January 2009



Writing song at Piano. Quick break for some reality TV. Back to piano. To TV. To Pro Tools to Piano to Notebook to Pro Tools to TV still at TV to Piano to Pro Tools
(Repeat x 4)
to iTunes to Mozart
to bed.
Victor: Draw.

(Sent from my Palm phone.)

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Boy this canal sure throws off some felony-grade stink.

I downloaded a 10 year-old Tipsy album today. It’s electronic candy. My favorite electronic candy of the last year is Girl Talk, the madcap mash-up maestro… who, incidentally, probably roots for the Steelers too.

(Sent from my Palm phone.)


Road salt and sunshine have mostly cleared the streets and sidewalks of all except ice patches and dirty slush, but there are still occassional patches of pristine snow to be found behind fences. Today I started planning for the February tour with Kathleen. Feels good. I haven’t performed live since my Australia trip a few months back, and lately I’ve been missing the touring high that results from the nightly shoot-up of music, and musicians, and people who leave the comfort of their homes to go experience live music.

(Sent from my Palm phone.)


Today, a reader of my blog expressed to me that she feels oft ‘cheated’ by my entries — namely, the entries in which I post a photo without accompanying words. So today marks the birth a new era. An era that is certain to last. For at least a week or two.

Today’s accompanying text:
How tickled am I that one of my favorite buildings in New York, once thronged with Red Hook shipbuilders seeking provisions, now contains artichokes and 12 packs of Coke and other things that I need to purchase regularly.

I mixed ‘Australia’ this morning — a quick working mix. I don’t know what kind of music this is. A wee bit Rock operatic perhaps.

(Sent from my Palm phone.)


I was shocked by how moved I was upon hearing the instrumental music prior to the presidential oath. On an historic day characterized by the utterance and consumption of countless noble words, it was, rather, the mute melodies, floating above the gathered masses, that seemed to carry the most undistilled Truths.

(Sent from my Palm phone.)


Worked on a rough mix of ‘Burnin” in my home studio today.

(Sent from my Palm phone.)


"Pittsburgh’s going to the,
Super Bowl"

from the ‘Ode of Martina McBride’
-Byron, 1817

(Sent from my Palm phone.)

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