Crushing Krisis

Comic Books, Drag Race, & Life in New Zealand

my music

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I had to sing in rehearsal today, without my guitar. Scary stuff. Another tuner popped off of it a few days ago in the middle of trying to record a Trio, so i finally gave in and sent the poor thing to the shop for a bit of maintenance. Afterwords, Gina and I went on a mad guitar shopping spree where nothing was actually bought but lots of things were touched and ‘ooohed’ at. But, i might not spend money on a new guitar, because i want to go here.

For those not in the know, the South by Southwest Conference is sortof a point of convergence for all sorts of hip folks in the realms of internet and music, and, as it turns out, ten or more SurvivorBloggers of past and present are planning on attending and throwing some wicked hotel parties. Yeah. So, aside from the fact that i’m gonna get hit on more than a 5-year old boy at a MAMBA convention, it seems like it’d be a nice break before finals. Of course… to go to the music & internet portions of the festival i’d have to stay straight through my finals week, which would be a little iffy to plan now seeing as i don’t know when my finals will be. But, either way, i might be going to Texas! Yee-haw!

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/01/2126036/

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So, yeah, theatre. First i bitched about it, and then i got sucked into it, and here i am bitching about it again. I don’t like to act. Maybe i’m good at it, and maybe i’m not, but i only really like the attention i get and being able to stand on a stage above everyone else. That’s it, though. And, yet, somehow i’ve managed to have rehearsal every night and a song i have to arrange and sing and now i’ve got to learn how to method-act my hand being crippled for half of the show. And i have to learn how to scream.

I’m thinking that last bit won’t be to hard. In the show i get struck hard with a hot curling iron, and it both breaks the bones in my hand and burns me badly. My director keeps trying to give me suggestions on how i could perfect this prolonged scream of anguish and despair, some of which were: “Haven’t you ever put your hand into a fire before?” “Go home and try pouring hot wax on yourself. I can give you some pointers on sensitive spots to try.” “Stick your head into an oven later! And make sure to vocalize through the pain.”


Good direction, isn’t it. It’s like in high school … i had to play these two brief minutes of being drunk, and i just didn’t know how to do it. I was straightedge, i was innocent, and i had no idea what alchohol did to human body. My director coaxed and fixed and pointed and when it came time for performance i still looked like some foolish kid who was a little bit dizzy. In retrospect, he should’ve just bought me a bottle of vodka and let me learn the easy way. So, i’m off to find some hot wax… yum.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/01/2110463/

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So, i’ve decided it’s nearly impossible to write a good song anymore. To start with, my guitar hates me. Suddenly it’s holding a tune like it never had before, but it’s intonation is all buzzy and weird and it makes me think i need a new bridge/saddle. Meanwhile, to write a good song you need some sort of central phrase or imagery; a song that just starts and ends without saying anything is a boring song. But, do you know how hard it is to come up with that sort of thing without it being contrived? Phrases like “i’ve got you under my skin,” “you don’t make sense,” & “you are in high relief” came to me in sudden golden moments of inspiration that i could never replicate, and they serve as excellent central metaphors for a song. Without such a theme you’d be left with one of those lamely vague DMB songs that just locomotes by sheer force of guitar kinetics before finally collapsing down upon it’s lack of content.

Meanwhile, writing music is something else entirely. I lately have found it much easier to write music after working out lyrics only because none of the music i write is hook-y enough to lead me to generate lyrics for it out of mid air. So, yeah, i have tons of feelings i want to put down on paper, and lots of paper, but it’s just not working out.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/01/2058226/

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So, i’ve really let my conviction to share my life with y’all lapse this past week, and i apologize. Really, it’s the strangest week i’ve spent in my entire life, starting a week ago today. Or, maybe it’s been the weirdest year of my life starting from then. I’m having this interesting phenomenon lately where some of my old songs seem to be rewriting themselves to match what i’m going through right now; by swapping in something as small as a single word the whole intent of a song can change. “Under My Skin” became a different song on Sunday when i was singing it for someone, because i got stuck on the line “i don’t miss you anymore,” and rather than continuing on in the song i turned it into this cathartic 30-second long repetition with my voice rising in volume every time, only to finally calm for the “i’m not allowed to… but you’re under my skin.” Sure, she’s still under my skin, but i’m not allowed to miss her in a very different way now compared to how it used to be. >sigh

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/01/2000246/

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A quick check of Patti’s website reveals that two decent songs were indeed booted from the record to make room for some of the newer material. I pray that i’m just having a terrible day, and that this record will rock my socks off tomorrow, but i doubt it (seeing as i even managed to listen to my demo cd today, which usually bugs the hell out of me). Indicator of the problem at hand? Producer: Freddie Katz. Front Cover Photo: Freddie Katz. I’m not sure why Patti would want someone else so involved in her music after making such a stunning solo debut, unless she’s fucking the guy. The woman’s a genius and she played every damn guitar on her first album, leave her alone!

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/01/1936804/