* *

Giving it Away, Until I Think Better of it

2011-12-02T08:06:00.000-08:00

I have been living under various rocks for most of my life but recently emerged from my latest rock to see the weird harsh light of our new digital world. I guess it first happened when my hard drive crashed and I lost all my information, including old demos, new things, and music for listening pleasure. My turntable is broken and getting it fixed is annoying, so, for the first time, I gave illegal downloading a go.

Seems crazy and hypocritical, right? Especially when I ask people to buy my music? Yeah maybe. But all this illegal downloading has exposed me to such great music, from unreleased Can to Les Paul and Mary Ford to Kraftwerk bootlegs to Gene Clark.

It's a weird time in music. If you just enter an album title and "rar" into google, you can download an album and be listening to it in 30 seconds.

In this digital age, it is just insanely easy to steal things, and I myself have recently seen the benefit of it.

So I am putting all my old music up as "pay what you want" on bandcamp.

It's kind of funny/bizarre. Some of the old releases I did not have anymore so I had to google them and 'illegally' download them from filesharing sites.

I am still charging money for special objects... any item I produce that you can hold in your hands will be a special and unique object. But, as far as I can tell, there is no enforceable way to make listeners pay for mp3s.

You can download most of my back catalog here:

http://blankfritz.bandcamp.com

Blank Fritz is the name of my new band, whenever it comes together. For the time being, I am playing alone. Perhaps a bit premature, or perhaps a bit optimistically, I named the site Blank Fritz. Now it is just a name sitting there, a reminder that I am playing solo and have not gotten another band together.

Sunset was always an evolving concept but it went too far in one direction and when that group of people fell apart, I needed a break from the name, even though on many of the recordings I had played everything. It had morphed into another entity. And when that entity died (or, rather, continued on as Sleep Good, gawd bless em) I decided to take a deep long breath.

Ahhhhhhhhhh.

"Yoga Drill Sergeant" at SXSW 2011

2011-03-25T18:28:00.000-07:00

My SXSW 2011 showcase, performed to a confused crowd at The Marq.

"Yoga Drill Sergeant"

Meandering mind

2010-03-03T07:36:00.000-08:00

Here's a soundtrack to my small meditation:
She Came and She Touched Me // Townes Van Zandt

The year has passed quickly and with much event. Started off journeying to California to visit my pregnant sister, also stopping by the Rose Bowl National Championship game. I went to the official tail-gate party on an adjacent golf course and never felt more out of place in my life. Waving banners and smiling people can only welcome you so much. It comforts in a strange way to feel completely isolated from what surrounds you; hard to explain.

Shortly after, I journeyed to Park City for the Sundance Film Fest. I'd done some music for a film out there and thought, what the hell? Not sure if that was my exact thought. Safe guess, though.

I stayed in a massive ridiculous mountainside mansion with a large group of folks I didn't much know. This freed us; we stepped outside whatever we were at home. Long wild nights and not much cinema, actually. I didn't have a badge and didn't want to pay the $15 admission for each screening. So I alternated between jumping in the snow and roasting in the hot tub. Not a bad consolation.

Met a lot of good folks out there. Came home and got back to my normal routine: working at Texas School for the Blind, recording at Baby Blue, writing new songs, reading. Read 4 books by Balzac in the past few months. Can't recommend it enough.

Journeyed to San Francisco for the special sneak preview of "Echotone," a film that centers on me, Belaire, and Joe Lewis, and relates our stories back to trends in Austin's music scene and city development. A very thought-provoking film. Definitely nauseating to see myself on a big screen. I am impressed by how far Nathan Christ (director) and Robert Garza (photographer) have taken this project. Anytime somebody completes a project in Austin, I am amazed.

It's strange. Seems that people have to leave Austin for awhile to learn to finish things, to get past their good intentions and start putting objects into the physical world. Believe me, I was there for a long time. Eventually got shaken out of it.

Now I keep putting out albums and it keeps flowing. I just try to stay grateful and creative, cuz I know it will stop someday. Just finished another album, coming out this summer. It doesn't have all my best songs ever, but I think as a release it's a nice blend of the spaced-out pop of "Bright Blue Dream," the epic arrangements of "Glowing City," and the focus and brevity of "Gold Dissolves to Gray." Ideally, the albums build on each other and sooner or later comes a release that stands on the shoulders of all that came before it. That's what I hope this to be.

But of course you never know what something really is until it's gone. If the song or album or whatever is too close, too painful to touch, you can't be objective about it. It takes time and space and distance. Then you can actually see what the hell you were doing. I guess that's why musicians hire producers, for that outsider perspective, some sense of distance from the creative process. I myself found producers just getting in the way. I just try to let the songs flow out as they will, and not worry too much about any other aspect of the process. Not sure if this is a good or bad thing. It allows ideas to flow outwards, but it's sometimes difficult to maintain perspective, and especially difficult to "market" yourself. Since my days on Capital Records, I've developed an especially strong dislike for that stuff. I am coming around to it, slowly, slowly. These things take time. We're talking about a complete rebirth here.

I will soon return to writing more essays here.

TV Organ

2010-02-16T08:23:00.000-08:00

You can view me talking about the T.V. Organ here:

brain

2010-01-19T21:06:00.000-08:00

New interactive virtual brain and disembodied Bill at website:

--- >www.blondebill.com <---.

--- >www.blondebill.com <---.

--- >www.blondebill.com <---.

--- >www.blondebill.com <---.

more updates sooner or later

"The Ranch"

2010-01-05T09:41:00.001-08:00

I just spent an amazing and magical stint down in Mexico, camping on the beach with friends and family, down a long dirt road about two hours from Zihuatenejo. A long way down there, but worth it.

You can look at my photos here.

Walt Whitman's house

2009-11-23T08:31:00.000-08:00

God I love Walt Whitman. I imagine him standing naked on a rock in the middle of a stream, writing poetry on his arm with a sharpie. Oh wait, that sounds like me.

I was recently in Philly and decided to walk across the Ben Franklin Bridge to Camden, NJ, to see the house where Whitman died. I had been there before, but it's only open by appointment. On my previous visit, there stood a very scary large homeless man outside Whitman's house who offered to be my tour guide and kept hugging me. He smelled terrible.

"Give me a dollar!" he demanded.

"No, sorry."

"How about five dollars?" he asked.

I paused. In these types of negotiations, would he be asking for less money after I tell him no? Needless to say, his strategy did not work out. He and I left on bad terms, I guess... him not getting to "guide" me, and me not gaining entry into the Whitman house.

So I made an appointment and gave another try. And I can honestly say I think Whitman would laugh his ass off at this literary shrine. Everything was perfect and clean and tidy and completely unlike any writer's home I know of. Even the old photos of the place, they show notes strewn everywhere, books left open, dishes with half-eaten food. Yes, Whitman was a messy slob artist just like me. Good to know.

The tour guide was a portly gentleman wearing tight-fitting jeans. He kept hustling me through each room. Upstairs, I looked at Whitman's bed, the bed where he died. Underneath, I saw a large leather tub and tapped it with my foot. Lester, the tour guide, came unglued.

"Don't touch that!" he yelled. I promptly withdrew my foot.

"What is it?" I asked.

"It's the specially made tub that Mr. Whitman used for his sponge baths."

Gulp. Isn't that special.

I looked around the room and it felt so artificial. Hard to explain. I sat in there, trying to wrap my mind around Whitman and his achievement and trying to reconcile my experience of him with this overly tidy museum room, when I heard a tap-tap-tap of Lester the tour guide's foot.

Lester had his arms crossed and kept looking at his watch.

"Is something wrong?" I asked.

"Well, we need to hurry this up. I have a report to write."

And I just burst out laughing. What a beautiful contradiciton, how wonderfully inappropriate. To contrast the reveries inspired by Whitman's poetry with this wheezing, stressed beaureaucrat tending to his legacy. Almost poetic, I'd say.

He recommended I visit the Whitman statue on the Rutgers campus, a few blocks away. I walked through the rain and cold and saw Whitman's figure towering over a courtyard. What a fine fine flowing beard. Underneath the statue, I heard a guy proposing a date with a girl.

"Baby, you wanna go on a date with me?"

"Sure, what you thinkin?"

"I'm thinking this: you, me, the McDonald's Dollar Menu."

"OH YEAH, it's on!"

The two lovebirds slapped high-fives and moved on. Walt Whitman and his beard sat frozen in contemplation.

West Telemarketing, part 2 of 2

2009-09-16T06:42:00.001-07:00

West Telemarketing called its its huge complex the "campus," even though just stepping on the grounds your IQ dropped 10 points or so.

I found the "Interviews" building. It was bland and gray and had ivy growing in small garden beds all on the outside. I imagined interviewing the building itself.

Bill: "Why are you so drab? Why do you suck all the life out of every man who walks through your doors?"
Interview Building: "I take great pleasure in reducing the pleasures and dreams of man into a mediocre rubble."
Bill: "Yes, but why is that exactly?"
Interview Building: "Not sure exactly. Maybe it was bad architecture. Maybe they shouldn't have used stucco. I'm allergic to that shit."

And so forth.

Inside, the walls were plastered with all sorts of "go get em" pep-talking posters, with slogans like "Your future is in your hands!" written under a giant pair of hands holding a wad of cash and a clock. Some sort of reminder about mortality? Or maybe just how expensive clocks can be. Time is money? I just wondered why in the hell somebody would carry that much cash in a pair of open hands. Ever hear of a wallet? And why the hell carry around a wall clock? Isn't that why we use wristwatches?

Also in the interview building hung the poster seen in so many dorm rooms, depicting a Porsche and Ferrari in the garage of a sprawling mansion. The caption read, "The Benefits of Higher Education." Now I can't necessarily argue with the supposition of the poster. But it seemed a strange place for it. West Telemarketing, after all, didn't require any higher education. In fact, the poster seemed to scream: "Get the hell out of here and get a better job! Go back to school for crying out loud!"

I bet they draped all that self-help crap in case folks were having second thoughts. It really seemed a bit ironic to me. These posters promoted initiative, ambition, and excitement, when it was the precise lack of these that would allow someone to succeed there.

Like showing up to a Weight Watchers meeting and urging the attendees to throw caution to the wind. Yeah, thanks, but a little too late. Now was not the time for ambition nor initiative nor excitement. You came to West Tele to be a robot, a paid-slightly-above-minimum-wage-earning robot.

Indeed, everyone looked like robots, especially while wearing "the headset." Sort-of like headphones except with an attached microphone. Its presence was mandatory for all employees, even when not calling customers. You could plug into various ports in the wall for conference calls and things of that sort.

The interview went really quickly. They were basically just testing to see if I was schizophrenic. I'm not even sure that would've disqualified me. I just would be cold-calling a whole different clientele. Who knows? Maybe I would've been promoted.

The following is not the actual interview transcript. But it would be a much better interview, I think, much better suited to the actual work I did at West Tele.

Interviewer: "Are you alive?"
Bill: "Yes."
Interviewer: "Do you plan on using smack, heroin or crystal meth while on the job?"
Bill: "Only in the parking lot."
Interviewer: "Are you stuck in a position in life where you will do anything for a paycheck?"
Bill: "Pretty much."
Interviewer: "So it won't bother you to practically steal money from those who can least afford to lose it? Those dumb enough to fall for our scams?"
Bill: "I'll use my paycheck to get some therapy sessions."
Interviewer: "You're hired."

Did I mention this was a telemarketing job selling overpriced life insurance plans to senior citizens in financially strapped communities? We would drape pleasantries all over these folks while stealing the crumbs off their plate. It's hard to describe the soul-crushing numbness this job makes you feel. Perhaps I should have been alarmed by their high job turnover, but I guess it was that factor precisely that allowed me to get hired.

So yes, the interview went well and I did get hired. And within an hour, I was in the call center, getting my orientation, getting a name-tag, and meeting my fellow co-workers. Frittering away my soul.

The other new employees seemed people wearing a tie for the first time in their lives. I guess I don't know much about tie wearing habits. Just seems like wearing a Tweety tie sort of defeats the whole purpose of wearing a tie or even dressing nicely? Well, everyone had to wear a tie. The content of the tie didn't matter much. I always wanted to make a tie that looked like a rippling chest full of muscles. But West Tele had a way of draining your motivation and I never did make that rippling muscle tie.

The job situation as a whole seemed neatly regimented and very sterile and mediocre. Like a tray of ice cubes allowed to melt in an unplugged microwave. There were 20 building on the campus, each building had two floors, each floor had two halves divided by a glass wall. Every building the same, every parking lot the same, every break area the same. In the main congregation area between the buildings sat always parked a taco truck and a place to immediately cash your checks. I would smoke cigarettes out there and dream of escape and watch people get royally ripped off by the "Instant Cash!" truck.

Each call floor had supervisors and assistant supervisors and even more assistant supervisors. And then just brown-nosing types who wanted to be supervisors and took it upon themselves to point our your faults. Oh, those people just warmed my heart. Like a flamethrower would, perhaps.

I think there is a special section in hell reserved for workplace folks who are not in positions of authority and never will be, but enjoy asserting their imagined superiority. I imagine that special section of hell made up entirely of all these powerless people on power trips, all trying to assert authority over each other.

But in reality some of these people did get promoted and put in positions of some authority, small as it might be. I had three different assistant supervisors.

The only one worth discussing, Ron, had a "Caesar" haircut and strutted around the floor like an angry primate. Well, I guess humans are primates. You know what I'm saying. He swung his arms around, he emphatically pointed his fingers to the sky, he was a "player." Never mind that players don't cold call senior citizens in Arkansas tricking them into buying more life insurance. Perhaps I'm just being a little nitpicky here.

No, really, Ron had skills! As he would kindly remind everyone. It seemed his greatest skill was talking about his skills.

Although he did have this very strange way to get us employees "pumped up." He would strut around the call floor and if he saw somebody who seemed a bit lackadaisical, he would hop on their desk and start doing push-ups.

"Count! Count my push-ups!"
I would count for a little bit, usually up to ten. He would thump his chest. "Doesn't that get you pumped up?!"

Um, no.

But actually he did have a skill, if you consider a lack of something to be a skill. Like his lack of intelligence, for example. This would serve him well at West Tele. Just consider a typical day there:

Slog through traffic, pull off the interstate into the West Tele campus, witness the tragic march of a thousand workers with Tweety ties and sunken eyes and little hopes for the future or self-improvement or even anything beyond next week's San Antonio Spurs game. Sit down at a computer, chair not very comfortable, but before using the chair or equipment you are required to wipe everything down with a moist sanitary antibacterial napkin. boot up your workstation, and you're connected to an unsuspecting victim, or "potential customer." You didn't have any information about the person, but within 5 seconds you could glean the victim's age, race, and financial status. The majority of folks sounded white, poor, and old.

I sold All-state life insurance to these people. Most had insurance already, so it was really quite difficult to make a sale. West Tele knew this. That's why we were rated largely on our call volume. I guess if you call enough people, you're bound to find a sucker somewhere.

OPENING SCRIPT:
"Hello sir, how are you doing today? (pause momentarily for customer answer). That's great, sir. Now I'm calling today to see if you are interested in an incredible opportunity. A way to save money for you and your family. No more piggie banks and hiding money under the mattress. This opportunity could revolutionize your life. Is this something you might be interested in?
(pause for customer response).
Now, what if something happened to you, something tragic or life-ending? You must provide for your family even if you're not there. And that's where All State steps in."

The most difficult part of the job was the automaton nature of it. Every sentence was scripted, every single one. The kind bosses had mapped out every possible rebuttal, too. I would be staring at something like this:

Customer rebuttals:
A) not interested
B) I already have insurance
C) don't need insurance / too young
D) I am covered under my spouse's plan
E) I don't trust you
F) Who is this?
G) I can't talk until I've taken my medication

And so forth. Every rebuttal had its own follow-up script. We were never, ever to go off the script. Except, of course, to interupt the customer and keep him/her on the line.

Employees used to do a drill where we interupted each other by saying, "But please sir, if I may say one last thing..." We sat there in a small room, practicing that technique for an hour. Yes, for an hour, we interupted each sentences. Eventually we would start interupting each others interuptions. We were a highly caffeinated bunch.

But I never really felt comfortable reading scripts and turning off my brain. Like any true slacker, I was looking for a shortcut, an easier way to make sales with less work.

Not long after I took the job, I started going off the script and speaking honestly to the people I was calling. You see, we were trying to sign old people up for All State life insurance. When they signed up, they received three free months of insurance with no obligation to buy more. And it was this that I focused on.

"You could have free life insurance for three months," I would tell them, "and on the first morning of the fourth month just call and cancel and you would not owe a penny."

People could hardly believe their luck when I told them the loophole. My sales went through the roof. I received a bonus check and was brought out to the front of the floor and everyone clapped at my statistics. It was a special moment. Two of my co-workers rolled a large blunt and smoked it in my honor. They told me about this later, while we were smoking a blunt in the parking lot (different occasion). Actually, I just watched them and hung out in the car. The second-hand smoke alone made me unable to complete a sentence for the rest of the day.

I remember my next paycheck after starting the scam was very large. I was being considered for a promotion. And so forth. Perhaps I had taken those posters to heart, the Interview building posters. Initiative! It's in my hands!

But the higher-ups were onto me. They started recording my calls, combing through them. Ron, one of my assistant managers, pulled me aside one day. "We know you're going off the script. That's why this hurts me so bad."

He handed me my report card. At West Tele, we received "report cards" based on our performance. Mine had "F-" written very large across the top.

Wow, an F minus. That's like failing with honors. Or should I say dishonors?

"You know what an F minus means," Ron asked, his face about an inch from mine. He was panting hungrily and his breath smelled like garbage.

"I don't know, I get held back a year," I laughed at my own joke. Ron did not laugh. He got closer, his nose now touching mine.

"It means you're history, shithead." He jumped on my desk and starting flexing his pectoral muscles. "Hit the road."

And I did, thankfully. I don't know why they didn't actually reward me for my behavior. Sure I had violated every rule they had, but I had brought in twice as many customers as my associates. Didn't matter to me now, though. With the commission bonus from my last couple of paychecks I could take a month off and live at my friend's grandmother's house and all would be well. Sneaking warm beer from her shed and trying to meet another girl who would pass me over for a monkey-brained jock-strap.

So I drove home and threw my tie out the window of my car. Freedom! But I realized about two seconds later it was a borrowed tie. I pulled over to the side of the road and ran back for the tie, by now muddy and tire-tracked.

When I arrived back at Brian's grandma's house, where we were both staying, Brian had a surprise for me.

"Dude, I made the most amazing bong! Check it out!"

He had indeed constructed a bong and it looked like a jungle gym for a mouse, all tangled tubes and duct taped pvc pipe. "Yeah, looks great Brian."

Brian smiled on his creation. "I found this long tube in Grandma's closet, it's perfect. Those tubes are expensive, too. So I decided to take advantage. Voila!"

And it worked like a charm. We both smoked from the bong and sprawled back on the couch, watching mindless t.v. and drinking Diet Caffeine-Free Pepsi. It was all his grandmother had in the fridge.

After a bit, Grandma came upstairs and saw the bong on the table.

"My God, Brian, what have you done with my enema tube?"

West Telemarketing, part 1

2009-09-15T07:29:00.000-07:00

I knew lots of pot smokers in high school. We weren't particularly close or anything, but I knew of their existence. Take this guy Brad; he was well-known in our high school for his lung capacity. He could inhale for something like 30 seconds. I'm sure it's helped him along on his life's path.

Brad wore this braided leather necklace that had a wooden mushroom dangling on the end. He wore the necklace tight around his throat, and every time I saw him it made me a little uneasy. Seemed like it would cut off the airflow. But Brad didn't much mind, and didn't seem to care about anything, and therein lied his charm. Brad drifted through his day, his head stuck in the clouds. By clouds, I am course referring to the insane amount of pot the guy smoked before school, between periods, and at lunch. The clouds were actually inside his head.

But no matter. I saw the girls flock towards this Brad character, like flies around a pile of dog shit. A typical interaction:

Girl: "Oh Brad, what's up?"
Brad: "Just chilling. Chilling."
Girl: "What are you up to this weekend?"
Brad: "I dunno? Chilling. Maybe some grilling."
Girl: "Brad, I love how little you talk. You're the strong silent type, aren't you?"
Brad: "Niiiiccce." (Brad would especially draw out his vowels. Perhaps the smoke in his head interfered with his vocal cords in some way).
Girl: "Brad, will you take me home and make love to me, with no strings attached?"
Brad: "Ohhh yeaaaaahhhhh."

And so forth. I was a lot smarter and better looking than Brad, but he had this dumb confidence that appealed to dumb girls. I had heard that dumb girls would "put out," so I naturally tried to make myself dumber, but it always came off wrong. I tried walking slowly, with a certain swagger, but it just looked like I was tip-toeing down the hallway. Some people thought I had been injured.

I also tried smoking pot here and there. I never much had a mind for it. I would laugh uncontrollably at this absurd little world we live in. I guess my high-pitched laughter would be the polar opposite of Brad's oblivious stupor disguised as detached coolness.

Once I tried smoking weed, my lady-skills took a rapid turn for the worse. Not sure how attritubutable it is to the weed, but I determined that the most "natural" way to healthy hair would be to renounce washing my hair altogether. I went several months without washing my hair, and my hair morphed into a stringy, greasy tangle. Like a pile of slivery albino snakes in full revolt.

Needless to say, the women kept away, probably thinking that my hair experiment was contagious in some way. It seems that women want their men laid-back, yes, but not in regards to their hygiene.

My marijuana dabbling continued on past high school, where I found my first post-graduate job, as a camp counselor. I didn't fit in so well at the camp, I guess. When I first arrived, I was jeered and called a "goddamn hippie." Seems I'd left my bubble of friends and stepped into a hornet's nest of short-haired angry white men.

An old friend of mine, Curtis Crow, turned on me quite quickly when I had apparently defected to "the dark side." He greeted my arrival at the camp with a large spit of his chewing tobacco. It splashed all viscous and brown on the parking lot pavement.

"What in the hell are you wearing?" He grabbed a fistful of thrift-store plaid shirt. "You turned into a goddamn hippie. What the fuck happened to you?" I could see this conversation wasn't going anywhere, but I gave it a shot anyhow.

"I'm the same guy I've always been," I said. "Don't be fooled by the hair and clothes."

But Curtis was shaking his head in disgust and didn't seem convinced. He spit his tobacco juice on the sizzling pavement. "You're a fucking traitor. A goddamn hippie."

As I was soon to discover, this summer camp of my youth was actually a breeding ground for many things I'd come to stand against: buzz cuts, fraternity life, bland country music, large rumbling trucks, mystery meat, conversations about popularity, and good clean fun. I'd indeed gone to the dark side and my fellow counselors took some pride in reminding me of this at every turn. They took to calling me "Dirty Hippie." Rumors quickly spread that I was dealing drugs within the camp.

At this point I had never even bought weed, but I certainly looked the part. My only friend at the camp had bought marijuana, which we shared. His car had inexplicably burned down and melted and exploded, not sure in which order. In any case, he asked to store his weed in my car, and I stupidly agreed. Given the rumors swirling about my activities as a "drug dealer," I should have known that the heads of camp had their targets set straight on my gross stringy blonde mop-head.

The downfall came quite quickly. Somehow, the kids in my cabin heard about "the donkey show," from some other folks at camp and asked me for an explanation. In the gentlest and vaguest of terms, I described "the donkey show" to my youngsters. The next day, I had several counselors ask me, "Did you tell your kids about a woman who has sex with donkeys?" Not only was I a drug dealer now, but also a pervert intent on corrupting young minds.

Later that day, an announcement came over the loudspeaker. "Missster Billll Baird, Misssttter Billll Baaaird. Please report to the front office."

Once there, they informed me I had 15 minutes to leave the camp before the police were called. I guess they don't take too kindly to drug-dealing perverts.

So I headed back home with my tail between my legs. At least I hadn't been forced to wash my hair during my brief stint as camp counselor (they had asked repeatedly).

There wasn't really much of a bright side to this tragedy, though. I arrived back home, got in an argument with my dad, and moved out. Oh well, no more home. I went to stay with a friend at his grandma's while coming up with a plan to make a little money.

It was a rough few days, and in my desperation, I cut my hair and even washed it. Maybe I just wanted to say that I had been to "Chong's Uni-sex Hair Salon" on Austin Highway. I did get my haircut there and the Bee-Gee's "Night Fever" was playing through a boombox perched on top of a coke machine. The soundtrack to my only haircut while 18 years of age. Seems the barbers at "Chong's" are also chiropractors; after my cut, the reticent barber jerked my neck sideways and I could hear joints crack in a hundred different places. Sounded sort of like Rice Crispies, maybe a little louder.

This haircut helped my job prospects immensely. Not because it made me more employable, really, but because while inside "Chong's Unisex Hair Salon" I found one of those small employment newspapers, this one called the "Greensheet."

The "Greensheet" typically would be your best bet for finding a place to unintentionally donate a kidney (you know, get drugged, wake in a bathtub of ice, etc), or to find all the latest job listings for area McDonald's. I'd only ever perused it in a laughing manner, but I'd just gotten fired and they probably weren't gonna give me a good reference. I needed a job that required no skills, no references, no nothing except the willingness to prostrate oneself. I'd hit rock bottom, I guess.

In the "Greensheet" I found an employer that advertised $15 hourly, full benefits, no skills needed. "Just a friendly voice," it said.

Turns out the employer was West Telemarketing, the 2nd largest employer in San Antonio behind the military. I drove out to their headquarters, address scrawled on small piece of paper. I needn't have written down the address. The building complex was at least as large as Disney Land.
----------
to be continued tomorrow.

swimming on new year's day

2009-08-26T09:17:00.000-07:00

TWANG, by George Strait

2009-08-25T06:29:00.000-07:00

Let us pause for a moment in awe. George Strait has a new album out called "Twang."

That sounds to me like the worst album title I've ever heard. Just repeat the word, let it roll around in your mouth. Twang.

In honor of this chill-inducing album title, let us revisit the George Strait video I made:

He still has not responded to the mail I've sent him. Oh George, you know we're meant to be together. Don't pretend that restraining order is going to keep us apart.

TWANG

Our Mother the Mountain

2009-08-21T08:33:00.001-07:00

Seeing as I'm such a lover of Townes Van Zandt, I can't believe it took me this long to hear "Our Mother the Mountain." Good thing really, cuz it's like the best Christmas gift ever. Riches of imagery and beauty and me getting the chills. So good.

I just bought the 180 gram vinyl re-issue from Fat Possum. It sounds very good.

"Kathleen" (with some weird video accompaniment).

===================
"she came and she touched me" ( my favorite ) -- live at the old quarter version (i like the album version better but can't find it).

====================
"Our Mother the Mountain" -- Sinister.

today's running journal entry

2009-08-16T12:01:00.001-07:00

I normally keep my running journals strictly on my running blog, Cold Cold Feet. It is my ongoing documentation of my training for a marathon on November 15th.

But I liked today's entry, and am reprinting it here that others might read it.
================================================

Today ended a several day drought during which I conjured every possible excuse to avoid lacing up my running shoes and dipping my toes back into that reservoir of pain I call my running schedule. Oh, I had handfuls of excuses and plenty to justify my absence from the trail, but most of it apocryphal or delusional. The honest truth is that I could've easily pushed through the pain and sweat out the hangover, but I just didn't.

Well, that came to an end today. I felt the beer and whiskey of the previous several days coming back to haunt me. But I fought through it and bounced back all the stronger. Had to start the day with a triple-espresso, though. I find that coffee gives courage. I knew I would be in pain, but somehow that bitter black caffeinated bit of joy made me buck up and stiffened my spine. I wonder if soldiers in battle drink espresso before jumping out of the trenches.

Which reminds me of something. I recall only a few years ago never even having run a full mile without stopping. My attitude then seemed fairly simple; why in the hell would I ever want to run? I'll run if somebody's chasing after me.

But later I learned the joy of endorphins. Ah yes, the sweet sweet biochemistry of our human form. We put ourselves through pain that our bodies might tap into their innate pain-relief reservoirs. You feel the sweet numb rush, the release of all stress and worry and desire. You push through the pain that inevitably wells up, and the body has its mechanisms to push back.

But I return to the soldier in his trench. His is an involuntary release and a constant one. Whatever pain relief might be won through a hard run between trenches is inevitably counteracted by the stress chemicals flooding the brain due to constant fear of death and bombardment. I have no such worries, thankfully. I wonder if such chemicals might be useful in achieving heretofore unknown speeds and stride. I did once run by a vicious dog, and he growled, and my pace did pick up a bit. No pun intended. But the dog was not explosive, nor holding a grenade or improvised explosive device, or even a rough bludgeoning tool. He did have knives though, the kind we find attached to the ends of a dog's incisors. I wonder if there might be a correlation between the size of a dog's teeth, and the increase in speed by a passing-by runner. I imagine there is a very direct relationship.

Today while running I did see some curious life forms along the trail, but certainly nothing threatening. Near the Congress avenue bridge, the trails juts a bit south and runs along Riverside, all because a few apartment complexes and businesses bought the lakeside land along a quite scenic bluff. One of these businesses happens to be Joe's Crab Shack.

Joe's Crab Shack always seemed to me like the waiting area for a roller coaster at a theme park. You know, the fake wood, the scrawled handwritten signs, the weathered siding on the building, all carefully placed just so, providing the feel of an old "crab shack," presumably owned by a guy named Joe. It is a soulless affair and fully worth ignoring. Today, though, I ran by and saw a flock of about 20 or so ducks marching across the parking lot, plodding their way towards the lake from a nearby creek. And the juxtaposition struck me and filled me with joy. It was an incongruity that resonated with the string of my heart and reminded me that, in nature, shit lives alongside beauty, and it's all fleeting anyway. And that's the dance of life. Imagine --> possibly the most soulless place in Austin - the oil-stained stretch of cracked concrete fronting a fabricated, soul-less corporate sham of a restaurant. And an image of simple beauty dances across this barren landscape.

Perhaps life is like this. The beauty and the shit are inseparable, and to receive life's glory, we have to sort through its refuse.

Just make sure to wash your hands.

old goriot / cold cold feet

2009-08-13T14:02:00.000-07:00

This is an amazing book. Highly recommended.

I started a blog documenting my training for a marathon. It's crude and humorous.
czech it here --->
Cold Cold Feet

the clock ticks, albeit rather slowly

2009-07-29T09:50:00.000-07:00

Just finished a new album.

Now only 94 more to go.

Let it be known. Before I pass from this earth I will record 100 albums.

The countdown begins.

silver tongued fork, or random thoughts as they occur

2009-07-24T20:59:00.000-07:00

Currently holed up in a hotel room in Jacksonville, way off in east Texas. The drive out here revealed east Texas has some sort of intense dislike of our president Obama. Many angry men yelling on the radio and even a few ladies voicing their displeasure in soft cadences. On the drive into town I saw a hair salon called "Texas Hair-itage."

Here is a photo from the badlands, taken by John this summer:

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I've been holed up for quite some time at my new studio, called Baby Blue, and been mixing tracks for upcoming releases.

The first release is a straight up drone record, with some parts arranged for strings and brass. It's music that doesn't much have a point, and isn't really looking for one. The music seems to be doing o.k. right where it sits, and not even I can convince it to become something more. But I think it does fairly well within its own limitations.

The next album is shaping to be somewhat folky, with a heavy dose of absurdity, nihilism, and some hope sprinkled on top. I think on previous Sunset releases it was perhaps pushed back a bit, but here it will be less produced, more noticeable. The songs explore different places, smaller places, sadder places, and could even feel like something of a hangover from the creative explosion of 2008. Not the case, though. It's more like a rebirth of sorts, a pressing of the "RESET" button, a chance to sever old ties and close old chapters, burn old books, digest the thing I've been chewing on for years. I return to folk music before heading off into even farther out directions. It's like a reminder of sorts, a returning to base, a firming up of the foundation.

A little farther along, more albums percolate, growing from roots set forth in our live shows. Piano based, weird chord changes, recurring imagery. I hope it all comes together as well I imagine.

----------------

Josh Duke lives in the studio and we split rent and bills. Josh is helping my friend Red make his next album at the space. Josh has also set up a darkroom and has developed some excellent photos. During a marathon recording session, Josh provided invaluable advice while I recorded a dub reggae version of Cindy Lauper's "Time After Time." Look for that to be released.... never. Actually, o.k., if you mail me a SASE to here:

Bill Baird
2906 Westhill, #A
Austin, TX
78704

then I will send you a special tape album filled with cool random junk on it, like my dub version of "Time After Time." It's actually not really dub music. I like aiming for music that I can't possibly actually make, and seeing how far off the mark I go. The "lost in translation" aspect is what really appeals to me. There's no way in hell I could make Jamaican music. But the failure is itself kind of interesting. It fails in the traditional sense, but comes through as personal and unique and successful in its complete wrongness.

News Update

2009-07-22T09:33:00.000-07:00

So we returned from a triumphant tour and have returned to the grind of our normal lives. I (Bill) have been prepping a couple of new albums for release. Bought a 1/4" 2track tape machine for mixing and I really like how it sounds. So putting the final touches on a number of songs. Look for a new release in the fall of 2009.

We have a few shows coming up, playing at The Parish on August 14th with Balmoreah and Ume, a studio party at Baby Blue on July 31st, September 4th at Emo's with Mothfight, and probably some more surprises. Working on a quiet show with Bosque Brown, Jesse Woods and Dana Falconberry.

Been sharing the Baby Blue studio with Josh Duke, who has been "producing" / recording the new album by Red Hunter, a.k.a. Peter and the Wolf. Their album is going to be fantastic. Josh is also a great photographer and has set up a darkroom in the studio. He made prints of some tour photos and he also did a blow-up for our next album cover.

The next release will be on cassette - "Decay," our long lost drone album, mastered by the esteemed James Plotkin.. Our friend Tommy scored us a free tape duplicator from the UT A/V library. It's beautiful. So look for that soon. There will only be around 20 copies made, perhaps with a digital release as well, who knows.

For more info, please check our myspace page. Yes, I know, myspace is soooo over, and everyone and their mom is now doing facebook. Now we look on Myspace as "the good old days." Yikes.

Lou's Views (w t f)

2009-07-02T10:16:00.000-07:00

Lou Reed was once my idol.

He recently started a glasses company called "Lou's Views."

The glass part apparently flips up. The press release describes them as "ironic and sophisticated."

Oh Lou, where hast thou gone?

my chickens

2009-06-27T11:38:00.000-07:00

I have three chickens. Had to sell Frida though because she turned out to be a rooster and that is illegal in my neighborhood.

They do not produce eggs yet but hopefully soon I will be eating some fresh omelettes. I will make you one if you ask nicely. Don't worry if a feather accidentally makes its way into your delicious omelette. The feather only indicates freshness.

sexual healing

2009-04-21T10:42:00.000-07:00

I sat down in the computer lab at work, and shortly thereafter the school's head maintenence man sat down next to me. Letting out a deep sigh, he kicked his feet up on the computer table (with shoes still on, and a little muddy), stretched his hands back and cradled his head, and put on a set of headphones. Within a few seconds, I could hear Marvin Gaye's "Sexual Healing" being cranked. And by cranked, I mean very very loud. Either the man already has hearing loss, or he is well on his way.

He hummed along, trying to sing, but in a way that came out more as mumbling. The only lyrics he really knew,

"More than a feeling, it's Sexual Healing,"

came out loud and clear. So clear, in fact, that the librarian poked her head inthe door. Perhaps she's a bit shy, though, because she didn't question his behavior. I always thought loud singing about intercourse and muddy shoes on tables were against library rules. Maybe the official library rules don't deal with this specific a situation, but I imagine this must've been in violation of at least a rule or two.

quick India thoughts

2009-03-24T06:38:00.000-07:00

I was just standing above a sewage dump, watching a man burn plastic bags for no apparent reason.

Other things I have seen:

a cow eating a shoe, pig eating cow shit, cows everywhere, cows in the middle of the freeway, dogs with two legs, camels pulling tractors, tractors pulling trees, naked people by the roadside, people shitting by the roadside, a truck frame (no panels of any kind) with engine attached and a man suspended by rope, driving the truck; flaming piles of garbage in the middle of the road, insane washes of color and beauty, deformed people of every type, lepers begging for money, piles of rubble with tents set up all around, degraded landscapes, tshirt designs in very bad taste, massive statues to the Hindu elephant god and monkey god and vishnu the destroyer (his statue was 5 or so stories tall, next to the freeway, bright blue, holding a sword and a snake).

I really love India, far more than any other place I've ever been. It's the insane wash of humanity, the crosscut of 4,000 years of culture, that floors me -- the temples, the buildings, the food (which, despite nagging stomach twitches and pains, blows away any Indian food ever previously sampled), the rich odors (both good and bad), the vibrant colors, and the massive piles of garbage everywhere.

gone to India

2009-03-19T13:19:00.000-07:00

I am attending a friend's wedding and visiting several ashrams in the Uttar Pradesh region. I will attempt to write updates on here if I get the chance.

The trip promises great things.

Moving into the new studio, part 1

2009-03-10T06:13:00.000-07:00

A crazy crackhead walked into Baby Blue and told me for twenty minutes about a prostitute who stole 400 of his dollars by shoving it "up there." So he told me about his plans to cut her apart with a box cutter, put her in a garbage bag, and bleach the carpet of the hotel room so nobody would ever know. After telling me this, the man asked me for a beer or food. I said no beer, but you can have an apple. Man, fuck that, he said. Buy me some chips. I need nutrition. At least chips got potato in it.

I still said no, so he told me about a murderer who is wandering the neighborhood who looks "exactly like me." I guess he meant that he was the murderer? Then he pulled up his shirt and showed me his murder weapon, a large screwdriver. Just drive that shit in somebody's skull, he said. They gone, they dead.

He lamented the fact that the free clinic was closed. I was supposed to see my brain doctor, he said. I ain't right in the head. I feelin weird, man. Fuck. I a crazy man, I ain't right. Can I have a beer? Come on man, I give you fifty cents for a beer. I need me a goddamn beer. One fucking beer, man. I starting to get angry. We getting off on the wrong foot. When I get mad, I start hurting people. But I can get you some quarters for a beer, man.

He fished 2 damp quarters from his jeans pocket. I gave him the beer but didn't take the money. His scare tactics worked, I guess.

I later saw him walking through the yard holding half an apple pie. I'm trying to eat right and get healthy, he said. Well dude, I said, you're gonna wann stop eating half an apple pie for lunch then, probably. Doesn't seem too healthy.

He told me he's an angel and sprinkles good luck on people. I an angel, man, he said. I used to go by that place, the Mohawk. You know that music place, The Mohawk? I sprinkled the good luck on that place like fucking fairy dust, man. Now they pretend like the don't even know me.

He paused.

God comes in all forms, man. He takes all forms. I could be God, you know? What if God be asking you for some-teeng?

I had always assumed that if I met God, he wouldn't be asking me for a beer, but who knows?

two sides of funky

2009-03-03T02:54:00.000-08:00

Not exactly a news flash, but I just spent the morning having my mind blown by Stevie Wonder. Man. Thing is, he records all the instruments on his seminal albums -- drums, keys, guitar, bass, everything. Some footage from back in the day:

I like the way he plays the clavinet.

And now, to even out this overdose of funkiness,

I really like Colin Blunstone's slow motion dancing and his almost disdainful demeanor.

Charlie Rose, by Samuel Beckett

2009-03-01T18:32:00.001-08:00

Half Marathon

2009-02-27T13:22:00.000-08:00

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potrero chico

2009-01-09T17:03:00.000-08:00

I just went rock climbing here, near Monterrey, Mexico. I was really high above the ground. It was a "multi-pitch" climb, which means you go to the end of your rope, then set up another anchor system while clipped into the side of the cliff. I was climbing with my brother-in-law-in-law, Jesse McGahey, who is the climbing ranger at Yosemite. And Maia, a friend from Yosemite.

$1 IOU towards McDonald's purchase, written on the back of a Taco Bell receipt, found inside Dan Quayle's autobiography.

2008-12-30T16:05:00.000-08:00

I was in Goodwill the other day, looking through their used books.

I found the autobiography of Dan Quayle (see cover below):

================
While flipping through the photos in the middle of Dan's childhood, I found this:

==============

It's an IOU for $1 to make a purchase at McDonald's, and it's written on the back of a Taco Bell receipt.

In sum, a $1 IOU towards McDonald's purchase, written on the back of a Taco Bell receipt, found inside Dan Quayle's autobiography.

2008, great ... 2009, fine

2008-12-28T18:59:00.000-08:00

2008, great:

-- Found gainful employment at the Texas School for the Blind and Visually Impaired, an amazing school full of great teachers and inspiring kids.

-- Toured in my veggie oil car with Willis and Will in a glorious, disastrous tour up and down the West coast... played on KEXP in Seattle, smoked the medicine in Humboldt, played in Chris' backyard, tested the limits of my endurance and sanity.

-- Put out 2 albums and 2 tapes with SUNSET to some alright reviews and some good play on college radio; put out a covers album / book containing my poetry and photography... under my own name... on Tired Trails.

-- Made video for every song on "Bright Blue Dream," initiating my own version of the "video album," to be hopefully expanded in the future.

-- Re-started the S.W.A.K. zine, putting out #2 : "The Exquisite Corpse Issue."

-- Started an excellent compost pile and laid out plans for a chicken coop. Fresh eggs from the farmer's market every Saturday morning will be hard to beat, but I'll try.

-- Brewed my own successful batch of Kombucha tea. No more getting ripped off by G.T.

-- Visited Mike in Germany, went to Verdun (site of the deadliest single battle in recorded human history), the Hermann Hesse museum / home in Calw... also Strasbourg and Swabia.

-- Went to New Orleans for 3 days and went out to the barrier islands and Lake Pontchatrain and finally grasped what a fucked situation New Orleans is in...

-- Moved out of Big Orange, closing the chapter on a turbulent, creative, joyous, and painful period of my life.

-- Toured the East Coast with SUNSET: hung with Elizabeth in Brooklyn, played a Quaker school in North Carolina, stayed on the beach at Cape Cod for 2 glorious days.

-- Lots of awesome local shows, especially with the Weird Weeds at the Cactus, playing the skate video opening at the Broken Neck, and the stripped down set at Progress Coffee with Brazos.

-- All-night recording sessions at Wire Recorders... elation and group dynamics... more recording at Premium and some at Big Orange too, before I moved out. Some really amazing productive days with my bestest friends.

-- Camped 10 days with John in Mexico, writing nearly 60 pages on my typewriter, most of which is crap and unusable... my hesitant first step towards the book I've always carried inside.

-- Read and/or re-read many great books, including amazing works by Aldo Leopold, Howard Zinn, Jack London, Andre Gide, George Orwell, Kurt Vonnegut, John Cage, Walt Whitman, Arthur Rimbaud, Knut Hamsun, Henry David Thoreau, and Jim Woodring. Amazing books hit me hard this year.

-- Scored music for two short films and contributed songs to 2 other films.

===============
===============
===============

2009, fine:

-- More working with the awesome kids at the School for the Blind.

-- Lots more amazing books to read... I have them piled up. Looking forward to some Balzac... that's next on my list.

-- Recording my Dad's song that's a tribute to the victims of Hurricane Katrina and making a video of the footage I shot when we visited.

-- 34 minute long drone album... finally finishing the piece initially commissioned for Sam Sanford's "Long Distance Relationship" art show.

-- SUNSET's 1st 7" record and lots more rock shows, and hopefully getting back to the craziness and theatricality and quiet lush rocking-ness. If the 7" does well, maybe another.

-- East Coast tour with Oh Be Joyful.

-- Running the half-marathon on February 15th.

-- More paintings and collages and photography.

-- Another album under my own name, and hopefully some solo shows doing folk songs and stranger stuff and maybe some drone shows too.

-- Finishing the pile of SUNSET songs now staring me in the face and finding a label to put them out.

-- Ballroom dancing lessons. Yes, for real, I'm doing this.

-- Travelling to India and visiting some ashrams in the foothills. Maybe some volunteer work if I can line it up.

-- Full U.S. tour in the veggie oil wagon, with the full band !

-- More poetry to fill out the first volume of self-published poetry to come out 2009 or 2010 or maybe never.

-- S.W.A.K. #3

-- Another edition of "Candle-lit Television Eyes," my ongoing DVD-r series.

-- Sort through these 30 or so un-transferred mini-DV tapes. Something good might be in there.

-- More procrastinating thoughts on further education. Who needs school anyhow?

Here are some of my favorite photos of the year:

Hope your year was as fantastic as mine. See you next time.

Cirque de Soleil; Dave Bryant

2008-12-19T21:27:00.000-08:00

Cirque de Soleil recently contacted me, searching for musicians to perform in their newest musical based on the life and music of Elvis Presley. This is my audition tape:

I am fairly certain I won't be getting in.

I also made a video for Dave Bryant (on a song I produced and recorded):

Not sure if he'll like it or not. Hi Dave!

SWAK is back. Some updates.

2008-12-15T09:14:00.000-08:00

I took a long break for no real reason. Just wanted to disappear for awhile. But I've got lots of good things coming up, so I wanted to start this blog back up and share everything that's going on.

============================

First off, I wrote and recorded a song called "Christmas in Jail" for an Irish record label's Christmas album called "An Indiecater Christmas."

Purchasing info here.

===========================

Secondly, I have just released a new album through NYC's Tired Trails. It's an album of cover songs, stitched together in a beautiful book printed on recycled paper with banana leaf covers. It contains extensive track notes, black and white photography, and 2 poems. You can order them by emailing Jess, here : tiredtrails@gmail.com. They cost $12.50, postage paid with the U.S. Overseas I suppose you will have to pay an extra few bucks.

Here is my cover of Neil Young's "Expecting to Fly":
Expecting to Fly (Neil Young cover)

Full Tracklisting:

The Dirt (Mark David Ashworth)
Sea Song (Robert Wyatt)
Last Fall (Jared Van Fleet)
Shady Grove (Traditional)
The Ballad of Sammy Mudd (Sam Sanford)
I'll Be Here In the Morning (Townes Van Zandt)
Rake and Rambling Boy (Traditional)
Hot Burrito 2 Digit (Flying Burrito Brothers)
Expecting to Fly (Neil Young)
Walking After Midnight (Searching for Me) [Alan Block and Don Hecht c/o Patsy Cline]
Be Not So Fearful (Bill Fay)
Diamond Deserts (Bill Baird)
This Land Is Your Land (Woody Guthrie)

Here are some photos of the beautiful new books.

================================

Lastly, Sunset is putting out a 45 rpm 7" record -- "Loveshines II" // "Not a Perfect Person (Looks Like I Fucked Up Again)" ! It looks awesome and sounds pretty good too. Something about vinyl makes me want to take a big bite out of it. Tactile joy.

==========================
"Loveshines II" was recorded live as a band, then we did a full band live overdub. So it's essentially 2 stacked live performances. This was part of a really great all-night session at Wire Recorders.

"Looks Like I Fucked Up Again" was written and recorded at 5am, later that night.

The record is set to be released February 9th ! And it only costs $4 !

Pre - order here:

North American orders:

International orders:

MARTIN EDEN

2008-10-01T21:43:00.000-07:00

This is a good book.

CANADA IS AWESOME, PART II ///// PETER AND THE WOLF

2008-09-11T07:50:00.000-07:00

I've traveled to Canada numerous times, and for numerous reasons. I've found the country expansive, the people warm, and the trees large. My last time up there, I was halfway through a grueling 6 week Sound Team tour. For about 4 straight weeks, I listened to nothing but the album "Lightness," an album by my friend Red, aka Peter and the Wolf. It was gentle and touching and affected me the way music should. I posted a track here that's short, sweet, and completely appropriate to this discussion.
Peter and the Wolf - Canada (off the album Lightness).

He has recorded several albums since "Lightness," although Lightness has gotten the most press.

About a year ago, I got together for an all-night session at Big Orange with Red and Josh Duke (Red's frequent collaborator and the dude who recorded "Lightness"). We recorded three complete songs; I played on two of them.

During this session, I was floored by Red's vocal range and skill at harmonies. I mean, this motherfucker would lay down like 10 tracks of perfect harmony, then come up with another idea and be like, "No, ditch that." And he would re-do the entire thing, without a mistake. Just knocking it out, over and over again, first takes every time. His ability and creativity that night inspired me.

The songs we recorded ended up on his latest disc, "The Ivori Palms."

Here's one of the tracks we made:

Better Days

That's Red on drums and piano, me on bass, and Josh on guitar. Tracked live, except for piano and some vocal overdubs. This track has such a great feel to it. You can tell we were pushing each other and having a lot of fun.

Red's an inspiring guy to record with. He follows the muse.

I encourage any and all folks to head over to Itunes and buy his albums. You will not regret the purchase.

And Red, if you want me to take down the mp3s, please send a shout. Just trying to draw attention to your sweet tunes.

ALGONQUIN PROVINCIAL PARK, ONTARIO

2008-09-04T21:08:00.000-07:00

ZILKER PARK TRAIN RIDE, CONDUCTOR'S VIEW

2008-09-03T20:33:00.000-07:00

I tried embedding it in high quality, but doesn't look like it worked. You can see the original here; make sure you choose the "high quality" option.

George Orwell, Part 2

2008-09-02T15:50:00.000-07:00

This is an incredible book. Very highly recommended.

"CHAIN OF FOOLS;" MC ROVE

2008-08-27T20:39:00.000-07:00

Did anybody else notice the band playing "Chain of Fools" either before or after Bill Clinton's speech at the Democratic National Convention? Seriously. Seemed inappropriate, as most other songs were really uplifting and hinted at the democrats' eventual victory.

Do you think the band was secretly a bunch of republicans? That nutty Karl Rove. What a prankster. I bet he's behind this. We all know he's a very talented musician. Check this out:

I think I'd be laughing if my mouth wasn't filled with vomit.

"TWILIGHT AND GHOST STORIES" PHOTOS AND WRITE-UPS

2008-08-21T12:32:00.000-07:00

photo courtesy of nariposa.

I recently played with an ensemble of improv musicians, assembled to realize Chris Schlarb's album, "Twilight and Ghost Stories." We rehearsed and then played a show at Church of the Friendly Ghost.

I was able to collaborate in my humble way and added a different dimension to the largely insrumental performance. These were some of the best musicians I've ever played with... what a joy. Some very very talented people on that stage.

You can read Tiny Mix Tapes review of the show here. They describe my contribution as "wispy." I think that might be referring to my hair, though.

Chris Schlarb's own write-up of the show is here.

George Orwell

2008-08-01T18:08:00.000-07:00

Entries from George Orwell's personal journal will be posted in blog form here. I heard some excerpts, and this should be well worth checking out on a daily basis. Blog posts start August 9th.

PEEL VIDEO

2008-07-31T08:44:00.001-07:00

This is a video I made for the band Peel. The song is called "Moxie Blues."

Josh Permenter = wyld stallion.

Somehow during the filming of this video, I managed to break Praveen's windshield with a squeegee. That was a wild night. Sorry bout that, Praveen. And thanks for helping me film.

S.W.A.K. #2, print edition

2008-07-25T12:41:00.000-07:00

At long last, SWAK #2 has arrived. "The Exquisite Corpse" issue. Filled with lots of fantastic illustrations and exquisite corpse stories by Michael Baird, Michael Bain, John Kolar, Sam Miller, Willis McClung, Will Patterson and yours truly. Also photos from Sound Team's last tour, which was indeed exquisite and the band was shortly to be a corpse, so I guess it fits with the theme.

If you would like a copy, please paypal $4 ($2 plus $2 shipping) to: mortonbairdiii@yahoo.com

If you catch one of {{{SUNSET}}}'s shows, they will be on sale for only $2.

MANIFESTOS: Öyvind Fahlström, "Take Care of the World"

2008-07-21T19:18:00.000-07:00

When I stopped in NYC for 5 days on Sunset's May tour, I hung some quality time with my cousin Liz, a talented furniture designer, and her boyfriend, Joel Stohr, an amazing artist himself and an instructor at the Parsons School of Design. Liz and I strolled Manhattan, managing to hit an open mike night ( I played first ), the New Museum, and some NYC bar where Lincoln apprarently drank... got sawdust on the floor and old photos on the wall and the strongest mustard I've ever tried, but seems to be mostly frat boyz in there these days. At the New Museum, I picked up a bright-yellow pamphlet originally printed in 1966 by the preeminent artists of the Fluxus movement. Contained within, I found a moving manifesto by Öyvind Fahlström; I've scanned it here. The spirit is undeniable, I think.
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LETTER FROM PLUCKER'S OWNER, DAVE PAUL

2008-07-21T18:49:00.000-07:00

Bill Moyers: "The Secret Government"

2008-07-20T22:38:00.000-07:00

A very illuminating segment about CIA overthrow of foreign governments. Very innaresting... Hard to believe it aired on PBS. good job, Bill Moyers.

VIDEO: CHRIS AND ME IN JOSHUA TREE

2008-07-13T14:35:00.001-07:00

Last fall, I made a trip out to Cali for the premiere of "Near," a short by the super-awesome and talented Tom Gulager. I'd done the soundtrack work for the project. The short screened at AFI, this super-cool old building in Hollywood.

I headed out to Cali a few days early... Chris Colthart picked me up from the airport and we drove straight out to Joshua Tree for some primitive camping and other fun-ness. I made a short video of that trip. Hi Chris.

I am gonna play music at a pool party with Chris on August 9th in LA. Email for details, or just wait... I will post them when I get them.

BILL MOYERS

2008-07-12T07:44:00.000-07:00

Bill Moyers = an American hero. Born in East Texas, wrote for the Daily Texan at UT Austin, took on a summer internship that culminated in his post as LBJ's press secretary; he afterwards became a famous and controversial journalist who specialized in long-form interviews, investigative reporting, and thoughtful analysis (a direct descendent of Edward R. Murrow, a character recently depicted in "Good Night and Good Luck").

His willingness to hold account to those in power caused problems for him... he was accused of a "liberal bias." He was eventually forced out of his position at PBS by Kenneth Tomlinson, an old friend of Karl Rove who was later convicted of misusing funds and running his horse-racing business from his PBS office.
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Excerpts from Bill Moyers' Wiki entry.

On the media and class warfare
In a 2003 interview with BuzzFlash.com, Moyers said, "The corporate right and the political right declared class warfare on working people a quarter of a century ago and they've won." He noted that "The rich are getting richer, which arguably wouldn't matter if the rising tide lifted all boats." Instead, however, "The inequality gap is the widest it's been since 1929; the middle class is besieged and the working poor are barely keeping their heads above water." He added that as "the corporate and governing elites are helping themselves to the spoils of victory," access to political power has become "who gets what and who pays for it."

Meanwhile, the public has failed to react because it is, in his words, "distracted by the media circus and news has been neutered or politicized for partisan purposes." In support of this he referred to "the paradox of Rush Limbaugh, ensconced in a Palm Beach mansion massaging the resentments across the country of white-knuckled wage earners, who are barely making ends meet in no small part because of the corporate and ideological forces for whom Rush has been a hero... As Eric Alterman reports in his recent book — a book that I'm proud to have helped make happen — part of the red meat strategy is to attack mainstream media relentlessly, knowing that if the press is effectively intimidated, either by the accusation of liberal bias or by a reporter's own mistaken belief in the charge's validity, the institutions that conservatives revere — corporate America, the military, organized religion, and their own ideological bastions of influence — will be able to escape scrutiny and increase their influence over American public life with relatively no challenge."

On media bias
When he retired in December 2004, the AP News Service quoted Moyers, "I'm going out telling the story that I think is the biggest story of our time: how the right-wing media has become a partisan propaganda arm of the Republican National Committee. We have an ideological press that's interested in the election of Republicans, and a mainstream press that's interested in the bottom line. Moyers said: Therefore, we don't have a vigilant, independent press whose interest is the American people."

On Karl Rove and U.S. politics
During his speech at the "Take Back America" Conference, Moyers defined what he considered to be Karl Rove's influence on George W. Bush's administration. Moyers asserted that, from his reading of Rove, the mid to late 1800s were to Rove a "cherished period of American history." He further states, "From his own public comments and my reading of the record, it is apparent that Karl Rove has modeled the Bush presidency on that of William McKinley...and modeled himself on Mark Hanna, the man who virtually manufactured McKinley."

He stipulated that Hanna's primary "passion" was attending to corporate and imperial power.

Furthermore, Moyers indicates that Hanna gathered support for McKinley's presidential campaign from "the corporate interests of the day" and was responsible for Ohio and Washington coming under the rule of "bankers, railroads and public utility corporations." He submitted that political opponents of this transfer of power were "smeared as disturbers of the peace, socialists, anarchists, or worse."

Lastly, he refers to what historian Clinton Rossiter called the period of "the great train robbery of American intellectual history," when "conservatives--or better, pro-corporate apologists" began using terms such as "progress", "opportunity", and "individualism" in order to make "the plunder of America sound like divine right." He added that Charles Darwin's theory of evolution was also used by conservative politicians, judges, and publicists to justify the idea of a "natural order of things" as well as "the notion that progress resulted from the elimination of the weak and the 'survival of the fittest.'"

He concludes, "This 'degenerate and unlovely age', as one historian calls it, exists in the mind of Karl Rove, the reputed brain of George W. Bush, as the seminal age of inspiration for the politics and governance of America today."

During coverage of the 2004 presidential election, Moyers stated, "I think that if Kerry were to win this in a tight race, I think that there would be an effort to mount a coup, quite frankly. I mean that the right wing is not going to accept it."

LEAVES OF GRASS

2008-06-29T20:17:00.000-07:00

In the original printing, he did not include his name, only a daguerrotype.

He refined and reworked it; he published 9 versions during his lifetime, each version a slight variation on the previous. The first edition contained 12 poems; the final or "deathbed" version contained almost 400.

The tireless revision and pursuit of one work to embody all his poetic effort... this inspires me.

Wikipedia entry

edwards aquifer

2008-06-27T13:51:00.000-07:00

this is going to be a big big issue, very soon.

"
Of course, underlying the Bexar Co. development
skirmishes is the area's unique aquifer system.
Overlain by karst limestone pocked through like Swiss
cheese and peppered with caves, the water that drains
down from creeks, across dirty parking lots, or out of
wastewater discharge pipes receives very little
natural filtering before it enters the Edwards. From
there, it can move through San Antonio's drinking
reservoir at a rate of thousands of feet per day.
Increasingly, however, San Antonio's sprawling growth
has blanketed the Edwards' recharge zone, threatening
the historic purity of the aquifer water that has
allowed the San Antonio Water System and BexarMet to
pump, chlorinate, and deliver water to area homes and
businesses without the costly central water-treatment
plants found in most other cities. Groups such as the
Greater Edwards Aquifer Alliance have long warned that
tighter controls are needed to prevent the
contamination of the Edwards.

Peace references New York City's decision in 2007 to
spend $300 million on land acquisition to protect its
watershed – a move expected to negate the need for a
treatment plant costing up to $10 billion (and
eventually passed along to customers in rate hikes).
Like San Antonio, New York City is one of only a
handful of cities that has not had to filter its water
because of the pristine job that natural systems
perform. But New York City planners had to remove land
from potential development to do it – not a popular
proposition among the political leadership in San
Antonio. "

full article here

myspace head explosion

2008-06-27T00:07:00.001-07:00

Response from Plucker's ownwer

2008-06-23T10:39:00.000-07:00

The owner of Plucker's emailed me back about my negative experience. This is impressive, I think. Quick, decisive action is often the mark of a good businessman.

"

Hi, my name is Dave Paul and I am the owner of Pluckers. I read your blog and wanted to contact you so I could send you a gift card for a free meal on us. It sounds like your experience at our store was not what it should have been. Please email me at dpaul@pluckers.net with a good mailing address I can send the gift card to.

Thanks,

Dave Paul
Founder
Pluckers

"

swimming with a t.v.

2008-06-23T09:03:00.000-07:00

my job.

2008-06-22T10:46:00.000-07:00

right now i am working at the texas school for the blind and visually impaired as a resident instructor for the summer school session.

yesterday i took the kids on the bus to plucker's in west campus. they ordered "boneless chicken wings," which seemed strange to me.

i ordered waffle fries and had to send them back. they were cold and soggy.

pluckers had 16 television sets, many set to the same channel.

one of my kids, joseph, has shown incredible ability in guitar and has pretty much perfect pitch. yesterday he played "blue moon" about, oh, 25 times. i taught him some "blue notes" he can use to make it a bit more "bluesy."

the day before, we went to highland mall and i walked with joseph.
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my first day on the job, a little while back, i changed a grown man's diapers, bathed him, and wiped his rear. after that, everything is pretty much a piece of cake. especially trips to pluckers

google image search: "links"

2008-06-20T20:57:00.001-07:00

no really, i'm not kidding

2008-06-17T06:51:00.001-07:00

this is amazing. listen in case you missed it the first time.

springwater!

buffalo springfield, a few years later: stephen stills vs. neil young, circa 1991

2008-06-16T04:50:00.000-07:00

oh man. this is wrong in so many ways. it kind of makes me sad for stephen stills. the whole "crowd participation" bit doesn't come off well.
-------------

neil young comes off better, i think. just consider their on-stage accoutrements: cheesy rugs and some fake plants (stills) vs. 2-story fender bassman amps (young) ?

some priceless crowd shots too, on both the clips.

the stephen stills clip kind of makes me never want to be filmed again doing anything, ever ever ever.

comment on the music industry

2008-06-12T20:58:00.001-07:00

we went through such hell trying to get the record company to lower the price of our records... still $18.99 in most places. and now one cent on ebay. beyond surreal.

i wonder how all these big companies will shake down over the next few years.

awesome

2008-06-11T21:34:00.000-07:00

this song and video blow my mind.

NASA PHOTO COLLAGE OF THE MILKY WAY

2008-06-05T12:01:00.001-07:00

ABOUT THIS PHOTO COLLAGE:

The Spitzer Space Telescope's encompasing infrared view of the plane of our Milky Way Galaxy is hard to appreciate in just one picture. In fact, more than 800,000 frames of data from Spitzer's cameras have now been pieced together in an enormous mosaic of the galactic plane - the most detailed infrared picture of our galaxy ever made. The small portion seen here spans nearly 8 degrees, roughly the apparent width of your fist held at arms length, across the galaxy's center. The full mosaic is 120 degrees wide.

MORE AT THE ASTRONOMY PICTURE OF THE DAY

changarro

2008-06-02T21:00:00.000-07:00

Oh, a collage I made got sold on this sweet cart that Sam rolled around called the Changarro. read his post(s) about the changarro here.

whoa

2008-06-02T18:25:00.000-07:00

jordan belson = amazing
read about him
here
here
or here

mexico camping / writing trip

2008-05-31T10:23:00.001-07:00

some photos from my trip:

click here
for the whole set.

i was not stoned when i made this post (pretty cool album cover / NORML)

2008-05-01T22:59:00.001-07:00

cut-up from a contact sheet

2008-04-29T17:51:00.002-07:00

click for a close-up

cut-up from a contact sheet

2008-04-29T17:51:00.000-07:00

gone camping in northern mexico

2008-04-19T08:43:00.001-07:00

bye bye

ROBERT FRIPP

2008-04-14T21:13:00.000-07:00

THIS IS A GREAT CLIP WITH FRIPP USING HIS FRIPPERTRONICS SYSTEM AND GIVING SOME FANTASTIC INSIGHTS.

TO DO LIST, 4/8/2008

2008-04-09T07:09:00.000-07:00

1) Sit on my ass
2) Check email 10 times
3) Cook some food, don't do dishes
4) Drink 10 espressos
5) Smoke some pot
6) Worry about what a waste my life has become
7) Flex arms in front of mirror
8) Listen to the Grateful Dead
9) Quote-along with "Blade Runner"
10) Plan an elaborate concept album I will never record
11) Dump out my "change cup;" search for nickels and dimes; use money for a slur-pee
12) Check email again
13) Write a to-do list
14) Throw all my dirty clothes into a single pile on the ground
15) Think about all the stuff I could be doing
16) Potato chips

"SUCCESS" MAGAZINE

2008-04-08T19:54:00.000-07:00

THE FOLLOWING ARE SOME HEADLINES / ARTICLE TITLES I WROTE DOWN FROM THE LATEST ISSUE OF "SUCCESS MAGAZINE:

"INSTANT INCOME"
"WHEN TO BUY AN OFFICE CONDO"
"FINDING E-FULFILLMENT IN LIFE"
"WE DO THE WORK SO YOU DON'T HAVE TO"
"TEXT MESSAGE SUCCESS"
"CLICK N BUILD"
"TURN YOUR WEBSITE INTO CASH"
"SUPERSIZE YOUR START-UP"
"THE 7 WEALTH SECRETS OF THE RAINFOREST"
"YOUR ONLINE SOURCE FOR SUCCESS"

THE FOLLOWING ARE TITLES OF ARTICLES DISCUSSING CHARITABLE GIVING:
"COMPANIES THAT CONTRIBUTE ARE FINDING THAT GIVING PAYS OFF"
"GIVE IT TO GET IT"
"OFFERING UP YOUR GOODS, SERVICES, AND MONEY CAN PROPEL YOUR BUSINESS TO A NEW PLACE, ONE THAT'S A LITTLE LESS LONELY AND A LOT MORE PROFITABLE"

THE BORDER FENCE

2008-04-07T16:47:00.001-07:00

Can we all just chime in now and agree this fuking border fence in the Rio Grande Valley is an idea far beyond bad ?

Hmmm... let's think of all the great walls in history and how well they fared.

If we can be honest and just admit the real goal of the fence is to get somebody re-elected,,,, then perhaps this construction boondoggle could be construed as "successful."

Read this if you want to know what I'm ranting about :

A National Treasure That May End Up Without a Country

some thoughts on departures

2008-04-01T23:08:00.001-07:00

it's been really crazy ever since i left texas. just driving, driving, more driving, beer, women, 100 foot trees, snow-capped mountains, cold breezes, incessant rain, rare shine, scalding coffee, parties where i know nobody, random sadness, random elation, relentless rejection, days without showers, holes developing in my jeans, angry rednecks, plaid clad lumberjacks, lost toothbrushes, elvis presley on the radio, a meatball stain on my t-shirt, thrift store hunting for cold weather gear, 6 days without changing socks, cheese and bread for every meal, fresh apples from roadside fruit stands, being scared of strange noises, marveling at snow covered mountains, sacred time with my girlfriend, long talks about being scared or alone or the future, marveling at the fresh air and clean sky and stars and everything just flying by- days, hours, towns, miles.

EXCERPT FROM TAO TE CHING, VERSE XX

2008-03-27T18:54:00.000-07:00

The multitude are joyous,
As if partaking of the t'ai lao* offering
Or going up to a terrace** in spring.
I alone am inactive and reveal no signs,
Like a baby that has not yet learned to smile,
Listless as though with no home to go back to.
The multitude all have more than enough,
I alone seem to be in want.
My mind is that of a fool - how blank!
Vulgar people are clear.
I alone am drowsy.
Vulgar people are alert.
I alone am muddled.
Calm like the sea;
Like a high wind that never ceases.
The multitude all have a purpose.
I alone am foolish and uncouth.
I alone am different from others
And value being fed by the mother.

* T'ai lao is the most elaborate kind of feast.
** going on an outing

2 AMAZING FILMS

2008-03-18T09:51:00.000-07:00

ADD THESE TO YOUR "NETFLIX" QUEUE...

"FANNY AND ALEXANDER," BY INGMAR BERGMAN.

"LA JETEE," BY CHRIS MARKER

RAYMOND SCOTT

2008-03-16T03:44:00.000-07:00

UNDER APPRECIATED 20TH CENTURY GENIUS
======================================
CLICK HERE FOR THE RAYMOND SCOTT ARCHIVES.

CLICK HERE FOR AN ILLUSTRATED INTRO.

SHAKESPEARE, SONNET XXX

2008-03-10T12:22:00.000-07:00

When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
I summon up remembrance of things past,
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste:
Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow,
For precious friends hid in death's dateless night,
And weep afresh love's long since cancell'd woe,
And moan the expense of many a vanish'd sight:
Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er
The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,
Which I new pay as if not paid before.
But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,
All losses are restored and sorrows end.

JAZZ WOLF

2008-03-04T08:00:00.001-08:00

Verse 13, "Song of the Open Road"

2008-02-29T11:48:00.000-08:00

"
Behold through you as bad as the rest.
Through the laughter, dancing, dining, supping, of people,
Inside of dresses and ornaments, inside of those wash'd and trimm'd faces
Behold a secret silent loathing and despair.

No husband, no wife, no friend, trusted to hear the confession,
Another self, a duplicate of every one, skulking and hiding it goes,
Formless and wordless through the streets of the cities, polite and bland in the parlors,
In the cars of railroads, in steamboats, in the public assembly,
Home to the houses of men and women, at the table, in the bedroom, everywhere,
Smartly attired, countenence smiling, form upright, death under the breast-bones, hell under the skull-bones,
Under the broadcloth and gloves, under the ribbons and artificial flowers,
Keeping fair with the customs, speaking not a syllable of itself,
Speaking of any thing else but never of itself.

"

By WW, 1881

HENRI CARTIER-BRESSON

2008-02-25T13:01:00.000-08:00

THIS MAN IS BEYOND.

THE ORIGIN OF MY NICKNAME.

2008-02-23T15:49:00.001-08:00

OK, TIME TO FESS UP. I STOLE MY NICKNAME ("LOBO") FROM THIS FILM, "DON'T TELL HER IT'S ME" (STARRING STEVE GUTENBURG AND SHELLEY LONG). MY FRIEND MIKE HAD IT ON VHS A FEW YEARS BACK.

THIS ALSO HAPPENS TO BE THE BEST MOVIE PREVIEW EVER MADE.

CONVENIENT DISPOSABLE COMMUNION SHOT GLASS WITH BUILT-IN WAFER AND WINE

2008-02-22T18:09:00.000-08:00

RECEIVED THIS IN THE MAIL A FEW DAYS AGO.

"Communion is as simple as 1,2,3..."

The wafer is built into the top of the disposable communion shot glass! I received this as part of my order from Kingdom.com, where I've been ordering my tape manufacturing supplies.

"Never fill or wash communion cups again !"

COOLEST BOOK COVER EVER

2008-02-21T13:50:00.001-08:00

Glowing City

2008-02-06T13:58:00.001-08:00

david lynch

2008-02-05T01:00:00.001-08:00

"PINK CLOUDS"

2007-12-04T16:11:00.000-08:00

An album's format most definitely informs the listening experience. I enjoy LPs because they're really huge, for example. I like big artwork and big discs I hold in my hands.

On the flipside, a cassette tape suggests a wide variety of styles (a la mix tapes) and a certain degree of intimacy. Albums are taken as a whole, and after many listens, contradictictory styles blend and begin to make sense.

They are also the ideal music format for a car, as they can be tossed on the ground and in piles with no scratching or quality loss. In the van, we only have a cassette player and somehow it feels just right. Tapes allow leeway for the messiness of the road.

I chose to put out my latest release, "Pink Clouds," on cassette for those reasons.

This cassette is one in a series of steps towards a larger goal. But like my Dad used to say on road trips, "half the fun is getting there late."

The album will be released by Autobus.

TRINIDAD // ONION FEATURE // "AMBIENT ADDITION"

2007-11-26T14:07:00.001-08:00

A re-worked song of mine is going to be featured in an upcoming movie entitled, "Trinidad." You can read about the movie and its director, PJ Raval, here. The movie's working title was "Best Kept Secret."

From the website:

" Located on the Santa Fe Trail, where the Rockies fade into the Great Plains, the one-time mafia-run, coal mining town of Trinidad, Colorado, is an unlikely destination for the 6,500 transsexuals who have gone there to align their bodies with their minds. Trinidad examines the complexities of identity through the eyes of three transgender women who have recently moved to town, and the locals, who for thirty-eight years have called the "sex change capital of the world" home. "
==========================================

I did a feature interview for the Austin edition of The Onion. You cannot read it online, but I scanned it and you can view that by clicking on the scan below. I like the part where they call the music "acid-fried." Have you ever tried frying anything in LSD? I have, and it's fantastic. I like the brown-acid sweet potato fries. Instead of ketchup, you dip 'em in pig blood.

==========================================

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I was recently shown something amazing by my bro-in-law Cameron Campbell:

AMBIENT ADDITION

It's basically an Ipod that makes music of the sounds happening around you in real life. Instead of isloating its user, the user engages with the world in previously unimagined ways.

I think this could be the future of music. It's a little disturbing to me from the standpoint of one who's read "1984," "Brave New World," or "Harrison Bergeron," imagining all reality filtered through a machine or computer.

But as a musician, it's a whole new way of composing, and the most exciting thing I've seen in years.

not exactly news but...

2007-11-15T10:13:00.000-08:00

THESE GUYS ARE NEXT LEVEL

DOOOGLE

2007-11-04T16:14:00.000-08:00

DOOGIE HOWSER SEARCH ENGINE

MORTON'S NEWS

2007-10-26T08:57:00.000-07:00

One of my photos was included in something called a SCHMAP. It's an interactive online map. You can view it here. Mine is the blurred photo of the Burnside Bridge in Portland, OR.

=========================================
SOME
NAM JUNE PAIK VIDEO===

\
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MY FAVORITE ARTIST EVER

ALL TIME FAVE TRACKS, #3 - "FINGERBIB"

2007-10-18T10:15:00.000-07:00

Aphex Twin - "Finger Bib"

Rock out, folks.

ALL TIME FAVE TRACKS, #2 - "CABIN ESSENCE"

2007-10-10T08:12:00.000-07:00

The mighty "Cabin Essence," off the aborted 1966 Beach Boys masterpiece, "Smile." This is a bootleg version. Many exist. This has no vocals... the music is really amazing. Unbelievably ahead of its time.

Beach Boys - "Cabin Essence"

IS IT TRUE THAT GOD CAN TAKE ANY FORM?

2007-10-02T01:04:00.000-07:00

THE WORLD IS YOUR OYSTER

2007-10-01T15:40:00.000-07:00

PESKY BUFFALO AND INDIANS.

THEY'VE BEEN DEALT WITH.

TREES BLOCK THE VIEW. MUCH BETTER VIEW ACROSS SAND DUNES. NOTHING IN THE WAY.

THE WORLD IS NOW YOUR OYSTER !

TENNIS

2007-09-30T23:25:00.000-07:00

BURNING IN FLAMES? CONCRETE SCREAMS?

GO FOR A SWIM, RELAX, HEAD TO THE CLUB, PLAY SOME TENNIS!

P.S. YOU ARE BEING WATCHED.

ALL TIME FAVORITE TRACKS, PART 1

2007-09-29T16:36:00.000-07:00

I've decided to upload tracks I consider "all time faves" and give them away until I'm contacted by somebody's lawyer.

The first in the series is called "Kometenmelodie 2" from Kraftwerk's seminal "Autobahn" album. This track has been a touchstone of sorts for me. something I keep returning back to as a reminder for the beauty and possibility of recorded music.

Kraftwerk - Kometenmelodie2

GRADUATION DAY

2007-09-25T21:07:00.000-07:00

ME AND JAMES // FREE ALBUMS

2007-09-18T12:50:00.000-07:00

Photos courtesy of GvsB.

----------------------------------------------------------------
James Murphy gave me 50 dollars, a new pair of fashionably oversized glasses he'd been wearing all day, and a bottle of champagne in exchange for the three dollar plastic shades I bought outside a UT football game. By coincidence, GvsB caught Polaroids of us both wearing the same shades.
----------------------------------------------------------------
In other news, I am giving away my handmade c.d.s "Silence!" and "{{{ SUNSET }}}" as well as my DVD. You only need to pay for postage. For more info, email me here for more info to email for more info which will be supplied by email.

R.I.P. Sound Team

2007-09-07T13:54:00.000-07:00

Hello friends,

By now you might have heard that Sound Team is disbanding, so to speak.

The reasons are numerous and boring, so I will spare details. They are the typical band problems: stress of the road, diverging tastes, personal tensions, and monetary difficulties. Nothing too dramatic. Just time to move on, that's all.

As to the future

:
Jordan will of course continue drumming. The man is a machine. I have no idea who he will play for, but that band will be lucky indeed.

Gabe has written some great songs on piano and I hope to help him hone / record some of these.

Will has been playing and recording as Sleep Good, and will continue doing so. He has started a band with Michael Bain. Preliminary results indicate great things to come.

Matt has written a fantastic set of songs, his best yet, and will likely record and release them.

Bill (me) will continue recording and releasing music under the {{{ SUNSET }}} moniker ( I have actually changed the name to Silent Sunset). I'm hoping to release an album that far surpasses anything I've previously released. Brighter colors, sharper contrasts, better lyrics. "Raising the bar," it's been called. That is my hope.

Sam, part of the original "rock" lineup of ST, left the band in December to pursue his art and painting. His work is prodigious and impressive, and can be found here.

Michael, who also left the band last December, has returned to school.

Big Orange will change, no doubt, but the dream will remain alive as long as there's breath in my body. I will try to operate the studio more as a commercial venture, engineering bands and producing when asked. If anybody wants help with their music, my rates are quite competitive.

Sound Team's Catalog will be available on our website, completely free, and in high quality digital format. Unreleased material will also be available, including live recordings, radio session, b-sides, and outtakes.
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Having founded the band with Matt, I feel emotional about all this. I invested years into the group, dreamt crazy dreams, laughed, toured, made great friends. I regret nothing. The band, in my mind, achieved great success and made fantastic music. I set out with this band to restore a sense of joy and exuberance to musical performance. At our best, we achieved that goal.

As my official "farewell," I leave you with a video I made for the song "BEDROOM WALLS." Within the video are much of what I hold dear about this band; I worked quite hard on it. I hope you enjoy.

BTW, the conversion was not properly sized; our faces look a bit puffy! I will fix this shortly. Until then, here's the poorly sized "BEDROOM WALLS."

BEFORE THE BREAK /// SANFORD/PHILLIPS OPENING /// "20 NOTE SPIRAL"

2007-09-05T15:04:00.000-07:00

UPDATE:
I fixed the broken links!

-----------------------------------
I just finished a podcast interview with the show "Before the Break." You can download / stream here:

Before the Break Podcast

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In other news, I will be performing a new musical piece, "20 Note Spiral" this Saturday at Sam Sanford and Marguerite Phillips' opening, "Long Distance Relationship." The opening will be 7:00 PM - 10:00 PM
Bolm Gallery: 5305 Bolm Rd. #12, Austin, Texas.

The paintings will be fantastic. An explanation of the exhibition from the website:

This exhibition began as a photographic dialogue, via the Internet, between painters Marguerite Phillips and Sam Sanford. We wandered around our cities - Los Angeles and Austin - taking pictures of anything we liked, sending our pictures to one another, choosing our favorites, then going out to take more pictures. The central theme that emerged from this dialogue was the profound solitude characterizing our relationships to the architectural spaces of our cities. The images we chose to paint express a range of feelings arising from this solitude: quiet wonder, warm affection, lonely alienation, blank numbness.
Each of us painted each photo on identical canvases, Marguerite in Los Angeles and Sam in Austin. Our ways of painting are in many ways antithetical: Marguerite paints in an open-ended process, gradually refining the image in accumulating opaque layers until it captures the mood and feeling evoked by the image. Sam uses a rigidly defined system, digitally separating the image into three or four primary colors (CMY or CMYK) then reconstructing it one single-color transparent layer at a time. The two paintings of each photo will be exhibited side by side.

Throughout this process we have communicated almost entirely via the Internet, and portions of the exhibition take place online. We have kept a blog of our conversations and progress updates; this blog will be made available as part of the exhibition. All of our source photos are available on flickr. In addition to the physical exhibition, all the paintings will be made availale in a comprehensive online exhibtion, opening Monday September 10.
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Sam contacted me to write a new musical piece for the show. I joyfully agreed, and composed a piece in keeping with the show's approach: different takes on a single piece of source material. As different interpretations accumulate, the different approaches to the source material evolve in relation to one another.

I decided to attempt a piece of "process music." In Wikipedia's words,
Process music or systems music is music which arises from a process, and more specifically, music which makes that process audible.

My process: play the same 20 note score on guitar, piano, and synthesizer, each being fed through its own accumulative looping station. A more specific description of the process:

I will play the 20 note score first on guitar and capture it as a loop (using an ElectroHarmonix looping station); I will repeat this process on both piano and synthesizer, using the same 20-note score. Each instrument is being played through its own amplifier, with a background bass pulse.

I will repeat this entire process, replaying the 20-note score into each looping station to create a stacking effect, for exactly one hour.

The soundscape will evolve as polyrhythms arise, eventually overtaken by overtones and ultimately engulfing the room in a pleasantly blurred mass of notes.

Two processes will be at work: patterns on a single instrument interacting with previous patterns looped from the same instrument; and the relationship between each instruments / looping stations will also be evolving. The interaction between the different

Since the variables are strictly defined (3 instruments, a single 20-note score, one hour length), the architecure of the piece will be laid bare.

The result will hopefully be as engaging as the listener wants it to be. Listeners aren't forced to engage with music if they don't wish; this is, after all, an art opening. The music will hopefully provide movement to the room and soundtrack for the paintings.

In keeping with the "20 Note Spiral" title, I will be giving away copies of the score on spiral notebook paper. I also hope to release a recorded version soon.
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In other news, me and my group, known as "SUNSET" and "SILENT SUNSET," (you choose), have plenty of fun shows coming up. Hope to see you at one of them!

honest and true,
Bill

BTW, I will do a performance of "20 Note Spiral" in your living room in exchange for a mystic mango kombucha tea.

OFF TO DENTON !

2007-08-27T09:29:00.000-07:00

This is our road trip to Denton.

NEW TRANSFER - "ZOMBIES" VIDEO // YOUTUBE VS VIRB

2007-08-27T07:35:00.000-07:00

Youtube has been revolutionary for American home entertainment, but the quality is awful. (Even worse than mp3 technology for music). Alternatives have been emerging slowly, but since Youtube created the game, they own the game, in a way.

For my part, I've been uploading videos to several different services. So far, my favorite is called VIRB. The quality is just completely next level compared to YouTube (they allow files three times the size of youtube). They allow you to choose your thumbnail image. Plus they have a cool feature on their page where you can black out everything but the video.

I worked insane hours on my "Zombies" video. So when I put posted it to YouTube and it looked like a fuzzy mess, I was upset. Here is the YouTube version:

And here is the VIRB version:

VIRB seems to stretch out the frame... but overall the insanely better quality makes up for it. I am also investigating a website called DIVX. Anytbody know anything about that?

Anyhow, one thing is certain:

YOUTUBE LOSES.

Video - "End of the World"

2007-08-23T12:58:00.000-07:00

Another super8 video done up by yours truly.