Rainy day schedule.
Okay, kids. Line up for lunch. No, we're not going outside. Rainy day schedule today. Break out the coloring books and the tunafish sandwiches.
If you're anything like me, that was your favorite kind of lunch hour in grade school. No going out on the playground and putting up your dukes against whatever red neck wanted a piece of you that particular day. Why the reverie? Not sure. I guess all that rain beating down on the roof of the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill has made me think of some of the other sprawling, musty barns I've inhabited for years at a time. Other squat houses, apartments, schools, lean-to's ... hell, submarines, even. Don't knock it! It can rain all it wants, and no leaks (unless you opt for the screen door).
What's up this week? Just toiling away in the vineyards of Big Green-ville, scratching out weird new numbers, honking noisily into microphones, tapping away at Ned Trek scripts. Mostly just making stuff up on the fly - that's what we're best at. And when I say "best", I mean "not worst". Even Marvin (my personal robot assistant) gets into the spirit of honest creative toil once in a while, running his internal adding machine until spools of tickertape unravel from his nether regions. It's a marvelous ... or, rather, Marvin-lous sight to behold.
Some people (mostly derelicts along the curb outside the hammer mill) have asked if we're working on a new album. I have no answer to that. Matt and I just work, and then one day maybe an album appears. It's a kind of alchemy. I've described the process on this blog before, so I won't bore you with the details of our songwriting and recording methods. Suffice to say that it looks more random that it is, and yet still, it is fundamentally random ... and random-mentally fun. That latter part is what's important.
I'll keep you posted on our projects. Just enjoy your sandwiches ... and try to color within the lines. There's a good chap.
If you're anything like me, that was your favorite kind of lunch hour in grade school. No going out on the playground and putting up your dukes against whatever red neck wanted a piece of you that particular day. Why the reverie? Not sure. I guess all that rain beating down on the roof of the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill has made me think of some of the other sprawling, musty barns I've inhabited for years at a time. Other squat houses, apartments, schools, lean-to's ... hell, submarines, even. Don't knock it! It can rain all it wants, and no leaks (unless you opt for the screen door).
What's up this week? Just toiling away in the vineyards of Big Green-ville, scratching out weird new numbers, honking noisily into microphones, tapping away at Ned Trek scripts. Mostly just making stuff up on the fly - that's what we're best at. And when I say "best", I mean "not worst". Even Marvin (my personal robot assistant) gets into the spirit of honest creative toil once in a while, running his internal adding machine until spools of tickertape unravel from his nether regions. It's a marvelous ... or, rather, Marvin-lous sight to behold.
Some people (mostly derelicts along the curb outside the hammer mill) have asked if we're working on a new album. I have no answer to that. Matt and I just work, and then one day maybe an album appears. It's a kind of alchemy. I've described the process on this blog before, so I won't bore you with the details of our songwriting and recording methods. Suffice to say that it looks more random that it is, and yet still, it is fundamentally random ... and random-mentally fun. That latter part is what's important.
I'll keep you posted on our projects. Just enjoy your sandwiches ... and try to color within the lines. There's a good chap.
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