Tosh Plays Tosh

African
Peter
Andrew

Legalize It
Peter
Andrew

Rastafari Is
Peter
Andrew

Pick Myself Up
Peter
Andrew

Coming In Hot
Peter
Andrew

Johnny B. Goode
Peter
Andrew

+ + +

Peter:

"I am going to kill the fuckery out there, and people are going to be in demand for the truth. People are sick and tired of hearing bumboclaat get down shake your fucking booty, seen?"

Andrew?

+ + +

Skrowaczewski / Zappa on Live Constructions

WKCR

This Sunday

May 4th

9pm (Eastern Standard Time)

"Live Constructions"

With your host Ben Young

Listen over the internet (or radio if you're near.)

Nick Skrowaczewski / Stanley Jason Zappa

Drums / Tenor Saxophone

Recorded July 2007

Slash What The Fuck

Exhibit A.

But the nonprofit group Arf Society, which organizes the event, also sells merchandise complete with the unmistakable logo depicting Zappa's unique facial hair, the moustache-soul patch combo. And that, says Gail Zappa, Frank's widow and head of the Zappa Family Trust, violates the Zappa trademark. She is suing the group for €150,000 ($236,000) in damages and an additional €250,000, should the Zappanale continue selling Zappa merchandise.

Has the Arf Society caused €150,000 in "damages" to anyone? What means this "damage?" How does one party prove that €150,000 has been damaged away from another party through the sale of tee shirts, tote bags and coffee mugs with a logo depicting facial hair? Is that the kind of thing you learn in law school? Sounds fun!

Was Frank Zappa the first person to have that "unique" facial hair? Was he the only person to have that "unique" facial hair?

$ $ $

Her real concern though, she says, is her husband's legacy.

"One of the reasons you file a trademark is to protect the works of a person," Gail Zappa told SPIEGEL ONLINE in a telephone interview. "I felt we were getting into territory where we were putting the audience at risk in terms of who Frank was. You become concerned."

How does one harm music? (Are all my efforts to destroy Mozart's music really in vain?) How does one protect music? Is it "music" that is harmed and protected, or is it an individual's ability to make money off of someone else's labor that is harmed or protected?

How does someone put someone "at risk in terms of who Frank was?" Who is this "we" that is putting the audience at risk "in terms of who Frank was?" Was it the evil tribute bands?

Who became concerned? The "at risk" audience? Was this concern consumer driven or producer driven?

"Help us, we are an audience and we are concerned about being at risk in terms of who Frank was!"

$ $ $

"She is harming Frank Zappa's legacy much more than she is helping it," Dippel says. "I have talked to a number of people who are planning on boycotting all Zappa products in the future."

How does one harm or help a legacy? Can't you only do that with a time machine? The works of Frank Zappa are forever set in zeros and ones for anyone interested in that work. (period.) Zappa's legacy is his work, and his work is easily available to all, and that work is now and forever unchanging.

That people are "unofficially" performing Zappa's music ultimately does nothing to the reality of Frank Zappa's music, some of which has been in shrink wrap for almost 40 years.

Has anyone proven that "unofficial" performances of Frank Zappa's music have caused "damages" (€150,000 or otherwise) to (the now dead) Frank Zappa?

Has anyone proven that "unofficial" performances of Frank Zappa's music have created "competition" for other organizations performing the music of Frank Zappa, "officially" or otherwise?

Yes, yes, the rules say, the rules the rules the rules--but really now, how do you prove those kind of things?

$ $ $

"Would the Zappanale folks be doing this if Frank was still alive? No fucking way," she says. "We licensed performances when he was still alive. But you at least check to make sure they do a good job. I'm sure he would probably do what I am doing."


A good job according to whom? The composer (who is now dead) or someone other than the composer?

What constitutes a "good job?" Is that which constitutes a "good job" a static thing, or can it change?

Does Charles Gayle do a "good job" playing Naima? Does Michael Brecker?

How about this robot--does it do a "good job" at playing Giant Steps? The robot is playing it faster than Coltrane did. Faster is better, no? Should "we" sue the robot just for good measure?

$ $ $

Gail -- who refers to the statue as an "impish creature" that "doesn't look like Frank Zappa unless you argue that putting a moustache on any face looks like Frank Zappa" -- says that very little communication has taken place with the Zappanale. "I've long known that there was this quote-unquote festival slash event slash what the fuck," she says.

But then along comes "quote-unquote festival slash event slash what the fuck"--which is genius. Pure genius--and it is a genius that I, as an artist, shall take and use for my own, in the same way that lesser minds (like me) have done with (to?) greater geniuses since the beginning of expression. So now, when people ask me what kind of music I do (which isn't very often) as of this moment forward I tell them "slash-what-the-fuck" music.

There really is a little good in everything.

$ $ $

But she also claims that the organizers have not responded to requests by her lawyers to detail exactly what kind of products they are selling and how great the turnover is. She insists, however, that her primary concern is the music. "My obligation, which I cannot be relieved of by anyone other than Frank Zappa, is to protect the intent and integrity of his music," she says. "That's my job. I have no choice."

Maybe I already asked this, but how does one protect the "intent" let alone the "integrity" of someone else's music that is already released and recorded by the artist himself, who is now dead? (But the shrink wrap--nothing can get through shrink wrap...)

I really am asking. Yes yes, "integrity"--don't let sell D. Boon's song to Volvo, blah blah blah. But "intent?" How does one protect "intent?" How does someone other than the artist who created in the work in question know what the artist's intent was in creating that work in the first place--let alone the intent of someone like Frank Zappa?

(It's all so radionic!)

Was Frank Zappa really so simple that his intent could be understood? Did Frank Zappa understand Frank Zappa's intentions? Did he ever communicate those intentions verbally or in a language other than music? Have Frank Zappa's intentions become more or less clear in the last decade, or have they stayed constant? Again, I am asking from a place of not knowing.

Is it possible to create a work without intent? What if the intent of the artist creating a particular work of art is to document "being in the [passing] moment without intent"--as can sometimes be the case in an "improvisation?" How does one "protect" that intent? Do "improvisations" even deserve "protection?" Are improvisations even music? Are improvisors even musicians?

How is one to gauge the effectiveness of a protection bestowed upon an "intent?" How about the effectiveness of a protection bestowed upon an "integrity?" Is that something an accountant measures, or can that be gauged with one of them thetan readers?

Does it take [personal] integrity to protect the integrity of a body of work?

What does it look like when a body of work's integrity is well protected? Which dead artist's integrity of body of work is well protected? (Is that even a sentence?)

Is the integrity of Richard Wagner's work well protected? Is the integrity of the works of Michael Jackson well protected? How about Phil Spector? Does he count? How about the "intent" of the afore mentioned artists? What can we say about Richard Wagner's intent? What can we say about Michael Jackson's intent? Is the "intent" of their work under siege, or is the "reality" of their person under siege? What if you just like the Jackson 5?

(I know it sounds like I'm being a smart ass, but I'm really trying to make sense of this. While "protecting integrity and intent" all reads very well on the video monitor, I just don't know what it really means. Of course, I am [foolishly and quaintly] operating under the assumption that words have meaning, so all of this is probably a waste of my time and, if you've read this far, definitely a waste of yours.)

If, however, in the event words do mean something--anything--then how is it that Gail Zappa has "no choice" in what she is doing? How is it that "only Frank Zappa" (who is dead) can relieve her of her "Job?"

Is that slavery? Is that legal? Aren't there rules against that? Can't someone be punished? Can't all problems be fixed with money?

$ $ $

Exhibit B.

Before his death in 1993, Frank Zappa offered his wife many earnest bits of advice. One piece, in particular, was to be applied to the music business that the composer, guitarist and bandleader had worked within and battled against for much of his 30-year career.

”Get out.“

It sounds to me like someone has just been relieved of their "Job"--but only on planet Words-Mean-Something.

$ $ $

Gail Zappa's work as head of the Zappa Family Trust is to preserve perhaps the most vital ­aspect of her husband's work: artistic intent.

If you could preserve only one, which one would you preserve:

1. The aural reality of Zappa's work--you know, the 50 some odd discs he completed himself while alive that you can play in a CD player and purchase on the internet and are preserved in shrinkwrap anyway

or

2. The silent "artistic intent" as codified by someone other than the (now dead) Frank Zappa that cannot be played in your CD player? nor realized in any three dimensional way what so ever?

$ $ $

”It's like what they write on the side of the cars of the Los Angeles Police Department: "To Protect and Serve,'“ said Zappa, who will visit Lexington on Friday as the keynote speaker of the American Musicological ­Society's South-Central Chapter conference. The talk, followed by a concert of his music, is free and open to the public.

What is being protected and who is being served? Is the artist who created the work in the first place but who is now dead enjoying this protection, or is it someone other than the artist who is being protected? Is the artist who created the work in the first place but who is now dead being served, or is someone other than the artist who is being served?

$ $ $

Hey everyone, it's Let's Pretend Time:

Let's pretend we put some favorite Zappa albums (CD's, subcutaneous chips, etc) and put them in a lead lined box--a vault if you will--for safe keeping. Let's see...a copy of Crusin' with Reuben and the Jets, Tinsel Town Rebellion, Shut up and Play your Guitar, Civilization Phase Three, Studio Tan...there, that should do it.

Now let's pretend every man woman and child on the face of the earth grew "unique facial hair" and spent the rest of their days playing Frank Zappa's music to the exclusion of all other music and activity; fuck farming, forget medicine, adios to driving the bus, no more pizza delivery, no Coltrane, no Bach, no Dixon, no Lebenden Toten, no Keisha Chante--just Frank Zappa's music 24-7...For the next 300 years.

Finally lets pretend that in 300 years people still know how to operate shovels and CD players. From under a 60 foot pile of fast food wrappers, court documents, crack pipes, robot parts and red white and blue glitter, out comes our lead lined box and in go the CD's and the sub-cutaneous music chips in to the respective players.

Did the music change? Hold on, where did that other set of foot prints go?

What if the answer is no? What if the music stayed the same? What if all those ones and zeros stayed in the same order?

But really now--will there even be music 300 years from now? Will there be a 300 years from now? If there is a 300 years from now, and there is music, who will be make it? Will it sound anything like the music of today? More importantly, will there still be lawyers and "music law?"

$ $ $

”My job is to protect the intent and the integrity of the work. That's the deal,“ she said.

Who's deal? What are the qualifications for the job, or is it a bloodline thing like the US presidency and all the well paying jobs?

$ $ $

”Has the government changed?“ Gail Zappa asked in reply. ”People with rules, they never seem to change. They just add more.

How about punishments? Do "people with rules" just add more punishments when they "just add more rules?" What is it about our western addiction to rules and punishment? Rules and punishment, rules and punishment, rules and punishment.

Police and thieves.

Good and Evil.

Hate and War.

Laughs and chuckles.

How about people with power? How are they with rules? Any kind of general, rule-of-thumb track record for mixing people with power, rules and punishment?

$ $ $

”I think some people, in an effort to preserve the status of their sort of elitism, have this attitude that has prevailed and prevented anything really imaginative, interesting, wonderful or creative to occur in a concert hall. It's all more of the same."

Isn't "the same" a valuable commodity? Isn't "different" a real liability? Isn't "the same" the thing that drives the economy--you know, repeatability?

And isn't "the same" and "repeatability" and serving the economy and lawyers and litigation and rules and punishment the essence/intent/integrity of Zappa (tm)?

(This could very well be a "trick" question to which I don't know the answer.)

$ $ $

Is it really a "prevailing attitude" that prevents "anything really imaginative, interesting, wonderful or creative to occur in a concert hall" or is it something different...something else...something a little more concrete (and menacing) than an "attitude?"

Or maybe it is all about attitude. I've heard more than one gym teacher tell me that. What do I know?

(Haven't we always been at war with Oceana?)

$ $ $

Exhibit C.

Exhibit C [sub one]

Zappa plays Zappa is an official presentation of Frank Zappa's music because this performance series is licensed by the Zappa family trust.

This is absolutely true and it says nothing about music, only the presentation of the music, and when I think of presentations of music, I think of Drama students forming bands. Funk bands in particular.

Can music be official? Can the shoe of music really be smeared with the shit of officialdom?

$ $ $

The decision to license is governed by two factors: the performances must be in accordance with, that is, respects the intent of the Composer and the integrity of the works.

Say I wanted to license a work by Frank Zappa. Who chooses and by what criteria does one determine whether or not the "intent" and "integrity" the composer is being "respected?" Not only must someone other than the composer know what the composer's (licensee) intent was, but they must also know the musician's (licensor) intent vis a vis the initial intent in their decision to perform the licensee's music.

(did I get the licensee/licensor thing right?)

Is that criteria "musical" in nature, or is that criteria "extra musical" in nature? Do "musical concerns" trump "extra musical concerns" or is it the other way around?

Doesn't licensing sound fun? Isn't that why we all got into music in the first place...to license it?

$ $ $

Speaking of fun, I heard a rumor that last year's vision festival performance by Bill Dixon and Orchestra is to be released some time this summer.

Who? Where?

Allan Holdsworth is playing in the little town where I grew up.

Anyone out there give a shit about Allan Holdsworth? It seems like he's someone you either love or hate. Most of my friends hate his music. They hear that clean, chorus tone and they just bug.

Once upon a time, my friend Rich played in a "country rock" type outfit. The group would perform at the same geographic location where Allan Holdsworth will be performing. As you can imagine, the venue has changed significantly in the last several years.

If I have the story correct, the leader of said "country rock" band gave Rich the specific instruction that he was not to play any of those "Allan Holdsworth faggot chords"--meaning any chords containing an interval of a 7th, 9th, 11th, or 13th.

I sent an e-mail to Rich asking if he was going. The initial response was that he hadn't heard about it. How is it that I, over 3000 miles away heard about it and he, 30 miles away didn't? What the hell is that all about? The second E-mail said he got tickets and he is going to see the performance with a mutual friend who, like Rich and I, knew and played music (albeit in varying degrees and differing capacities) with Jon Van Wie.

I used to take guitar lessons from Jon when I was wee tot. I took those lessons in the same town where I grew up and where Allan Holdsworth will be performing. In so doing, I learned early that Jon was as great a man and as consummate and bitchin' a musician as any who have ever walked this earth. Jon had a superhuman facility with his hands, as well as an equally super human ability to memorize. A wonderful guitar player. A motherfucker of a guitar player. How motherfucking? Memorizing guitar solos by Allan Holdsworth on the record Metal Fatigue. He also had Pat Martino's solo from "Sonny" memorized. As well as the Eddie Van Halen canon. And the Steve Vai canon (up to Eat Em And Smile.) And there he was, teaching guitar in the basement of the music store.

(To give you a sense of context, Jon and Steve Vai were at Berklee at the same time.)

Were that not all enough, Jon went on to be a consummate and bitchin' mouthpiece maker/reface-er. He worked for a lot of people. Taking a census of all his clients would be a sprawling, star studded project.

I have two of his mouthpieces, one of which still works. The other got dropped on a cement floor and broke. I can remember that day as if it happened moments ago. Thankfully when I remember that episode, I no longer crap my pants and start crying as I did for so long. Losing that mouthpiece was like losing Jon all over again. I replaced it with a Berg Larsen. While it's no Jon Van Wie, I am quite pleased with it.

Jon also made me a metal mouthpiece. I tried and I tried and I tried, but I just couldn't do it. For some reason, I can't play metal mouthpieces (any more.) I don't know why--I used to have a Lawton and a Sugal and a Rovner (I think) and they were all metal, and I liked them just fine. But this one was just too much to handle--something about the finish on the brass. It put my teeth on edge and made me feel like I was putting an unfair strain on my liver.

I sent it back to him on the understanding that he would make me a(nother) hard rubber one. He sold that metal mouthpiece to David Liebman. Shortly there after Jon Van Wie passed away.

I wrote David Liebman and asked him if I could purchase the mouthpiece back from him, regardless of price, as said mouthpiece means more to me than it could ever possibly mean to David Liebman, so on and so forth.

His reply was that he was keeping it as a "spare."

And that was the end of that.

+ + +

There is a lot to like about Allan Holdsworth, or there was back in the late 80's and early 90's. I've heard some more recent things of his on the interweb and they certainly still have the same appeal. That appeal (for me) is his sui generis concept of harmony, followed closely by his ability to nimbly realize those concepts. Who doesn't love a lot of notes going by really quickly? What's great about Allan Holdsworth is that for the most part, none of those notes repeat. What's not to like about run-on sentences of notes played from one end of the guitar to the other really quickly?

With Holdsworth, more than any other "fusion" artist I can think of, my sorrow is that he never collaborated with the "free" drummers. Who wouldn't want to hear a trio with Allan Holdsworth, Rashid Bakr and William Parker? How far of a stretch is it from Cecil Taylor to Allan Holdsworth? Yes, yes, quite a distance, I know--but they're closer than most. Closer than Axel Rose and Cecil Taylor, for one. Regardless, I'd go out of my way to check Allan Holdsworth with Rashid Bakr and William Parker out. Wouldn't you?

That's not to say he's surrounded himself with losers. For a while there he was playing with Chad Wackerman. Is that who he's touring with now?

From Frank Zappa to Allan Holdsworth. What must it be like to be Chad Wackerman? Even if you don't give a shit about Frank Zappa or Allan Holdsworth you have to admit, Chad Wackerman has had some unique experiences in music. If "unique" means anything anymore, the Holdsworth/Wackerman axis certainly seems auspicious on paper--though I cannot lay claim to having ever actually really listened to any of their collaborative work for actual-real.

(Pass the pulitzer.)

Nevertheless, the story is as much about the little town where I grew up, as it is about Allan Holdsworth. I think the last gig as atomic as this one was when Bush I flew in to "Vets field" for a rally. I remember seeing a spattering of Marines "securing the perimeter". That was pretty creepy. I also remember many of the girls at school were really really excited!!! That was totally creepy.

Then, the town was a 98% Republican community. Now I would imagine that number is somewhere near 99.993%. Then again, now that it doesn't matter, his (Bush II's) popularity could have slipped somewhere around 96.66% Because really, who doesn't like to kick someone when they're down?

Do Republicans like Allan Holdsworth? Is that the Allan Holdsworth demographic--republicans living in suburban New Jersey?

Does anything make sense anymore?

Springtime, Sunny Murray and Me Me Me

Yes, yes, Sunny Murray.

Soon it will be spring, and the better part of a season of hurt words will have come and gone with barely any hurt words having been slung. Instead all that's been happening is a lot of worrying and fretting about bringing this goddamn Sonny Murray liner note up to "presentation standards." Ha...as if!

Rather than exhuming 2 year old liner note that no one gave a shit about in the first place, let's instead take a stroll down memory lane and revisit the "social conditions" behind the failed essay in question.

That said, I realize the chances are good that the four of five of you who intentionally tune in with any regularity have already heard the story or don't give a fuck one way or the other.

I also realize that the four of five of you who intentionally tune in with any regularity see this blog nonsense as the tawdry substitution for any meaningful participation in music that it is. But better "a bunch of imaginary notes" than throwing rocks through bank windows, so bear with me.

+ + +

The very fine Les Perles Noirs, featuring (among others) the very wonderful pianist John Blum was still getting put together in January of 2005. I was asked to do the liner note, then I was asked not to do the liner note.

Compared to the indignities endured before, during and after, "losing the contract" was a mere speck against the much larger yellow and brown drip painting that was my situation at the time.

I had just moved away from Portland. You see, when the New York Times starts to write about something, that means it's "in the cross-hairs" or, as in the case of Portland, already dead. I realize this may be confusing to the countless aspirants looking for the antidote to their even more fucked up metropolitan/suburban dystopia, to say nothing of the millions of New York Times readers who not only take what ever the New York Times says as truth but see the New York Times as a force of civilizing good.

As thousands migrated North from Los Angeles to get their PNW on at The Doug Fir, I migrated South to Los Angeles to come to terms with a festering family problem. Not a real auspicious start to a life after Portland.

My hatred for Los Angeles is different than my hatred for the San Fernando Valley and yet I hate them both the same amount. Isn't that something? Do I hate them more than New York City? That's a tough call. I like the plants of Los Angeles, and I am encouraged by the fact that after the robots and plagues and every other damn thing working day and night to solve the human problem finally triumphs, plant life will consume Los Angeles rather quickly. Then I imagine it will quickly die away, as there won't be anyone left to turn the hoses on.

New York is a little different. Plant life is going to have a tougher time in New York not because of the climate or ecosystem, but because of the overwhelming concentration of human urine and feces saturating the streets and subways and many of the apartment floors and stairwells and entrances. In Los Angeles, the human urine and feces is more disperse across the geography. Los Angeles is more like range. New York is more like a feed lot.

For most of my time in Los Angeles, I lived in a 125 square foot apartment just off Melrose. There was no kitchen (food comes from a menu, silly) and there was scary blue carpeting with no discernible carpet pad underneath. Not like that really mattered; almost immediately upon entering my new home, one of my dogs made a spectacular (auspicious?) diarrhea on the carpet. There wasn't much a carpet pad was going to do in that situation.

Next to my 125 square foot apartment was another building--it was one of those classic situations where the only window looks out on to a wall. Even more classic is that said wall had extensive fire damage from the airplane that crashed into it a few years earlier. How auspicious is that?

Oddly enough, shortly after arriving, I came down with a horrible cold. A memorable cold--memorable in a history of memorable illnesses. Oddly enough, it seemed to last the entire time I was in LA. Hmm.

I guess because the architecture of the building next to mine was so grand, and because the air craft was a small one, the building was in the process of being rebuilt, as opposed to being razed entirely and built anew. Construction started at 7:30 am. Well, the noise started at 7:30 am. The nail guns started doing their thing significantly later in the day.

Because Southern California is actually a Mexican territory, most of the employees at the construction site 5 feet away from the one window in my 125 square foot apartment spoke and (mostly) sung in Spanish. Each morning I would awake to the best hits of the 70's 80's and 90's sung in Spanish by the construction dudes across the way.

When there was an English word in the song they didn't know, or they didn't have a suitable translation for, they would simply sing "na na naaaaa naaa" and everything ended in an unnerving Tejano cry that went "aaaaaaaaaa yiiii yiiii yiiiiiiiii!"

For example, the Thin Lizzy hit "The Boys are Back in Town" went something like this

"told them na na naaa down town"
"na na naaaa old men loco"
"Los boys are back in town, los boys back in town"
"Los boys are back in town, aaaaaaaaaa yiiii yiiii yiiiiiiiii!"

Similarly, the Pretenders hit "Back on the Chain Gang" went sort of like

"na na naaa beyond my control, na na na naaa na na"
"I'm back on el Chain Gang, "aaaaaaaaaa yiiii yiiii yiiiiiiiii !""

Those two songs seemed to be real favorites. Long after the radio had been turned off you could still hear construction dudes singing "yo soy back on el chain gang, "aaaaaaaaaa yiiii yiiii yiiiiiiiii !" and "los boys are back in town, back in town, "aaaaaaaaaa yiiii yiiii yiiiiiiiii !" as if they all had Tourette's syndrome and Thin Lizzy and the Pretenders were their tics.

Believe it or not, that always started my day with a smile, even if that smile only lasted 10 to 15 minutes.

Much of the un-smile had to do with the residual effects of my grandmother's passing--specifically the "collateral damage" resulting from the sale of my grandmother's house. Apparently the terms of the real estate deal were such that the remaining resident (my uncle) was not included in the purchase of house.

Not only was I coming to terms with the fact that I no longer lived in Portland, not only was I living in 125 square feet of polyester carpeting and animal excrement, not only was there thick angry mucous in my nose and lungs at all times, not only were the (mostly Spanish) Boys back in town, not only was I trying to put together some vaguely humane, non-indicting narrative explaining why my special needs uncle was being evicted from his home of over 30 years, but I had this Sunny Murray liner essay to write.

Which was good. Without the focused listening and transmutation of sound into words, without the sparkly feeling that come with the knowing (or pretending anyway) that I too would be a "part of"--a collaborator this groovy happening featuring the not only the wonderful Sunny Murray, but also my dear friend of over a decade, the equally wonderful John Blum on the very prestigious and personally much admired Eremite label, I don't know what I would have done.

Working on that essay was, as they say in gospel circles "a rock in a weary land."

And so it went: family shit getting too nuts? Put on the Sunny Murray. Tired of parallel parking the F-350 crew cab on Melrose? Turn up the Sunny Murray. The boys are back in town? Introduce them to Sunny Murray.

The other mental sanctuary was a book called Ether God and Devil by Dr. Wilhelm Reich. Have I mentioned Ether God and Devil yet?

Being in LA, browsing at the finer crystal shops in Hollywood and Van Nuys, reading Reich and listening to Sunny Murray made me think there might be a connection. Now, two years later, I am absolutely positive there is a connection. I began to explore those ideas in that fateful non-essay.

Who knew that very constellation of crystals, Reich, Orgone, free improvisation and my failure to enunciate the connection in a readable, non-confrontational, capitalism-friendly, sales-positive manner in very small print on the inside of a CD would inspire a "blog."

While this escapade didn't teach me, it did remind me that failure is a gift that keeps on giving. What's more, it's cheap and plentiful and seems to be available everywhere, at every turn.

The criticism leveled at the essay that I remember most clearly was objection taken to the "marxist hysterics." Yes, yes, I know I know, there's that fag talk again.

I also remember the occasional, though fleeting plea to "talk about the music--talk about what the music sounds like."

Talk about what the music sounds like. Not like you should or do give a fuck, but I have to tell you, it's been two years and I'm still trying to figure out how one talks about how music sounds. Can that really be done? Can it really be done and still be readable? I really am asking.

When management finally decided to cut their losses and go with someone punctual, professional and sensible (Ed Hazel, as I recall) the response from those near and dear to me was

"What the fuck do you mean he isn't going to use your essay?"

Mind you, this reaction by those near and dear to me was less about my missed opportunity, and more about their time with me robbed from them for naught--time that could have been better spent parallel parking the F-350 crew cab on Melrose, for example or driving to crystal shops in Van Nuys.

I realize that time spent listening to Sunny Murray and John Blum, looking at crystals, thinking about Reich wasn't exactly "social" time.

Since the rest of my time was split between navigating social services that weren't available and meditating on the dichotomy between creme brulee not made by Sirio Maccioni (but by his pastry chef) and sugar-free apricot pies pulled from the dumpster behind Jon's, I wasn't the jolly, personable bouquet of sunshine kisses I usually am.

If only I was totally to blame for it all, then that might be something to be proud of. Unfortunately, many others contributed to making my time in LA the nightmare it was--the particular details of which are another story for another time.

Anyhow, both volumes of Les Perles Noires are really quite excellent. Surely you have them both by now. If you don't, visit the Eremite web site and get them. Pick up a copy of the Astrogeny quartet while you're at it.

+ + +

Now that I've finally passed that stone, please stay tuned for more maladjusted invective!

The Eight New Rules

Yes yes, I know, Sunny Murray. I'll get to that eventually. But really, don't get your hopes up--it's just some dumb liner essay that didn't get used anyway.

Since the last post got such great traction on account of Kill Ugly Radio picking it up, (not that Kill Ugly Radio--that other Kill Ugly Radio) I thought I would follow up.

While thinking of "cover bands" and "official cover bands" and "unofficial cover bands" and "intellectual property" and "artists rights" and "artists integrity" and "artist's lawyers" and "artistic cease and desist letters" and all the rest, the voice in my head that keeps a moralistic running commentary on my every thought and deed appeared in my consciousness and told me the new rules. There are 8 that I can remember. There might be more.

Here are the new rules:

1. If your song has an A - B - A form (or a "bridge" of any kind), it is public domain.

2. If your song has a "head" of any kind, it is public domain.

3. If your song employs major or minor tonality, at any point, it is public domain.

4. If your song employs any scales (especially a blues scale), played as a scale, one note after another, it is public domain.

5. If anything in your song repeats (lyrics, triplets played on the guitar with two hands, chords) it is public domain.

6. If your song has words in a language spoken by more than one person, it is public domain.

7. If your song uses instruments made by someone other than you, or if somewhere in your song there is a guitar, it is public domain.

8. If your song can be played by someone other than you, it is public domain. (Everyone can play The Black Page. Who other than Bill Dixon, Tony Oxley, Klaus Koch and Matthias Bauer can play Open Quiet/The Orange Bell?)

Lastly, the voice in my head that keeps a constant running commentary on all my thoughts and actions wanted to make clear that There shall be no legal or court action taken related to anything musical, as music and law have nothing in common.

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Did I leave any rules out?

Thank You Mark!

Before we get to "a little bit right/a little bit wrong," I had occasion to speak with my friend Mark on the telephone. We talked about this and that.

"Tension equals sales" said Mark. "It sounds like Gail took marketing 101"

Tension equals sales. (Tension = Sales)

At first it kind of sounded like Reich. In the end it just sounds like the devilry it is.

Does conflict equal tension? Does conflict also equal sales?

Question: In the entire known history of mankind, has a conflict ever been created on purpose, on schedule to (ultimately) generate sales? No?

Is conflict a commodity? Can "conflict" be packaged, bought and sold as a thing to augment bottom line?

pssst. here's the deal--for a buck a post I'll piss off everyone in your discussion group and have them all at my throats by the middle of march. In so doing, they will go to great economic lengths to crystallize their viewpoints on your product.

Does it matter who wins the conflict, or is just having conflict the point?

Am I just catching on to something everyone else has known for a long time? Is there spinach in my teeth? You would tell me if there was, right?

+ + +

If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all!

How the Zappa Plays Zappa thing is a little bit right: Just the other day a neighbor told the story of a friend of a friend with terminal cancer who went to see ZPZ and felt satisfied in his choice of final concert.

How the "unofficial" Zappa cover band thing is also a little bit right: One of the custodians at my high school--the one who deserves the Nobel Peace Prize for his tolerance and humanity--went to see Project Object when Ike was in the band. He said he had a great time, and seeing Ike was "awesome" because Ike was playing with Frank back when he (the custodian) saw Frank live.

Doesn't that sound win-win to you?

Or is that the problem?

+ + +

I've had quite enough of this litigious crap. I want to talk about Sunny Murray next.