I don't get it.

My new Smith's is coming in October. Pardon, my NEW Smith's.

I can smoke by the mormo temple now. Thank you god. I can sunbathe there too. Having won the battle, it seems boring now. Let them have it. It was the fighting that was fun. Restrict us again and let us complain.

I can contact my School Board Representative. Karen Derrick. I wonder if she can give the teachers a raise. I wonder. Stevie Wonder was blind...

$14.99 Daily Seafood Dinner Specials! Only at [omitted] I wonder how much their Crack-smoker special is? Fuck them

Oh, I can build a better school board. Doug Nelson for Board of Education. ...but what does Karen Derrick think of this? I should contact her.

Why do the words "mausoleum" and "holocaust" seem so similar to me? Maybe the two brain cells holding those words are touching each other. At any rate, it gives a whole new meaning to Salt Lake Mausoleum. Let's put it on Main Street.

Squashworks.

There still isn't a scottsucks.com When are those webpeople going to get their shit together

There is something ticking in my computer! Maybe it's a bomb! Maybe that terrorist put it there! No, what is this ticking?! Maybe the FBI is spying on me! Hey what's all this plastic explosive and a gold watch about? Maybe I should cut the red wire. Which one's red? Oh no!!! Not that one!!! AAAHHH!!!

...but he could see things other people couldn't see.

Remember not to drink and blog, you could break something.

Semac! Conachre! Get in my office!!! The tangents. Or maybe, the tangence? Is that a word? Am I hungry? Yes, but the canopener is missing, so I can't get my chili. Perhaps early man would have devised some crude, rudimentary lathe to get into the sealed can of Nalley's Original Chili Con Carne With Beans. And why do they say "with meat" in spanish but "with beans" in english?

"post to save yerself." if only it were that easy. but no friends, i'm here to tell you that it isn't. indeed, i posted. i wasn't saved. it doesn't work. don't do it. and that, as they say, the penetrant man shall pass. i miss you Tony.

Rememeber to drink and screw, you could break something. (like the sound barrier)

What are you talking about?

Hello folks.
And let me tell you something else.
Bogus and Felix are hard at work on this page daily.
Yes.
But we were distracted by a snail smoking a cigarette before his timely death.
His fucking feelers were going all sorts of crazy, man.
It was so fucked up!
Holy god.
We sent him to Nirvana. Not the band. Not the afterlife.
But something else entirely.
If you would like to experience it, you will have to get thrown at the cinderblock wall on the side of some kind of freaky store/residence thing behind my house that always has its light on at night and some lady with big black hair lives there.
Would you like to?
I could look into it.
Delete delete delete.
Oh fuck, Felix, that is the dumbest thing you've ever said.
But not really. You are cool.

Doves and pidgeons are the same bird.
Pidgeons and crows are not.
Rabbits get chased by cats and curious young Alices.
Fun.
So.
Don't even try to understand.
No, do try.
I dare you.
I pose a real riddle to you. A conundrum, if you will?
Donde estan mis pantelones? En mi coche, con mi tequila.
La chat est sur la table.
Regamus. Pimpissimi omnium pimporum sumus.
This is the point where we say 'O
No! We run the risk of being
found out!"
(I meant to do that (that as in the quote or that as in the whole story. (We'll tell you about the story later. (I know you are the only one reading this. (Big Spider. (took 'im out! BLOGGER!)

That ends all of them.
No.
FREAKY FREAKY THANG! ( )
feck spelling. O Jese! (vocative)

What have we done, Felix?
You be quiet.
Ok.

Am I hungry?
I'm.
Am I drunk?
I'mn't.
Uber-contraction.

Fastest way to half a baby.
I mean halve you sick bastard.
10% of all people halve there oregons switched round.
hart on rite.
appendicks on left.
One in every TEN!
Ok. I think its time to go. Menthols. Bye bye now.

Not to be racist. I'm just addicted.

What are you talking about?

Yo. So, yesterday night I went to go show Staci Ebo's Grave, and - no shit - we ran into those same kids from West that we saw there last year. I don't fucking believe it. What are the odds?! They were bringing in a bunch of their friends from West to see it, and then they were going to jump out at them and scare them away, much like the goths did that one fateful Friday the 13th. So I told them they should jump out and pretend to start beating the shit out of me. Holy fuck, that would have been so fucking scary. Could you imagine? 'Cos if you're up there and its scary enough all ready, and then these people in masks jump out and start wailing on some dude you've never met who was just there to scare himself? I don't know man, but I would have been terrified. Anyways, they didn't follow the plan, and jumped out way too early. I should have expected - they're not too bright. Nothing personal, I think they're cool and all... but recall last time we were there and one of the goths was wearing a shirt for the band Deicide. And one of the West kids started screaming: "DECIDE WHAT?! WHAT DO YOU WANT US TO DECIDE?!" Heh heh heh. Please, legislators, give that funding back to our schools. Speaking of schools... actually, I won't speak of schools. Fuck that. Ugh, I have to go to Costco today. Conformity at its finest. Seriously, Costco is what the whole hip world would be doing on a saturday night if Hitler had won the war. This is the sixth reich. What we have here is a failure to communicate. ("Communication is not just words, it is... architecture.") Lump nearly every known commodity into a warehouse, cut prices drastically by selling it only in bulk, and prepare to screw over any remaining scraps of the independent business. And the great thing is that you don't have to interact with any other human being except to breath the same air and eventually hand one your credit card. I seen it! People milling about, doing their best not to act as though there's anyone else on the planet that matters. Why do I have to go to Costco? Because, according to Sloth, you can buy 40 Corona Lights for around $20. YEAH!!! Which reminds me, there is a Miller commercial out now that makes fun of Coronas, in a roundabout kindof way. Have you seen this? "Citrus fruit is a cure for scurvy, which must be the only reason a MAN would put a lime in his beer." Holy flipping crud. Oh my heck. MAN? What is a MAN? From the very fine beer commercial examples we have, a MAN is in his mid thirties, wears flannel, is mildly unattractive, somewhat portly, balding, and by all accounts, an otherwise complete waste of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. He drinks beer, watches sports, and inexplicably has a gorgeous and horny girlfriend, who vies for his attention, which is always devoted to beer and sports. What is this shit?

Oh, and don't forget our lawn and garden sale, because April is outdoors month. All items 15% off! You see, it's the Playoffs, baby, and I've been catching NBA action from around the league. And that means a lot of television watching. And that means a lot of commercials. As soon as my toe heals and I will be more willing to actually leave my house instead of sit here and party, then I will have more interesting things on my mind. Hmmm... "toe heals" that's like "heel-toe" which is kinda slang for run, I think. As soon as my toe heals I will heel-toe it to the nearest liquor store. So I can buy red wine, which is the topic I've been trying to get to for the past couple sentences. Yes, my wine-drinking experience took a new turn today tried RED wine. RED, you see? Do you understand the metaphysical complicity here? There is no such thing as coincidence. "...like the crystal lattice of a diamond..."

Many grains have slipped through the neck of the hourglass. My favorite color is red now. I decided that the other day when I started thinking about labels and packaging, and how stuff looks cooler when it's red. Then that got me thinking that everything looks cooler when it's red. Besides, red was Tony's favorite color too. That's why both his drumsets and his Durango were red. And while I was thinking about this, for some reason, I was reminded of his alternate lyrics to Riders On The Storm: "Riders on the gun (guitar riff: da d'da da da) Riders on the gun (da d'da da da) fire hollowtips, (keyboard riff: la la la la la la) use extended clips..." Anyways, I was thinking about this as I was driving to the liquor store to stock up for a party with Felix and Haley and Anne, and then when I got there, I was looking at the vodkas, and I noticed this new kind with a big red 3 on it. And just then "Riders On The Storm" began playing on the radio in the store. Trippy, huh? So, now red is my favorite color.

cd: Slumber Party's self titled
I got this cd as a free promo for subscribing to Magnet. It sux. Well, I shouldn't say that yet, 'cos I haven't heard the whole thing yet, and its only my first time. But this is a terrible first impression. Very boring. The singer sounds very uninterested in her own work, or maybe any energy was lost in the deluge of reverb applied to the album. This sounds like a group of beginners trying their hand at writing their own songs. Plenty of guitar mistakes have been allowed to come through, which causes me to wonder how they sounded on one of the outtakes. Maybe if the music were more difficult to play, I could understand a few mistakes here and there. But the guitar work sounds very similar to my early forays into recording - not exactly inspiring stuff. No chances taken, as a matter of fact, there hardly any notes played that aren't found in the current triad. Very tonal. No dissonanace has befallen my ears yet, and I'm on track seven. Its just very simple-minded and rules-following. I think their guitarist should spend less time finding new sounds on her digital multi effects pedal, and more time learning a few scales, licks, and for godsakes, some syncopation. The whole band can work on that one. Straight eights are not doing it for me. Yes, this sounds a lot like some of my first recordings, when I was just barely learning to play guitar. (I made got my first guitar and made my first recording on the same day, just to give you an idea of how new I was to guitar at the time. Sept 11, 1997, as a matter of fact.) Wow. I hope I wake up tomorrow, give this another listen and find out that I was wrong, 'cos I'm not digging it right now. Slumber Party. What a suitable name. And apparently this is the only band ever signed to Kill Rock Stars based off a demo tape. Yeah right. Either something's going on behind the scenes here, or KRS gets nothing but horrid crap sent to them in mass quantities. In a sick and twisted way, this gives me a good deal of hope, 'cos if these amateurs can make it, then I'm guaranteed a long and successful career.

Tonight some joker was trying to defend the major record labels and attack napster. Yeah right buddy. Here's our conversation (what he said is in quotes): "Well, if they copywrite the songs," he said "then people have no place stealing them." And you don't think its wrong that the label stole the copywrite from the artist? "Well, the artist should know what they're getting into." And as long as you feed the corporate machine, the artist has no alternative that compares with major-label backing. Napster could have been that alternative. "Well, its all about making money. That's what the corporations are good at. That's why the artist signs to them." Corporations are the devil. "No they're not! Corporations are what make america great." Oh yeah, america sure is great. "Would you rather live under a dictatorship?" We all ready live under a fucking dictatorship! The corporations are the dictators!
What the hell does this fucker know? He sells software at the dickyard mediaplay and kisses his district managers ass. Allegedly, this boy who is roughly the same size as me is the best wrestler there is, but he just refs for a travelling wrestling show (that travels from orem to flagstaff, az). He is also a musician. Yeah right. I'd kick yer ass right off the stage and you know it.

Okay, its late. I'm out.

cd: Tracy Bonham's "Down Here" (Still)
Things aren't going well for me, and I might not blog for a while. I'm not sure. I just sent an insane email to Tony. He's probably reading it now and thinking I need help. I just wrote the same old stuff; I'm lost. I'm stuck. I'm drowning. Pretty freaky stuff. Again, I'm sorry Tony. It's slipping away from me, folks. I know it. And I don't know exactly where I'm going, but I'm going there fast. This is one wild ride that just flew off the track. Dammit. "I may seem fine but things are different over here." to quote a song that I'm starting to like. (Tony, you may be the only one to recogize that... as always!) Oh well, I'm not sad like I used to be. My old friend that comes around to push me off cliffs isn't here this time. That's good. Maybe I can have some fun with this. We'll see...

cd: Tracy Bonham's "Down Here"
Today I spent most of my time at the mall with Amy, buying shoes. That was a lot of fun, thanks for calling me, Amy. Then I saw a symphony tonight with Chris. That ruled. I had a pretty good day.

I should have mentioned last night (while I was listening to Fiona Apple) that the guitar solo by Jon Brion in the coda of "Carrion" is probably my most favorite of all time. Its insane; starting with a double-stopped rapid-strummed melody sounding like Dick Dale (or maybe Django Reinhardt) playing an electric mandolin. Then its half-note bends all the way down the neck, and an octave jumping bend-vibrato riff followed by a singing classical vibrato note that fades out and back in (most likely by using the volume control on the guitar). Then the guitar walks up in 3/4 time to reach the closing chord. I want to play like that.

Another great solo of note: the acoustic guitar verse of Nelly Furtado's "Turn Off The Light." (I believe this is the work of Field, credited as playing the "pitched-up guitar" on the track. For all I know, it could be the "swamp" guitarist James McCollum) Its very bluesy, with a real soulful swing, and rhythmic phrasic that suggest that the performer has a real handle on what he's doing, but a lightness that makes it sound entirely improvised on the spot. Oh, and it finishes with one of those Dick Dale/Django Reinhardt things I described in the last paragraph.

I shouldn't write about all these great solos without mentioning the solos of the Beatles. Some of my favorites: The syncopated, string jumping melody on "Fixing A Hole," Harrison's Spanish Guitar Magic on "Till There Was You" and "And I Love Her," his bendy riffs on "Drive My Car" and "You're Going To Lose That Girl," McCartney's well-thought-out direct-injected guitar verse in "Michelle," and, of course, the "guitar duel" amongst Paul, a very Clapton sounding George, and a very Townsend sounding John in "The End."

Writing about music really just lets me focus on something other than all the problems I'm having at the moment. Sorry if none of you care. Its just good for me. I've been saying "I'm at a complete loss" a lot lately. I guess that says something about what's going on in my head.

cd: Fiona Apple's "Tidal"
Well, looking back through my past blogs, I see that I got out of depression on the 18th... Damn. I almost made it a week. But it found its way back tonight. I should see it coming, since it always hits me right as everything seems to come together and make sense. Now nothing makes sense again. Well, I guess the funnest part of a rollercoaster is when it takes the big plunge, right?

It has been brought to my attention that there may be somebody I purposely didn't invite here reading this website. This and my friends' sites are being infiltrated by unwanted eyes. If you are reading this, FUCK OFF!!! Get the hell out of my website. There's a reason I didn't invite you, and I don't want you here.

I don't feel like writing anything else.

cd: Ani Difranco's "Dilate"
Okay, I should be heading off to school, but I'm going to skip my first class today, 'cos like I said before, its lame as hell. Besides, I got another neck injury last night while skiing. You know how your head begins to fall and you quickly jerk it back up when you are falling asleep in class? Well, that would probably be pretty bad for my neck today, and I'm sure that's what would happen.

Okay, only two grammys were awarded to the right people. First off, Douglas Spotted Eagle won a grammy in the first award given for Native American music. (Ironically, Douglas is Polish.) This morning fox news commemorated the event as "the first time the awards have recognized Native American music as a valid art form." Yeah, I'm sure the Native Americans across the country are really glad that their centuries-old traditions are being recognized by the white folk. I'm reminded of a rant; "...the satan-dog white-hair bitch..."

Second grammy that fell into the right hands: Foo Fighters "There Is Nothing Left To Lose" won best rock album of the year. (Ironically, it was released in 1999.) They deserved this.

Now, if a grammy were actually worth anything, that would mean something.

Well, I'll tell what it does mean: mediaplay fort onion is now going to be well stocked on steely dan's "two against nature;" the "album of the year."

"Down Here" is the album of the year! Didn't those guys read my second blog?

cd: Stevie Wonder's "Songs In The Key Of Life"
I watched the first five minutes of the grammys tonight while I was eating dinner. Having skied for the past few hours, I should have avoided television altogether - I was just too exhausted to get upset about it. Madonna performed "music" live... well, not exactly live; there was a dj just playing the pre-recorded backing track. I don't think she was lip-syncing... She still has got to be one of the world's hottest milfs though. Then, our host, jon stewart, came out and watched all his jokes die nameless on the floor before him. Only point of interest in his monologue: he called eminem gay... very gay. But the audience didn't seem interested. Damn. I would have given him a standing ovation for that. Then I would have walked out 'cos the grammys blow.

Aimee Mann didn't win the best pop vocal female performance or whatever its called. The most qualified never wins. Actually, the best never even get nominated. Tracy Bonham should have been a lock on this category. Think about it for a sec... can you honestly argue that britney spears turned in a better performance than Tracy? Well, then I'd like to hear it, 'cos yer wrong.

If someone out there understands senate committee rules, will you please explain something to me? The head of the human resources committee of the senate refused to schedule a hearing on the bill that would make birth control be covered by insurance. And when the last day for the bill to be introduced passed today, the senator just grinned and said, "Damn, it's too late." What is this? Don't we have lots of senators to make this decision, not just one? How does one man have the power to keep a bill from ever being voted on? There must be something I'm not understanding here, 'cos this just seems wrong.

Big surprise here... the white supremacists and the eagle forum have taken the same side. This time its about the hate crimes bill. The supremacists oppose it 'cos they don't want what they do to be against the law. The eagle forum is just against it 'cos it is a great idea. They're against those. The ruzickatistas stand together to fight anything that will make this state, this country, or this world a better place. Where would we be without them? (Utopia?)

On this subject... Jill Sobule admitted that she loves listening to those awful ultra-conservative radio talk shows like doctor laura et al. Why? "I have the same fascination with them as I do with watching nazis on the history channel." Well put.

See? I don't think this website is that cool when I'm not depressed.

cd: The Rosenbergs' "Mission: You" (Finally)
Yay! This awesome cd got released today. Oh, and just incase this never-sell-out band wasn't cool enough all ready (see blog from Feb. 13), the cd came with an extra copy for free, saying "Give this to one of your friends. Support Napster." Goddamn! Uh! Right now that extra copy is residing at the fort onion mediaplay for everyone to enjoy.

What is porn? Some Utah high school students have the answer: "R-Rated Movies." "Michaelangelo's 'David.'" Please, please, please vote to give the Utah education system more money!!! As you can plainly see, its failing utterly. "David" is porn? And a forty-year-old virgin mormon is supposed to decide what is decent in this state? Great, well, I'd better watch "Breakfast Club" before it gets outlawed because of its rating.

How long can this place strangle itself before the people revolt?

Stevie is the man. Right now I'm listening to "Don't You Worry 'Bout A Thing." I'm reminded of the time I heard it performed live by the LBCC jazz band. My teacher was conducting them outside on the steps of the auditorium and Joanne and I sat on the grass underneath the trees with a bunch of grandparents. It was one of those perfect, cool summer evenings; the kind they get every night in SoCal. The band was great. Joanne and I went out to dinner at baja fresh after the concert and then to kinko's to copy off every edition of the geo-thermal man comic strip. We talked about how everything in your past leads to where you are presently at, and that we were thankful for every small thing that led to where we were currently at. Ironically, I feel now that if I'd have stayed, I might be much happier than I am right now. I wish my mind would stop getting in the way and ruining everything.

Music is so much more alive in long beach. Besides that concert, I also saw a flamenco ensemble performing in a borders bookstore. And when I went to skyline park atop signal hill I could hear the symphony playing in another park closer to my house. In one and a half months, three performances is still more than I've seen in the past four months here. Not to mention the fact that I was constantly surrounded by people who were destined to make it as musicians. Very different from this musical wasteland, where no one wants to put any effort into a "hobby." Maybe someday I should return to signal hill.

Memories and dreams. Same thing, only going in different directions.

cd: Ani Difranco's "Little Plastic Castle" (Still)

So, we attacked Iraq again today. And the Dow dropped again today. I had a bacon-wrapped sirloin steak at sizzler and a chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream cone at squirrel bros. Mindless kids tried to decimate themselves on state street tonight but failed. So they turned around and tried again. The wierd customers at work tonight didn't seem so wierd. The normal customers didn't seem so normal. The old men with their suits and ties glared at me and the young girls in their abercrombie uniforms stared at me. A pair of headlights just slowly pulled in to my circle looking like the glowing eyes of some disoriented bug that is desperately hoping to re-find the light that just blinded it.

A good friend told me I can't sing.

Some of the friends I miss most aren't separated from me by distance. They're separated from me by time. I wish I could find them all again, tell them I'm sorry, and try to get things back the way they were. But maybe the impossibility is my punishment for my mistakes.

I wish I knew what was happening.

cd: Lucy Pearl
This cd is incredible. Lucy Pearl is the greatest r&b group to come along in years. I love this cd and listen to it all the time. But none of you have to. Does it matter what I say about this cd? Or any of the others? Does it matter what I write here at all? Probably not. Is this supposed to be a daily journal? Okay, here you go:

I skipped my first class today 'cos its lame as hell. I went to my second class and took a nine question test on Jazz and Beethoven. I slaughtered it. Then I talked to my music teacher who just got back from Stuttgart where he debuted a piece of avant-garde music for two pianos and two percussionists playing about a hundred different instruments. Then I came home and found out that topica.com kicked me off the happytown mailing list for no reason. When I wrote them and asked them to reinstate me, they said they had tons of other letters regarding customer service that they are sorting through and they would get to mine. Here's a tip: stop kicking people off for no reason, and then you won't have so many customer issues to deal with! And the fucking wart on the inside my index finger is still there. I've frozen and burned it so many times that the skin around it is deteriorating. This is the index finger on my left hand; the finger that forms every barre chord on the guitar. Dammit!!! See Amy, this is what I mean when I say that the world is exactly how you look at it. Now that I'm upset, every little thing is only kicking it while I'm down. I need to rise above it.

Fuck dystymia!!!

cd: The Waxwings' "Low To The Ground" (Again)
See, how am I supposed to perform anywhere without a full band? Why the hell does no one want to devote any time to putting together a band and making it work? Everyone I talk to doesn't want to devote any of their precious time to something that would be a lot of fun. I'd like to say "well, they're missing out," but in truth, I'm the one missing out. I'm worth nothing without a band. I've tried. Believe me, I try every day. I tried to go without a full band, but that's just a joke. It isn't easy, understand? You can't just go out and find good musicians who want to put effort into something worthwhile. They're not in abundance. So, I get to see everything I want in life remain hopelessly out of my reach.

Not that I'm getting that much support from someone I need it from the most. A college degree is all that matters to him. It doesn't matter if I'm miserable and lonely the rest of my life, as long as I have a degree and I've got a job where I'm making a salary somewhat comparable to his. That's all that really matters in the end, isn't it? Money? Yeah, right. So its entirely unacceptable that I can easily forget about money if it means that I can just create my art. I'm not living the good life under those standards. Dammit! All I want is to tour with a band on an indy label. That's it. You can leave the rest up to me. I'll take care of it. But no, apparently that's not the life for me.

Dammit, Quinn, write a new blog!

What is the point of all this?

cd: The Rosenbergs' "Mission: You"
Yes, pop can still be good. Especially when its from the never-sell-out band, The Rosenbergs. Right after the copyright on the back of the cd, there is a note that their label, Discipline Global Mobile, operates the copyright, but the Rosenbergs hold it themselves, instead of the label. Disclipline refuses to abide by this "'common practice' which was always questionable, often improper, and is now indefinsible." Apparently, a website was promoting a show at which "someone is going to get a record deal." And the Rosenbergs replied "is that a threat?" Shit yeah it's cool! Right now I'm making a tape of this great album which I am borrowing from Bill. I have to wait until february twenty for it to be released. I'll be there at Salt City CDs on that day, believe me.

Things seem to be making sense.

cd: The Waxwings' "Low To The Ground"
I just bought this cd at their show and had them all sign it. Then I hurried home to listen to it all again. My first reaction to the cd wasn't so hot. I thought they were cool ("a little Taxiride-ish"), but probably not going to be one of my favorite bands. Tonight changed all that. When they're very loud, very raw, and very into it, they are the best band I've seen in a long time. Wow. Their cd is a little calmer, the instruments turned down and toned down a little, and the vocals aren't live. But when its all in your face in a tiny shack in a back alley, there's not much better. Tonight was inspirational. Dominic Romano is one of my new heroes.

The place I saw them at, Kilby Court, is pretty cool too. Its pretty much a little shack in the back of an alley out by the railroad tracks. But the people there are awsome. I met several people tonight (incl. the members of the Waxwings), and felt very comfortable around the type of people there. It probably would have been even better if I had someone to go with me, but oh well, once the music started I zoned out on everything else anyways. I think this is a place I will like to frequent more... frequently.

I think things are all coming together for me.

Shalom. All right, I'm listening to Dido right now. I feel like I'm in Long Beach, lying in my bed, my fan on top of my bass amp set on high and humming quietly, a helicopter circling overhead, the neighbors behind me engaging in a midnight basketball game, "Hamlet" lying on the floor next to a brochure on Shure microphones, my guitar leaning against the foot of my bed. In a few hours I'd wake to a foggy morning, check my empty email, eat some chocolate poundcake I bought with my Ralph's card, and read my latest Issue of Rolling Stone before heading off to record production class. I'm very careful to correct people when they assume that I didn't like Long Beach, because I really did love it there. It was the part about being away from all my friends that I couldn't stand. I really realized how lucky I am to have Tony, Chris, Quinn, Amy, Bill, and Joanne as great friends. They are all great people, and just to think that they consider me a friend is at times unimaginable. I guess this is one of those times. Sometimes I'm not sure if I really let them know how much they mean to me.

P.S. Tony has joined the blogging community. www.boomstick.blogspot.com Visit it and be enlightened.

Hola. The Waxwings make some great music, even if their lyrics are a little Taxiride-ish at times. Bill would probably dismiss this by saying, "they're pop." But pop doesn't necessarily have to be glib (I hope). I mean, "A Day In The Life" is still pop. The Waxwings' lead singer. Dean Fertita sounds like a cross between Mike Love and Art Alexakis, only way less annoying than both. And their label, Bobsled Records is just cool.

All right, I need to let you all know something. Amy is a totally kick-ass singer! I heard her sing last night, and it's not like I was expecting her to be bad. But I was not expecting her to be this good. And her songs rule too. When she first played the chords to them for me, I was like, "okay, that's cool." But then when she sang along everything clicked. It totally ruled. It makes me a little jealous that a beginner is all ready way more talented than I am after years of practice. Oh well, I'm happy for her and I encourage her to make the most of her potential.

So, I learned something cool today. Beethoven was the first rocker. Honestly, all his music was about was breaking the rules of the time, while making music that was still way better than anything anyone had ever heard. His music was so advanced at the time that he was widely disliked by the general population. All the people wanted was stupid, simple music that didn't make them think. Only a select number of advanced music listeners were able to truly appreciate his music. (I guess history repeats itself, no?) Beethoven made a mockery of the whole rule-based system composers had to go by at the time. (He even renamed his minuets "scherzos" which is Italian for "jokes.") Music was supposed to be organized and balanced, and that little bitchass of a virtuoso named Mozart happily followed these rules. But Beethoven was like: "Fine, I have to play by the rules? Well check this out!" Then he would go about mixing things up so bad, trying things never tried before, and doing it all at a tempo so fast that nobody could tell what was supposed to be going on. And the best part is that it really rocks. Beethoven used to play so hard that the piano strings would break! Contemporary "owner's manuals" for pianos described his style of playing as misuse of the instrument! Find me someone today who is so daring and so brilliant. If you do, I guarantee that he or she will never get any radio airplay. Ha!