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"The Trapeze Swinger" - Iron and Wine

Hello All,

Hope all is well. Last night, I witnessed one of the best concert performances, ever. Whoever is a fan of Iron and Wine needs to see him perform at least once. He remixes the songs and breathes new life into them. Sodom, South Georgia, my favorite song, was sung in an entirely different way that was equally as brilliant as the original. Well, I’m glad that I’m into music and not into cars. The best cars will cost you a fortune and a bullshit career and other false, material pursuits. Highly unlikely. In contrast, the best musicians aren’t found performing at the Staples Center, they’re found in small, niche places where you can shake their hand after the show. How I love the qualitative life.

Well, Sam Beam, this guy is my hero. I’m so sappy that leaves grow out of my ears squirrels run up my legs. But you know, I’d like to think of myself as a champion of hearts; a lifetime member of the Dead Poets Society. But either way, Sam Beam is the modern day Pablo Neruda. I was lucky to have been sitting, not even fifty feet, from someone whom I truly admire.

There are a few reasons why I enjoy sad, love songs. One, I’m more in touch with who I am and how I feel than most men. My talons have firmly held onto the whole notion of true love; the kind that after school specials are made of. I believe in love exclusive of compatibility. Second, I’m a guy! I can’t talk to the boyz (I even spelled it with a “z” to make it manlier) about how I truly feel. And as welcoming as my female friends are, those conversations often times result in me hearing about them. So, considering that there’s always a yin to any cheerful yang, I constantly find myself in deep dialogue with Sam. And it amazes me that in this life he will never know me. But in a parallel universe, through his music, I become him -- belching out tales of triumph and defeat...with the audio wavelengths between speaker and listener serving as the forum and passageway of my heart’s dissent.

The ability to love someone forever is meaningless without the capacity to hate them endlessly.

-- Sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/jubcivazf9

He ended the show with today’s song. To me, this song is about him talking to an ex-lover before as he dies and loses her forever.


THE TRAPEZE SWINGER
Please, remember me
Happily
By the rosebush laughing
With bruises on my chin
The time when
We counted every black car passing
Your house beneath the hill
And up until
Someone caught us in the kitchen
With maps, a mountain range
A piggy bank
A vision too removed to mention
But

Please, remember me
Fondly
I heard from someone you're still pretty
And then
They went on to say
That the pearly gates
Had some eloquent graffiti
Like "We'll meet again"
And "Fuck the man"
And "Tell my mother not to worry"
And angels with their great
Handshakes
Were always done in such a hurry
And

Please, remember me
At Halloween
Making fools of all the neighbors
Our faces painted white
By midnight
We'd forgotten one another
And when the morning came
I was ashamed
Only now it seems so silly
That season left the world
And then returned
And now you're lit up by the city
So

Please, remember me
Mistakenly
In the window of the tallest tower
Calling passers-by
But much too high
To see the empty road at happy hour
Gleam and resonate
Just like the gates
Around the holy kingdom
With words like "Lost and found"
And "Don't look down"
And "Someone save Temptation"
And

Please, remember me
As in the dream
We had as rug-burn babies
Among the fallen trees
And fast asleep
Aside the lions and the ladies
That called you what you like
And even might
Give a gift for your behavior
A fleeting chance to see
A trapeze
Swing as high as any savior
But

Please, remember me
My misery
And how it lost me all I wanted
Those dogs that love the rain
And chasing trains
The colored birds above their running
In circles around the well
And where it spells
On the wall behind St. Peter
So bright with cinder gray
And spray paint
"Who the hell can see forever?"
And

Please, remember me
Seldomly
In the car behind the carnival
My hand between your knees
You turned from me
And said, "The trapeze act was wonderful
But never meant to last"
The clown that passed
Saw me just come up with anger
When it filled with circus dogs
The parking lot
Had an element of danger
So

Please, remember me
Finally
And all my uphill clawing
My dear
But if I make
The pearly gates
Do my best to make a drawing
Of God and Lucifer
A boy and girl
An angel kissing on a sinner
A monkey and a man
A marching band
All around the frightened trapeze swingers

Na-na
Na-na-na
Na-na
Na-na . . .

"Bucktown" - Smif N Wessun

So I was talking to the homie (won’t mention his name without his permission) and he’s in New York right now and it’s like damn. Fuck, even I get excited for my friends to go to New York for work or whatever. But he mentioned that he was at a bar with a bunch of suits and he heard nothing but classic joints (Itsowezeee) and stuff.

And that’s what I’m talking about. I think the strongest indication of any city or venue is their music. It’s a magnet man. You have a dope club and play some wack ass shit and it’ll either go for broke or it’ll level out with divorced lawyers and lame ass frat guys. Or you can have a shitty ass bar with good music and all of a sudden it’s the coolest place in town. The shittier the better, right? Well, eventually it gets recognition and then the yuppies come in and fuck it all up all over again. But they stand there, in the shitty environment, and they have no idea why they’re there other than they’re there because they’re supposed to be there. And you know, as the speakers praise the hip hop gospel, they’re erratically tapping their feet, itching and yearning for something familiar...

Usher maybe.
(Justin Timberlake hopefully)
But wait, I saw Hustle and Flow, where is that “Stomp that Bitch” song?
Let’s pray for some Jimmy Buffet
Anticipating, waiting for Sweet Caroline...

New York is full of said bars. The homie even told me so. First time I went there I walked into a random bar full of suits, and Tribe’s “Oh My God” was playing. The closest thing I’ve experienced here in LA was at The Dime (Fairfax Village). Walked in there randomly to celebrate a softball victory. Saw a bunch of Hollywood glam people, all attractive with sunglasses and cowboy hats and fancy, leather pants and they were all grooving. Paid attention to the snare in the beat and all of a sudden I was taken aback. If I was wearing Heelys I would’ve slipped and broken my tailbone. Today’s song was on and I was like, “Holy shit, that’s dope. These l people have no idea what they’re dancing too! They like to dance to this shit!”

I paused, then thought to myself, “Wow, that’s dope. I choose to live by this shit.”

Celebrate good times, c’mon!

-- Sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/bg6hq7c3p8

I apologize for all the swear words. I’m just very intense right now. Every time someone mentions New York I go ape shit. The city was meant for me.

"Eucalyptus" - The Deadly Syndrome

Hello All,

Wow, where the hell did she come from? Taryn must have been smoking hash in the caves of Afghanistan with Osama for a hot minute now. Alas, she’s back with a vengeance. Remember, she’s the one that brought uhhhh....Material Issue to us. Didn’t you also bring Kill Hannah? Whatever. What sucks about Taryn is that no matter how cool and obscure I think my music taste is, she comes out of nowhere with some bands that would have never landed in my net. So, not only am I thankful I’m also inferior. Fuck guys, have you seen her hair? Sassier than a motherfucker...











Either way, thanks Taryn. Here’s what she had to say......

Hey. I want to amend what I wrote earlier...use this below. (It's late, and I decided that they're not as uplifting and feel-good as I imagined.)

So...The Deadly Syndrome...they've got this weird, quirky sound that can be many things - quiet, somber, eerie, and they can rock. They're local, and playing with a few other bands at the Christmas Sweater Festival on Dec 14th...which is kind of brilliant - I love a festive sweater party.

Enjoy,

Sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/74bcqaovou

First Time Listening to M. Ward

Hello All,

So people send me stuff and I give them their fair amount of attention. I put on my headphones, look up the lyrics, ignore all things work-related and just analyze away. Someone sent me a few songs from M. Ward. Here’s what he had to say:

"it's very simple, if you don't like this guy, i'm never sharing any
music with you ever again because i obviously have no idea what you
like."

I don’t mind sharing my feedback because this person isn’t on the list......but if you think I might be a little brash, here’s what I told him:
---------------------------------------------------------

Dude, I always enjoy people's recommendations. Here's what I think:

Big Boat - sounds like I'm in Dixieland. Like on a paddleboat in the Mississippi with a parasol twirling above my head and people dressed in TGIFridays uniforms running about.

Deep Dark Well - sounds like Norm MacDonald sitting at the end of the bar, drinking scotch to cope with his professional shortcomings, as Andy Samberg's Hot Rod trailer blares on the TV above him, out of the corner of his eye.

Radio Campaign - remember those little Fisher Price push toys that you had when you were a kid? The ones where you would push it like a lawnmower, and these little colorful balls would pop and burst in this clear, plastic dome? I would imagine this is what this song is about his childhood. I like how at the 2:16 mark where he escalates his voice, Mariah Carey style, just to drill it home.

You Still Believe In Me – what kind of title is this? It’s only instrumental; and still I don’t feel this really depicts that feeling of “still believe in me.” it might seem to be more like “welcome to Rainforest Café, how many people are on your safari?” This is the kind of music you hear when you see those nature programs of a snake sidewinding its way down a sand dune in the middle of the Sahara. Either that or like, it’s the score of some low budget, South American porn where you can barely hear faint whispers of “aye papi.”

Hi-Fi – I appreciate that little Colin Hay in this, but that part where says “hi fi” and “my mind” it reminds of Mariah Carey hitting the high note in “emotions.” I’ve mentioned her twice already and even Mariah Carey reminding me of Mariah Carey is too much for me to handle. I enjoy this melody, I’ll give it a 3-star rating and see where it lands next time I hear it.

One Life Away – I like this one a lot! You know I like the dark, chamberlike, hollow sound. I really like this song. I can’t wait to hear it while I’m high on a rainy afternoon; it’ll take on a whole different form. I really like this one. I’ll send it out on my music email today.

Thanks man, keep sending away and I’ll keep jabbing (or jibbing) away.

"The Ghost of Genova Heights" - The Stars

(Written at 1:06 PM, on November 11, 2007)

Crimson eyes
Cloudy recall
Perfectly clear evening
It’s noon thirty
Enough alcohol in my body to sterilize the surgical tools of a hospital
What the fuck am I to do?
Throw up?
Done that
In the bathtub
While I was taking a bath

Room service?
Mozzarella and tomato panini on its way
What else?
I took those silly looking herbal pills in the convenience store downstairs.
I hope they aren’t penis enlargement pills
(or do I)

I should eat some bread to soak up all this liquor.
Screw that
I’m eating a towel.

I’m so refined and cultured.
I think Vegas is a very tacky city.
A false reality, no doubt.

Know what’s lame about advertising?
Phrases like, “putting out a fire” (thanks for that one Andrew)
Seriously, is that what I’m doing?
Running up flights of stairs
And like carrying a hose and stuff?
Or like, looking like the BONE Thugs and Harmony music video for, “Tha Crossroads?"

There’s a fire alright.
The title of my blog is
INTERNAL MIND INFERNO

I was going to name it Soul On Ice

But culture doesn’t stand a chance against the 800 lb gorilla of this city.
I love the campaign for Las Vegas. One of the best campaigns ever.
It piles on the pressure for people to leave the city with outrageous stories
Even I succumbed to it.
I’m so unrefined and oblivious.

As of late, wisdom has come to me in the form of coffee shop conversations
Surfboard conversations
Go is one deep motherfucker and one of the best commanders of English dialogue
Ladies, pay attention to him
(Go, that doesn’t mean you can cock block me)
Good thing you have much higher standards than me
I won’t just fuck anything that walks

I’d do a paraplegic
Watch Murderball, satisfaction guaranteed

However, today
Wisdom paid a visit to me.

In the form of a panini sandwich
Served by the name of Jorge
...an 800 lb gorilla

(was that a good ending? Should I have cut it off sooner?)

Since I’m hungover and lacking in tact right now, I’m just going to out on a limb and say this,

I am so grateful that you guys enjoy my writing.

I’m going to take it one step further and drop another gem on you.

Keeping a journal is not for the sake of expressing your innermost thoughts.

It’s for the possibility of someone discovering them.

Now, to my panini.

-- Sonnyred

“Wow, he’s really lost it.”
“At least he just made up for that penis enlargement pill comment”
“He just really took me on that mental journey.”
“Dude, this piece of shit is programming my thoughts”

http://www.box.net/shared/iilrifiemv