-Rock, All-time
#1 Most bitter breakup song in Indie-Rock, All-time
#5 Most bitter breakup song in Alternative, All-time

I know there's a bit of confusion in this list. How can something be #1 and #5 simultaneously you ask? Well, I guess it's because the group "Indie-Rock" is substantially smaller than the all-encompassing group of "Alternative" or somesuchthing. Regardless of how silly this is it's still really flattering that people listened to and enjoyed my songs. I won't be that guy that says "that's all you can hope for man, if just one other person enjoys my songs..." because all that really matters to me is that I'm happy with what I commited to tape. I know that sounds selfish but come on, is there a more selfish thing in this world than performing some form of art? I'd be damned to think of another. So, thanks to those who listened, I really do appreciate it...it means that we have something in common as humans. As sonic friends. As sensory teammates. I take more comfort in that than "moving" people or whatever.

ear plugs

2004-11-19T20:22:00.000-05:00

I guess I should tell you all about some shows that I'm looking forward to:
November 24th - WARE RIVER CLUB and MARK SCHWABER @ the Red Cat in Holyoke, MA -$3
November 24th - SPOUSE @ the Apollo Grille in Easthampton, MA - donations
December 4th - MARK SCHWABER and THE SPEAK and many, many others. All day benefit for the food bank of Springfield @ The Flywheel in Easthampton, MA - donations of $ or cans of non-perishable food. www.flywheelarts.org
December 4th - ELLIOTT SMITH TRIBUTE @ Night Owl Records in Easthampton, MA - This tribute is being put on and run by a group of 10 or so Northampton High School students. 7PM - FREE - ALL AGES
www.nightowlrecords.net
December 17th - SPOUSE and LO FINE and MARK SCHWABER @ Bishop's Lounge in Northampton, MA - $3
December 18th - HOT BUTTERED ELVES @ The Brass Cat in Easthampton, MA. Christmas rock extraveganza featuring members of Spouse, Lo Fine, Ware River Club, Red Door Exchange, RNC and many more. $3 (All proceeds from the night go to the Toy Fund of Easthampton.)
December 31st - SPOUSE @ The Elevens in Northampton, MA - $5