Rock of pages

Bullz-Eye just posted a cool new feature today called "Rock of Pages: 45 Books for the Literate Music Fan." It's exactly what the title implies: a list of rock books with short reviews on each. All the entries were chosen by the staff writers, and I have three entries in the bunch (on "Songbook" by Nick Hornby, "Chronicles, Vol. 1" by Bob Dylan and "Psychotic Reactions and Carburetor Dung" by Lester Bangs). There's also a "celebrity edition." Edie Brickell's entry is particularly amusing. Check it out and enjoy!

A bad habit (newly formed) / Portland travelogue Part 1

First, let me say how much I can't stand the sound of screaming children. Particularly on airplanes. Or in Target. I can at least choose not to shop at Target (which I do -- as in, I do choose to avoid the place as if it's an epicenter for airborne cancer). But I must use air travel services if I want to quickly arrive at a far-off destination. And I unfortunately do not pull in the kind of cash that would allow me to charter a private jet. So commercial airlines shall remain the way to go for little bearded me.

Strangely, after I wrote the first two sentences of this petty rant, the kid who prompted my wholly unnecessary intro paragraph clammed up real good. Meanwhile, some non-commotion ensued over the guy next to me having settled into the wrong seat here on United flight 522. He was in 9B, but his ticket was for 8B. Fortunately for this visually challenged passenger, people in the Bay area aren't terribly picky about such details, and the misplaced man's fellow passengers stepped up to assure the flight attendant, who was twitching over the fact that the flight was 100% full, that it was all good. Seemingly upset that the fight he tried to pick was instantaneously quashed by good will, he turned to his female co-attendant and sarcastically remarked, "are we on Southwest or United?"

But oh yes... the bad habit (newly formed) that this trip reminded me of, which was what prompted me to put pen to paper (literally -- this is an after-the-fact transcription).

So I'm about to hop on a flight to Portland, using some miles I had accumulated via the generous folks at United Airlines, and I had it in mind that I should pick up a bottle of wine for my friend Chris and his wife, who both graciously invited me to visit. While scouting around for a place in the labirynth that is San Francisco International Airport where I could purchase some kind of zin or syrrah, I gave in to the temptation to stop at Compass Books. Never mind the fact that I had intentionally left behind my half-read copy of Dan Matovina's Without You: The Tragic Story of Badfinger specifically so I would be forced to write, rather than read, while in transit. Granted, I'm writing now, but still, I'm not writing what I had intended to write (as in, the next batch of reviews I have due). And what I'm writing now is partially inspired by (or in response to) (or not) what I ended up buying at Compass (thanks a lot, Chuck Klosterman)!

So now, by my count, I have started reading five different books, and that's not counting the used copy of one of a handful of Bob Dylan tomes I bought last Fall that I have yet to start, nor the book on vampires of New England written by an ex-girlfriend's father that I got halfway through before my Halloween spirit started to evaporate. I swear I will finish it once that urge to tramp through graveyards in search of ghosts returns. And mark my words, it will return, because it happened once, and that in turn means I will want to revisit it again, because anything I find pleasurable can't happen only once. It's the law. Or "a" law.

But anyway, the fact that I have not finished reading six different books does not make me proud. It's not "me" to leave a book unfinished, or a drink, or food. I won't even watch a movie halfway (unless someone else is in control of the DVD player) or listen to an album halfway (unless I've heard it all the way through at least once and I really need to watch my time). And yet, I can't seem to help myself. It's like a private rebellion against myself (or against the idea of another ex-girlfriend so proudly proclaiming that she always finished everything she started, so it's like I'm creating a reason to justify the fact that we're no longer together since it makes more sense to me than the real reasons behind the split. Or not.) to indulge in that gross form of American excess where we can just take a bite of, say, a donut, toss the rest, and then start munching on a cheesecake, toss that, and then wash it down with some diet cola. I hate living that way. It makes me sick just to watch people who indulge in wasteful and unhealthy habits, especially if they can't really afford to do it but insist anyway out of some sense of either entitlement or having to keep up with the SUV-driving beyond-their-means mortgage holders living next door. And to be honest, my newly formed habit of not finishing things is really only limited to books at this point (and songs too -- I make Axl Rose look prolific, since I've never released an album in my life). I simply do not have it in me to leave any morsel of food and drink undigested, except for that awful bottle of pinot grigio sitting in my fridge thath I probably won't even cook with since there are so many pieces of cork floating in it. Nope, it's just books for now. And that includes the one I started writing. I got to page 10 and I ran out of writing vibes. Someday I'll finish it. I hope. But not this week. Or month. Or year. Not that I'm giving up. I have other things to write. Reviews, mostly. And I will finish reading the Badfinger book first because there's an artist guide riding on its completion. Actually, I could write the artist guide right now, without having to finish the book, since I know Badfinger's catalog front to back and have enough of their history up in my head to make for a decent guide. But I've convinced myself that reading this book first -- which I should have bought and read seven years ago -- will enable me to write a better guide. And for that reason, all the other books I started shall remain untouched for a while, in hopes that new distractions do not cause me to forget that I own them once the Badfinger dust settles.

And by the way, I'm done.

Bursting out the gate: Popdose, reviews (of course), and more

In which the new year gets off to a running start...

Popdose launched on January 1 as the new, improved, much more content intensive second coming of jefitoblog. Some of my fellow Bullz Eye writers have been contributing regularly, while unfortunately my current circumstances only allot me enough time to be an occasional contributor. I just finished my first contribution, which should probably be running next week. I was asked to write what would have been a "Complete Idiot's Guide" in the past, but what is now a "Popdose guide," to the catalog of the artist who, among other things, was a recipient of both a Lifetime Achievement Grammy Award and the Pulitzer Prize in music last year. It's a long one, so short attention spans need not apply. Stay tuned...

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Meanwhile, I have three new reviews up on Bullz Eye (actually they're 5 days old now, but who's counting?):


The Brother Kite's new The Moonlit Race EP contains one of my favorite songs from last year, an alternate mix of the title track of their second album, Waiting For The Time To Be Right. Every fan of Pet Sounds era Beach Boys needs to hear this one!

I included the Spring Heeled Jacks Original Swinging Jass Band's first album The Dicky Comstock Show in my top ten album picks of 2007, but didn't get around to submitting a full review of the record till after the first of the year. It's an amazing album, musically diverse, well produced and arranged, and the price is right too.

My review of Leigh Marble's Red Tornado prompted the first artist response to one of my reviews, where Marble called me on misquoting one of his lyrics. The misquote has since been corrected.

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I have one new review in Performer this month:

The Purrs' The Chemistry That Keeps Us Together turned out to be my favorite album reviewed for Performer to date. They sound like drunk yet disciplined Americans who have a thing for the same British influences of the Brian Jonestown Massacre. Big difference though is that The Purrs can write concise, catchy, fully formed pop songs. I'm very curious now to hear their live show.

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And it looks like I'll be playing music again as well as writing about it, getting back into the bass groove in a new band workshop, starting on Saturday. Which means another performance coming up in late March or early April.

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Finally, on a non-musical related note, I'm scratching my head over the fact that it took a chance stroll through a Waldenbooks during my recent trip back East to discover What Color Is Your Parachute? Seems nearly everyone knew about it except me! OK, that's a bit of an exaggeration, but the number of people who have responded "oh yeah, the classic" when I tell them what I recently read has astounded me. How is it that nobody ever recommended it to me before? No matter, I found it at the right time, and the exercises have begun. My goal now is to have my own personal strategic plan in place by mid-year. And then, the real action shall begin!

Bob Dylan & Victoria's Secret: a 40-year-old decision

This post is dedicated to Isorski, whose review of Bob Dylan: The Essential Interviews prompted me to buy the book and subsequently make this discovery on page 75:

Dylan was interviewed at a live press conference on KQED-TV, San Francisco, on December 3, 1965, in advance of five Bay Area concerts that month. One question he was asked, in the face of recent 'sell-out' accusations since abandoning acoustic folk music in favor of electric rock n' roll:

"If you were going to sell out to a commercial interest, which one would you choose?"

Dylan's curt answer:

"Ladies garments."

Fast forward to 2006:



I guess he wasn't putting us on back then, was he?

O.J.'s "If I Did It" has leaked

If you've been curious about the book Judith Regan described as O.J.'s "confession" but didn't want to burden your conscience with the idea of throwing any cash at someone who you have believed to be guilty of cold-blooded murder for the past 13 years, you're in luck. TorrentFreak.com reports that If I Did It has leaked as a .pdf file to BitTorrent. You can find it at The Pirate Bay. 485 diggs at digg.com as of now, and more to come, I'm sure. This is going to be one fascinating (and disgusting) read!