19 march 2000
hope unfocused


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Free prize to anyone who can tell me exactly what's in that picture up there...


~~~

Driving into Venice from the east, there's really no way of telling you're entering a different part of Los Angeles. But that's just the way this city is ... consistently crossing boundaries and never realizing it, the car culture moves so fast to notice a thing. About a half mile before Venice Boulevard terminates at the Pacific, the road splits, westbound traffic on North Venice Boulevard, eastbound on South Venice Boulevard. Between the two roads is a 150 foot wide strip of land that's being slowly developed beneath the moniker of urban revitalization. Five years ago the new Venice Library opened on that strip, an ugly pink postmodern ediface, right across the street from my our apartment, a place I've visited twice since it opened. Further east, right where the road splits, the island in the middle is a wasteland of shrubbery, dirt, and garbage. Last week someone tied a bedsheet right between two trees at that split, colorfully painted into a banner that simply said "VENICE," so all cars passing it would know what was coming ...

I saw that banner driving home from band practice the other night, and for some reason it struck me as very cool. It felt like I was coming home to a place, a community, a neighborhood. My neighborhood.

A couple of days ago Los Angeles city officials tore down the banner. Figures. We wouldn't want any sense of neighborhood in LA, would we now?



~~~

Band update: or what's been happening musically in my life....

We're playing the Roxy this Friday at 8pm. Famous place. On the Sunset Strip. Come one, come all. Frankly, I don't give a shit if anyone comes or not. And fuck them if they don't. It'll be their loss. Yes, we're _that_ good, in my lousy opinion.

More dysfunction with my organ. In a fit of passion last week, I stroked the high "A" right in half, sending the tip flying across the room in the middle of one of my better rehearsal solos. Two nights ago, while recording my tracks for two new songs, I slid my hand down the keyboard and sliced my index finger on the edge of the broken key. Blood all over the keyboard by the end of the take. We finished recording (and it didn't sound all that bad). The blood wouldn't come off though -- after scrubbing for a good five minutes I figured I'd leave the dark red streaks and drops there as a reminder to be careful. Not wanting any more reasons for band-aids on my hands, I fixed the broken key last night while we were recording vocals.

Apparently there will be quite a few celebrities at our Roxy gig. Our band is fucking crazy, and word gets around, I guess.

Today, we're mixing. I'm typing from IceDog's apartment. Wamba is on the G4 mixing the drum tracks (always start there) with ProTools. IceDog and I are on the couch, alternately watching hockey and offering advice on the mix. I won't say anything until they get to the organ. I'm rather particular about how the B-3 comes off on tape (and most especially in this case, where I lost a great deal of blood during the recording process).

Drums are done. They're bringing the bass in now. This song could be our hit. A lot of our songs could be our hit, but this one could actually hit it internationally. Kinda like Santana's "Smooth" did, but with just a hair more "i-don't-give-a-fuck-what-you-think" soul and groove to it, if that's possible. Despite its mainstream popularity, I'm still a big fan of that Santana album -- it's nice to see something truly soulful prevail on the charts these days. Gives us hope. Gives _me_ hope is more like it.

I just wish I knew what I was really hoping for.



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Home now. Gonna watch a movie with the roomies. Got rather down on myself driving home, thinking about work, and how it means everything and nothing to me at the same time. Everything in the financial sense, and nothing in the human sense. I liked it much better when I was passionate about my work, three or four years ago ... it was the same company then, for the most part. I wonder what changed. Maybe playing music has stolen my passion from work. I don't think so. I mean, sure, I'd rather be doing music fulltime, but I couldn't imagine the job being any better if I didn't have the music thing happening on the side. No, the job definitely would not be better. Life would be a whole lot worse, though.

I'm still in this funk, but I'm taking the word out of the entry titles. I've been down for much longer than I'd expected, and I'm running out of creative ways to use that word.



~~~

two years ago: time holds the answer: failing to predict the future

one year ago: in a lonely place: thinking too much and masturbating...

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