January 2009



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.)


Reading a book by Jaques Barzun about 500 years of Western Cultural life. The Renaissance poet, Tasso, was imprisoned in a lunatic asylum for seven years… by his royal patron. Byron addressed the patron, Duke Ferrara, in an 1817 poem written from Tasso’s voice:

"I make a future temple of my present cell,
Which nations yet shall visit for my sake.
While thou, Ferrara, when no longer dwell
The ducal chiefs within thee, shalt fall down,
And crumbling piecemeal view thy hearthless halls–
A poets wreath shall be thine only crown,
A poet’s dungeon thy most far renown."

Byron, ‘The Lament of Tasso,’ 1817


I stopped in at Headgear to grab the files from December’s recording session. I haven’t heard the recordings since the day we recorded them. Maybe I oughtta just release them next week as-is. As a digital EP. Cause Krishna knows this next album’s been ‘as slow as molasses in January’.

(Sent from my Palm phone.)


In a warm windowless room in Wintertime.

(Sent from my Palm phone.)


(Sent from my Palm phone.)



(Sent from my Palm phone.)

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