Richard D. James released his album Drukqs in 2001 and then “retired”, “disappeared”, and basically “stopped releasing music.” There has been speculation on various messageboards that he has been behind numerous releases, among them titles by Steinvord, The Tuss (officially confirmed to be a project of his own), Smojphace, Jodey Kendrick, Syntheme, and pretty much anything else that is electronic and not obviously associated with a particular entity. He’s been known to drop disinformation in various media outlets, including a claim that his production kit included an MC-909 Limited Edition, a Quasimidi Van Helden and “all the Behringer effects that copy other things” (lulz). I think this a very clever PR tactic on his part. Certainly it must be incredibly entertaining if nothing else.
Like many other IDM heads, I made my first Aphex Twin download on Napster in 2000. I came across his name on a list of futuristic musicians. He was among other artists whom were shoe-horned onto this list such as DJ Spooky, Brian Eno, and Moby. In retrospect, Aphex Twin was the only artist to sincerely be peering into the possible future of what music could become. In fact, he was already performing live with a laptop as early as 1995!!
I credit Aphex with ultimately getting into electronic music production. He opened a world of possibilities for me. He’s also name-dropped artists who are still huge favorites (Tod Dockstader, Venetian Snares, and Holly Herndon). I imagine Aphex to be familiar with Jonty Harrison as well. He’s never really been easily categorized and he continues to make statements in long outdated styles (jungle, drum n’ bass, acid, etc.) and always with a plethora of rare analogue equipment. He is rumored to own a super-rare Yamaha EX-1. I imagine his synth collection, disklavier, and whatever else he has in his studios is worth millions. The guy has always struck me as a true businessman, never bragging about revenue but always on top of his earnings.
Today's blog post is about Alfred Schnittke. Before I start, I want to write a little bit about why I do these blogs and how they fit into my creative process. I treat all creative activity the same way one would approach physical exercise. I always begin with a warm-up of some type. This actually first came about when I began seriously practicing guitar. I would sit with my guitar plugged into a headphone amp and begin with something to get my fingers moving and to achieve a sort of suppleness in my hands (scales, chords, Slonimsky’s chromatic patterns, a brief improvisation, etc). The blogs often serve as a warm-up for various creative activities, I do not always post my warm-up journals, sketches, or improvisational recordings, but I do make a point of doing something before every session. These entries on composers and musicians are actually written rather quickly, with very little editing. This accounts for the content of these entries, the mixture of autobiographical memories and reflections on how the music has inspired me and influenced me throughout my life. They are important to my creative process. I think that the contemporary cross-disciplinary artist is blessed to live in an era where so much of one’s creative process can be laid out and exposed, the artist can be rendered vulnerable in a way that was not possible in previous generations. I express sincere gratitude for this luxury. I also intend to do a series on filmmakers, artists, and writers. I imagine this will be an ongoing process into the next decade of my life.
I would say I was about 15 years old when I first discovered Alfred Schnittke. I had thumbed past his work in the compact discs at Rare Bear for the past year while I was looking for works by Stravinsky and Shostakovich, both of whom I idolized and imitated to the best of my adolescent abilities. The first disc I purchased was a Naxos release, which contained Stille Musik and his Cello Sonata from 1978, which was written around the age of 44 or so. I had recently noticed that his releases suddenly contained his birth year but also his death year (1934 - 1998). Naturally, this intrigued me that he had died since I first noticed his name and Naxos releases were not significantly expensive, as I often left with as many as four at a time -I decided to purchase one of his discs, which did not include his death date.
When I returned home and listened to the recording, I was blown away! This was a different type of modernism from what I was familiar with, it was maybe even postmodernist in its own way, but Schnittke was living under Soviet rule and I imagine his exposure to culture outside of Soviet Russia was rather limited, which would limit the influences he was absorbing. The music was constantly shifting between extremes, between dichotomous textures and sounds (soft/loud, tonal/atonal, slow/fast, etc.) What was even more striking was that Schnittke seemed to favor rather slow tempo markings. In fact, between the Cello Sonata and Stille Musik, the tempo markings were Lento, Largo, Presto, and Largo!!
I had played this music for a girlfriend and she was really into death metal and punk music and I recall her response to the Agitato from his Second String Quartet as she brushed her faded-green mohawk out of her face, “Jesus. I thought my music was hardcore.” I think that just about says it all. She loved Dying Fetus and Cannibal Corpse! Schnittke achieved intensity without any electricity! His electricity was organic and achieved by utilizing elements of dissonance, volume, polyphonic density, and quick pacing. He was definitely a neo-classical composer in his own way, as he was working with sonatas and symphonic form, but he was also very much so a postmodernist, working with what he termed polystylism.
His work also encompassed film scoring and he worked with some legendary directors, including Shepitko and Askoldov among others. One can run through his catalog of work and find the influences of jazz music, Bach, Mozart, Stravinsky, Gregorian chant, Shostakovich, the Darmstadt serialists, and folk songs of various countries. He was entirely eclectic and eventually shed modernist pretensions of complexity in favor of a haunting and obsessive emotional content at the end of his life’s work, I almost get the sense that he was basically writing the same composition for the last 8 years of his life.
I have created a playlist that includes his Second String Quartet performed by the Kronos Quartet, and his work Stille Musik and the Cello Sonata from 1978, taken from the Naxos recording I purchased towards the end of 1998 and listened to when I was supposed to be at school that day.
Ornette Coleman’s music came to me in my freshman year of high school. I had this really bad habit of saving my lunch money up and ditching school every three days to purchase compact discs from a store called Rare Bear. It was right around the corner from the high school I attended.
I started my journey through Coleman’s catalogue with The Shape of Jazz to Come. I have to admit that I lost interest in his music once I started to explore his work that he released in the 70s and after, but his earlier work was highly influential on me. I also have this memory of being in a car with my cousin who was obsessed with punk rock music (Circle Jerks, Ramones, Dead Kennedys and the like, music which I do appreciate) and she had asked me to put on some of my favorite music. I had two cassette tapes in my bag, a cassette I had dubbed of Henryk Gorecki’s music for strings and an Ornette Coleman birthday tribute I had pulled off of the radio over spring break that year (Ornette’s birthday was March 9). I decided to put Ornette Coleman on as his music was considerably “heavier” than Gorecki’s 2nd String Quartet and also very rebellious in spirit. I will never forget the ignorant tone of her laughter when she heard Coleman’s music! Some things are forgivable, but I cannot forgive poor taste, while I won’t hold a grudge, it’s hard to forget that an individual has a limited knowledge of culture, regardless of whether that limited knowledge is of art, music, film, literature, critical theory, philosophy, or anything else, it just shows that an individual hasn’t really taken time to enjoy anything that isn’t placed in front of them by a teacher, a parent, a friend, the television, a movie, a magazine, social media, and so on. In other words, a limited knowledge of culture shows a lack of intelligence and free thinking and a shallow necessity to fit in and be accepted.
Which brings me to the importance of Ornette Coleman. His music is loved by the elitists in so-called “new music” and “improvised music.” However, I would not call him an elitist. He was famous for dropping the piano from jazz and completely ignoring the implied harmonies of the bass line when he improvised. He played a plastic saxophone. He released an album that lent its name to an entire genre, Free Jazz (a feat that was also accomplished by Venom with their album Black Metal). Another hero of mine, John Zorn, has recorded an entire album of hardcore covers of Ornette’s work, Spy vs. Spy: The Music of Ornette Coleman. He made contributions to the soundtrack of David Cronenberg’s film adaptation of Burroughs’ controversial novel Naked Lunch.
The point is, at the age of 14, I was completely unaware how Ornette’s music would keep coming back to me as my interests developed and I would eventually become aware of the web of influence that connected Ornette to William S. Burroughs to David Cronenberg; or Ornette to John Zorn to Napalm Death; or Ornette to Weasel Walter and The Flying Luttenbachers to the sounds of No Wave (which could even be connected to Basquiat in a round about way). Ornette Coleman would eventually become this nexus point of the avant-garde for me. I cannot think of anything more cutting edge and more amazing than to be that influential on such a diverse assortment of progressive thinkers. His music epitomizes substance and quality and departure from tradition. Coleman was an iconoclast.
Coleman passed away June 11, 2015.
I also want to acknowledge my thoughts and prayers for the family of Chris Cornell. Soundgarden and Audioslave have been two of my favorite rock groups throughout my life and he was an incredible vocalist. RIP.
I've been reflecting on a conversation I recently had with artist Derek Chan.
Chan raised the notion of taking painting to another level and ideas about stretching canvas in non-rectangular shapes and canvas displayed on the floor in the manner of a rug were expressed. Our conversation also covered notions of knowing when a painting is finished and new directions for our work. This inspired some thinking about execution versus contemplation in my own work.
In my process, there are currently two activities in creation -contemplation (the planning, studying and actual thinking that go into any creation) and execution (the act of painting, performing, filming, and so on). For myself, I consider these to be two very separate activities. Cy Twombly, who is a primary influence of mine, has mentioned that he might think about a piece for several hours, but the execution is rather quick, maybe 15 minutes and everything is finished. I also strive for this separation of analysis and creation.
If I am too careful with something and it begins to take too long, it will be discarded. That always happens as a result of an overlap between contemplation and execution, where contemplation overpowers the execution of a piece. This applies to music as well as visual art. I might spend 15 hours contemplating a work via a combination of sketching, journaling, and reading. But when a piece takes me 15 hours to complete, it bores me to death and I move on to something else before it is finished. One of the alluring aspects of visual art over musical composition is that visual art has a potential to be incredibly direct and incredibly expressive, perhaps even more emotional than a lot of music can be, which often relies on clichés and preconceptions about emotion and expression (slow blues, love ballad, minor keys are associated with sorrow, etc.)
One of the major flaws in the human animal, is that of overthinking. I strive to be more machine-like, but not entirely mechanical -that is to say unstoppable in the directness of its executions, radically indifferent to its own creations, and a human being completely of its era. Chan said something about Gerhard Richter being the quintessential postmodernist and I admit that I strive to be the equivalent in our own hypermodernist era -an extension of my machinery rather than the master of my hardware and software. I want to be useless as an artist without the technology that makes it possible, an endeavor that will take years to achieve and that is taking things to the next level for me.
Before I begin today’s post about my influences, I am going to write briefly about love and relationships. People will always reveal their true selves. You have to have compassion for them. The truly troubled will do anything they can to hurt you, the key is to not react and let them fall to the wayside. Their downfall will be their tendency to hurt those who care about them. Ignore and ignite.
Now. . .let the end times roll.
One of my all time favorite 20th-century masterworks is Track 4 of the album I have shared above, a performance of Dmitri Shostakovich’s 2nd Piano Trio featuring Isaac Stern, Yo-Yo Ma, and Emanuel Ax. The movement is built around a theme that is dark and macabre. The theme itself has a gypsy flavor and Shostakovich is said to have written this after learning that the Nazis had forced some Jews to play the violin on their graves before being executed at gunpoint.
Shostakovich is relevant because his music was about taking a muted stance against totalitarianism and Stalinism. Every time I hear his work, I can almost feel his anguish and frustration; and his overall anxiety about his own future and the fate of his friends and family. In fact, over the years I have come to identify with The Three Russian S composers over the usual Three B’s (Stravinsky, Shostakovich, & Schnittke as opposed to Bach, Beethoven, & Brahms; I never particularly enjoyed Brahms’ music). Furthermore, Shostakovich’s music contains a kernel of the polystylism we find in Schnittke’s work. This movement in particular contains not only the brooding violin them, but also ostinati that are reminiscent of popular music; a tonality that shifts center as abruptly as anything found in Schnittke’s work; romantic piano flourishes; and that characteristic sardonicism that only Dmitri Shostakovich was able to pull off in a dire way that made you take his humor very, very seriously.
There is not much else I can say about this piece, or should say about this piece. The work certainly speaks for itself, as all great masterworks tend to speak entirely for themselves. Shostakovich never had the luxury of playing public relations for himself in Stalinist Russia. Just listening to his work makes me feel ashamed of all the luxuries I personally take for granted -Facebook, Twitter, blogging, buying my own commodities, being able to self-release my own work, etc. His music is a reaffirmation of the freedoms we should be fighting for. His work is a reaffirmation of the future we should all be fighting for. To sit by quietly is suicide.
Abolish Fear. Establish Trust.
There is a part of me that is proud to say that the first Anthony Braxton recording I acquired was his Three Compositions of New Jazz. The recording featured himself, Wadada Leo Smith, Leroy Jenkins, and Muhal Richard Abrams. I will never forget the remark made by Carter, the man who ran the record store I frequented. As I approached him with this compact disc in my hands and prepared to pay him for it, he said to me “Oh, man. Anthony Braxton. Denton, my man. That album separates the believers from the nonbelievers.”
I have since interpreted Carter’s words as being a commentary on the nature of jazz music, freely improvised music and the evolution of jazz music as being that of a continuum headed in the direction towards the complete emancipation of the role of the jazz musician in society; from that initial role of entertainer, minstrel, or vaudeville performer; to the penultimate role of high priest, sage, intellectual, and prophet. Jazz music was the product of a time before black musicians and black artists were not permitted to openly speak their minds in public, to speak their thoughts in the realm of the social or in the realm of the political. Braxton's music came at a time when Martin Luther King Jr. had been assassinated, after Malcolm X had been assassinated. I will always contend that jazz music was the artistic product of the muted voice of the black prophetic experience and hip-hop music was the proclamation of the post-Civil Rights Era black prophetic experience. I use the word prophet in the sense that these individuals from jazz music and hip-hop music were inspired teachers and true progressives. For example, Duke Ellington had one of the first truly integrated touring bands; in fact, his pianist and orchestrator, Billy Strayhorn was openly homosexual-a personal reality that was often not acknowledged in mainstream America as homosexuals and jazz musicians were often stigmatized in the 1940s and 1950s and placed in the same social stratum as violent criminals and drug addicts.
Braxton's music was completely prophetic and visionary in terms of freeing up the role of the black musician in American culture. The opening atonal choral, sung as if the group were participating in a solfège of something by Webern, eventually leads into a group improvisation in which Braxton, Jenkins, and Smith performed on saxophone, trumpet, and violin; but also an assortment of cymbals, found percussion, recorder, harmonica, kazoo, bagpipes, slide whistle, accordion, and other instruments. The disc also contained a composition by Leo Smith entitled “The Bell” and another Braxton piece, “Composition 6D”.
For myself, this recording will always be classic and highly influential, not just for its audaciousness in the handling of modern classical and free jazz, but for its lasting influence on a number of other musicians who added to the development of new music. People like John Zorn, Steve Lacy, and Sonic Youth’s Thurston Moore have openly acknowledged the influence that Anthony Braxton had on their music. Braxton has gone on to collaborate with Wolf Eyes, Archie Shepp, Philly Jo Jones, David Holland, Chick Corea, Richard Teitelbaum, Max Roach, Paul Smoker, Marianne Schroeder, Gyorgy Zsabados, Gino Robair, Marilyn Crispell, Andrew Voigt, Frederick Longberg Holm, Peter Brötzmann, and so many more. Anthony Braxton has even been sampled by Venetian Snares!!
I leave you with a playlist of my favorite Anthony Braxton recordings.
Experimentation in BDSM
The basic element of BDSM sexuality is one of pure experimentalism. Approaching BDSM with open-mindedness is essential to the enjoyment of BDSM. A commonality between BDSM and other types of sexuality is the spectral nature of the experience. Fetish sexuality exists along a spectrum, perhaps even within a field or universe of its own, and at certain times, the only true tenet in BDSM might be the notion that one cannot enjoy what one has not tried.
A list of hypothetical aesthetic and sexual analogs could be drawn up:
What I do not wish to imply is that my artistic taste or any of my work in music, painting, collage, drawing, photography, or film is influenced by the notion of depicting sexual acts or is intended to be an expression of the emotions tied to sexual activity. All I mean is that the action of choking a blindfolded lover with a belt while she cums multiple times after an hour’s long lead up that involved high-impact flogging, degradation, humiliation, and tit torture—with a harsh noise wall used to drown out the sounds of her moans and her ability to anticipate the next crack of the whip—is about as far removed as you can get from the banality of boring in and out pumping with a club track playing in the background (those types of sexual encounters typically involve the participants fantasizing about other people anyways). I aim to achieve this level of unorthodoxy and rawness in my work, alongside the rational and calculated.
What I am getting at is that the expression of the anomic, the alien, the primal; all those elements of the paradisiacal island of sexual and aesthetic maturity; these are the concepts that I look to express in my music, art, and writing. All by way of experimentation. The promiscuity of forms and content is an exploration that my work is currently focusing itself upon. Building tools from scratch (just as I have built toys from scratch) is also a focus; I currently write patchers in software like MAX and Reaktor for both visual and sound applications. In fetish sexuality, anything can be tried; the gratifying elements are to be retained and the extraneous are to be reserved.
Fetish sexuality co-opts so-called lovemaking (which is an outmoded, strictly confined concept in and of itself) as an act that engages one’s creative faculties. The most intense BDSM experiences are abstract, a sudden and sustained shock of distorted meaning and signification that engages distinct antipodal points of our human instincts (the aggressive and the primal; Eros and Thanatos), into a singular experience in time and space. The experiences are intense, experimental and highly memorable bits of pleasure and pain intertwined with one another. To approach the act of creation in this manner, is not for everybody, and that is the appeal of BDSM.
To get at a really satisfying BDSM experience, one has to explore one’s mind very much in a way that is similar to the methods of the Dadaists and Surrealists. Sexual experiences that have taken place between myself and various partners have been inspired by revelations made in therapy; dreams and nightmares; free writing; films; and the transposition of items not intended for sex into a sexual context (in fact, I pride myself on the ability to be able to walk into a hardware store with $50 and leave with enough material to pleasure a partner for the whole weekend without repeating the same sex act twice).
My early sexual experiences were often boring, by rote experiences of light spanking and gentle hair pulling before I engaged in a long-term study of the human mind and human society. At one point, I intended to formally study sexology and commit myself to a formal research of human sexuality—but I opted for a privately, more personally funded research endeavor instead. Exploring my own psyche involved a long process of dismembering my preconceptions about personal identity, a process of ego-dismemberment that involved experiences that were wide-ranging and unconventional. Part of that self-discovery involved experiences with straight women, gay men, lesbian couples, trans-women and trans-men, married couples, and groups I met through swingers’ clubs and gay bars. These experiences included impact play, wax play, religious play, race play, age play, standard roleplay, WAM, watersports, emetophilia, and so forth. A turning point was when I began constructing my own floggers and canes; spanking benches and restraints; and ultimately realized that fetish sexuality is an art in and of itself that involves an understanding of one’s mind, one’s body, and one’s spirit.
This is the key to creating true art.
Mediation: Scarcity and Saturation
In my life, I have had the recurrence of two extremes of BDSM experience: one with no toys and no paraphernalia; and the other with an overabundance of choices of toys and paraphernalia. Anecdotally, a long term partner and myself had engaged in a lot of different types of play and what we learned was the more complex the experience, the less satisfying it was on a primal level. What we eventually noted, was that when we had spontaneous experiences, say in a friend’s house during a party or in a remote corner of the public library, we still had a satisfying experience due to the presence of our natural sexual apparatus (genitalia and hands). I was still spontaneously capable of choking her, spanking her, and penetrating her. Those experiences were often more satisfying to us than experiences involving a spanking bench, a St. Andrew’s Cross, suspensions, a hitachi, a hundred yards of jute rope, a custom soundtrack, custom lighting, and so forth.
In a technological world, we often forget that we are animals who really only possess the disease of religion, philosophy, opinion, politics, murder, art, music, racism, classism, and the like. We are Idiots. We are over evolved Apes. Our hyperreality is comprised of an abundance of individual choices between sounds, flavors, images, and other sensate experiences. The self-aware realize this and engage both the beast and the intellect. However, these extremes, the primal and the rational, need mediation.
BDSM has taught me the importance of being resourceful when confronted with scarcity but also appreciating saturation and finding a time and place for each extreme. Currently, my work involves a data-saturation of sorts and the utilization of integer sets as generative material for various types of processing and calculation. At other times, my work will involve what might appear as childish scribbling or graffiti markings on paper and canvas. What is important is the mediation between extremes—the primal and the rational—between scarcity and saturation.
BDSM can be an incredibly intellectual, but there is also a state of altered consciousness that is entered. Anybody who has lots of experience and has had satisfying experiences is aware of this state. I need not utter the name of this mental state. Those of us who are initiated know the name of it, and the herd needs to learn it for themselves. Lesser humans have used artificial means to arrive here (think LSD, alcohol, ecstasy, crystal meth, etc.), but this can be achieved by several natural means and BDSM is one of them. For those of us who have experienced great fetish sex, we are well aware of that moment when rationality and intellect cease processing the real and the hyperreal and a trance-state is induced. This is why the spirit has to be maintained alongside the body and the intellect. BDSM is ritualistic and requires endurance, strength, suppleness, and everything in between. BDSM is a true yin and yang experience, as I have said, a mediation.
I am including a list of books, films, and music that have influenced my explorations of the fetish lifestyle throughout the years. While this list is not definitive and it is merely subjective, these have all helped me to understand these concepts and I recommend that those who are interested familiarize themselves with these works. Some of them deal with unorthodox sexuality, others are merely unorthodox:
The Psychick Bible by Genesis Breyer P-Orridge
Liber Null by Peter J. Carroll
Seductive Art of Japanese Bondage by Midori
The New Topping Book by Janet W. Hardy
Female Ejaculation and the G-Spot by Deborah Sundahl
Sex, Drugs and Magick by Robert Anton Wilson
Modern Sex Magick by Donald Michael Kraig
The Ultimate Guide to Cunnilingus by Violet Blue
Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov
120 Days of Sodom by Marquis de Sade
Story of the Eye by Georges Bataille
A Season in Hell by Arthur Rimbaud
Illuminations by Arthur Rimbaud
Naked Lunch by William S. Burroughs
Cities of the Red Night by William S. Burroughs
The Soft Machine by William S. Burroughs
The Job by William S. Burroughs
The Death of Bunny Munro by Nick Cave
Crash by JG Ballard
Music for Bondage Performance by Merzbow
Clitoris Projectile Pump Action by Masonna
Ejaculation Generator by Masonna
Adoration of the Faceless Woman split by Vomir/Paranoid Time
Filmworks V: Tears of Ecstasy by John Zorn
Ganryu Island by John Zorn and Michihiro Sato
The String Quartets by John Zorn
STRGTHS by SHXCXCHCXSH
The Disintegration Loops by William Basinski
My Love is a Bulldozer by Venetian Snares
The Piano Teacher (2001)
In the Realm of the Senses (1976)
Rubber’s Lover (1996)
Año Bisiesto (2010)
Get My Belt (2013)
9 1/2 Weeks (1986)
Pink Flamingos (1972)
A Dirty Shame (2004)
964 Pinnochio (1991)
Visitor Q (2001)
Graphic Sexual Horror (2009)
There’s always been something of a unique aura about Grant Green’s music, an ability that is somehow mystifying and intangible. Green played the guitar more like a horn player, having copped Charlie Parker and Miles Davis licks in his youth. Being a guitarist, his music was firmly rooted in Detroit blues and his music swings hard. His solos are almost always perfect, notable for extending repeated three note phrases over as many as 6, 8, 12, and even 16 measures at a time, making subtle rhythmic variations with each repetition, generating an obsessive tension that is relieved with either a flurry of notes or a single held tone. His solos have a strong melodic sensibility and he rarely plays fast for the sake of playing fast. Green is one of the rare few who managed style and substance, rather than sacrificing one for the other. Green died in 1979.
His distinct work has been sampled by Cypress Hill, A Tribe Called Quest, Digable Planets, Wu-Tang Clan, and Kendrick Lamar. Which is testament to the fact that you don’t manage to meaningfully contribute to history without knowledge, without taste, and without heritage.
I first met James T-Model Ford in 1997. He had opened for R.L. Burnside. His music had a memorable approach to a number of blues standards I would eventually grow to adore. Ford’s music served as an introduction, as the necessary open-valve to a whole world of blues music. His renditions of “Cut You Loose” and “My Babe” showed an affinity for James Cotton and Little Walter; and his renditions of “Smokestack Lightnin’” and “Catfish Blues” were excellent covers of Howlin’ Wolf and Muddy Waters. For me, his and R.L. Burnside’s music were the blues analog of Frank Zappa to classical modernism—that is to say, a gateway drug, so to speak.
I witnessed T-Model Ford play in 1997, 1998, 1999, and 2000. I was always the youngest person in the club when I attended those shows, always going with the accompaniment of a parent and always drinking Coca-Cola. One of my fondest memories was having the opportunity in 1999, to play guitar alongside T-Model Ford’s drummer, nicknamed Spam, at Santa Fe’s Thirsty Ear Festival, which primarily presented roots music and underground alternative rock. Spam and I played for about 30 minutes as a duo and he used a snare drum in a North Mississippi Hill marching style, which he muted with a handkerchief to match the dynamics of the small saloon we played in. I ran through a number of styles: Robert Johnson style Open-G riffs; John Lee Hooker style vamps; and Muddy Waters-influenced stomping drones in the key of E. Even to this day, this is one of my fondest memories of my adolescence. Later, Spam admitted that “a white boy learnt” him the drums.
In the interim between these show experiences, I participated in weekly jam sessions and gigs throughout the bar scene in New Mexico. I was thirsty for playing experiences and I was often the first musician to arrive at 8 PM and the last to leave at 2:30 AM. I would be so wound up, I sometimes couldn’t get to sleep and I would cram in as much studying as I could before attending school the next morning around 7:30 AM. Those early morning study sessions often involved practicing for jazz ensemble; studying voice leading for music theory; and writing research papers on music (Anthony Braxton, Eric Dolphy, Arnold Schoenberg and Karlheinz Stockhausen are four names I remember writing papers on at this time). I remember the feeling of walking around school after a great show—having not had time to wash the cigarette smoke out of my hair—and I would have to listen to the other kids gossip and bicker; meanwhile I was living this double life of student and bar musician and there was always this compartmentalization between being the kid with a guitar that the high school cliques ignored and being the kid with a guitar that the college cliques cheered for the night before. After my third gig, I stopped telling the other children because they usually didn’t believe me, the response was always, “Sure, in your wildest dreams you played at a bar last night and some older girl with a fake ID gave you kiss on the cheek as she was leaving.” I was fourteen when this started and it went on until I was seventeen.
I estimate that I had something like 8,000 hours of gigging, rehearsal and practice and jamming experience by the time I reached legal adulthood. Between studying classical, jazz rehearsal, guitar class, and watching movies with my guitar in hand; I was playing about 4 or 5 hours a day, and I’ve done my best to keep this pace up with all my passions throughout life. These were crucial, formative years for me and I still prefer early morning to any other time for work, often rising as early as 3 AM to start weightlifting, write critical essays, compose music, and create visual art; I also typically read for 1 or 2 hours every night before bed. I don’t drink, I don’t take drugs, I don’t pursue unnecessary partnerships, I make time for meditation, and I attempt to sublimate everything into my work. I feel truly blessed at this point. I wish I could tell T-Model Ford how much he and Spam set the forces of my passion for music into motion. James T- Model Ford passed away in 2013. He was about 90 years old.
shit pours from my lips
it fills the candlestick with gas and perfume
corpses intertwine like egos
and drips of alcohol
ignite their perfume
can you believe there is no censorship
left in the newspaper?
possibly the eroticization of relieved bowels
will disintegrate your shallow ego
your hallow ego
your okra, your dildo, your potato skin
your whole agenda
is divided into white, black
and every shade of disbelief in between
you owe us nothing
yet, take everything for yourself
you have already begun to undress yourself
in front of the whole world
this is why I could never love you
everything and nothing is left for me
artificial light battles me lightly
attempting to write my own autobiography
after all of my slander has passed into idiocy
eternally grateful for the hateful anonymity
of the blanket of digital stars
emptiness knows his name
emptiness knows my name
attempting to remember where it all began
only the strong shall survive violence
only the violent survive silence
the silent will collect money, data, goggles, and heat
the mute button
writing for one more ride
one last chance
it is I who will write the story of our decline
every passive aggressive
nonsensical bit of censorship
sucks up the savory worthlessness of its own ego
I forgot you
I forgot to indulge you
I forgot to follow you
instruct you and dominate you
you have unwritten our own story
our own revolution
I can comfortably move forward
knowing that our reticence
represents an ending
a quiet apocalypse
the mute orgasm of the smile
forget me forgetting you
it is over.