I never wanna retune my guitar again. Ever. I don’t know what got into me, but last night after i got done chatting with Re i was listening to a solo recording of Peter Mulvey‘s “Grace,” and i suddenly decided that it would be fun to figure out how to play it. Of course, “Grace” occurs in the tuning CFCFAC, while a guitar starts off in EADGBE. So… that took about a half hour in and of itself, and after that i still had to figure out how to play the song. It was here that my semester of aural skills kicked in, and i easily found some basic notes that had been eluding me on all other occasions of toying with the song. However, the problem with Peter Mulvey is often not finding what notes he’s playing, but where he’s playing them. I’m quite sure i nailed down his pattern on the main riff, but past that i have all the right notes in all the wrong places. Compare: me vs. Peter.
Achieving that first relative victory, i decided to move on the the more impossible, “A Better Way to Go,” which i have seen Peter perform live sitting as close as i am to my computer without being able to play it afterwards. Happily, last night was one of my so-called “magic ear” nights, and the song was hardly even a challenge … i got much closer to the actual sound of it than i did on “Grace,” though i can’t hardly play the scales that he uses inbetween chords. Compare: me vs. Peter.
As a result of all of this fooling around, i think my legendary page of obscure guitar chords (Tori, Ani, Mulvey) is going to finally make its appearance on Uprush any day now, with some fun new additions. WheE!
Year 01
Demo: Impact / Pay For It
So, my mother doesn’t share stories from her youth too often, but there are three very infamous tales from when she was my age about David Bowie. You see, my mother used to be obsessed with Mr. Bowie. If you were to take my fanatical worship of Peter Mulvey, combine it with the awe in which i regard Tori Amos, and then send that all through my nearly frightening dedication to the cast of Friends, you might get to somewhere near how my mother felt about David Bowie.
Her one claim to fame is that she met Bowie in the Sigma Sound studio while he was recording Young Americans here in Philadelphia. At first this story was simple… her friend knew the percussionist, so they got into the studio and then Bowie came out and motioned vaguely in their direction. Over the years i managed to eek some more details from her, like the fact that Bowie was discussion a saxophone passage with David Sanborn (who played on the record). Then i learned (from VH1, which never lies) that David Bowie was on so much cocaine when he recorded in Philly that some of it is actually a blur to him now. I made sure to rub this in my mom’s face at every opportunity, but she’s trumped my coked-up-Bowie with a brand new detail divulged this weekend. Apparently, she got into the studio not because her friend knew the percussionist, but because the percussionist stepped outside for a smoke and asked if anyone had any rolling papers. Of course, my mother’s friend did have them, and somehow they got them into the studio, where her paper-possessing friend proceeded to vainly attempt to make conversation with a surely glazed-over Bowie.
Isn’t she a fun gal? I’m starting to have suspicions about why she doesn’t recall the experience too well…
Everyone in my entire family commented on all of the weight i’ve gained and how good i look now. In a way it’s nice, because none of them ever compliment me on anything so i know i must look healthier, but since i’m not entirely comfortable with my new 20 pounds i’m not exactly thrilled that it was a big subject over Christmas Eve dinner. I think my issue is that i’m filling out well enough, but i’m not really shaping any of the weight, so if i gain any more i might look a little pudgy, which of course would make me very upset. My whole body-image is a very fragile thing, and i know i sound like a teenaged girl, but i’ve always been very thin and this is taking some getting used to. Not to mention that i definitely have a big wheezy fat gene on my father’s side of the family. I should obviously give up meat again… and god help me if i ever start drinking beer… (well, god help us all…)
God or Godless, the whole point of existence is Respect. Some people need a God to put Respect into perspective, and some others need a God as an excuse for not having any. God is in your Respect of others no matter how you slice it, and a kind and loving atheist is worth more than twenty piously judgmental Catholics.