Just a short pre-thanksgiving update to let you know what is going on in Blackoutville. Liz and I have scheduled a free show at the Neo-Futurarium with our Upright Bass Player on Friday December 10th. It will be at 10:30pm. You may have to go see Too Much Light to actually get into the space that we are playing but honestly, it's worth it. In December The Neo-Futurists do their Best Of show, and it's usually pretty damn good and almost always sold out. So for directions and what not: www.neofuturists.org
Also if you are interested in the Neos I am in the New York show through the first week of December. You can find info about the NYC branch at the same web site.
EIB will be hitting the road alot the next upcoming year. Liz and I have challenged each other to get out there as much as possilbe to see if we want to continue with the band. At the end of this upcoming year we are going to reevaluate the situation and make a final decision. Bice will be joining us on as many of these tours as he can. He is going to school in Tempe AZ for Studio Recording. It's an intensive course, 7 months straight, so we are going to try to get him out as much as he can before he starts in the summer, and if the band makes it through 2005 he will be once again the full time drummer. I have my fingers crossed.
Europe: We will be in Europe from Feb 2nd thru March 4. If you are in Europe and want us to play your area please contact Baz at www.blahblahblahtours.com
This tour will include: Dave Trevino (Queers) on Drums, Philip Hill (Teen Idols, Queers) on Bass and Scott Conway (Gear, Screeching Weasel, mingchicago.com) on Guitar, Liz on Vocals, and John Jughead on Guitar.
East Coast: I am starting to book a tour for the East Coast to take place around the end of April. If you have a venue or are able to book one in the NorthEast let me know: eveninblackouts@hotmail.com
Japan: This is sketchy at best right now, but we are looking into a week and a half tour through Japan probably around June or July
West Coast: In around August or September we may also decide to hit the NorthWest. We haven't discussed this yet, but I would like to start collecting contacts. Please send contacts to me at eveninblackouts@hotmail.com
Thanks, that is all for now.
ps: I am working hard to actually get mey Weasels in a Box book done. I have a few chapters up at:
http://weaselsinabox.blogspot.com/ if you want to take a look.
John Jughead Pierson
Even In Blackouts
Wednesday, October 20, 2004
Sunday, October 17, 2004
Wednesday, October 06, 2004
Hey Folks just a short message. Just want you to know that Liz, Bice and I are trying to piece things back together. We have a potential line-up for Europe in February. That will be our next tour. We may play a show in Chicago before that to get our chops up. Liz, I and a pleasant fellow named Dan will be performing around Chicago as a trio, more loungy sounding. We have a stand up bass and an acoustic guitar and of course Liz's amazing vocal chords. If you are interested in being put on a mailing list for this just send an e-mail to the eveninblackouts@hotmail account and I will put that together.
Reverend John Jughead Pierson
Reverend John Jughead Pierson
Sunday, August 01, 2004
Hello everybody. One day long ago I said to a friend who is now dead, "I can't call myself a writer, what if I find out one day that I have nothing more to say?" And he replied, "Shut up you Fuck!" And then he gave me a hug.
I tried to write something for this tour, but in the midst of tears, frustration, sweat, biting sarcasm, long drives, passive aggression, hugs and kisses, nights with friends barely seen, uncomfortable silences, bursts of misguided anger, contemplative walks questioning every aspect of the band and life itself, kindness met with hostiity, and hostility met with patience and compassion, selfishness over band needs, stupid fart jokes that you can't help laugh over, personal conversations revealing aspects of ourselves that only band mates can understand, anger at the world for not appreciating our sound right fucking now!, smiles from accross the room that say I can't believe I still love these guys even though I've been in a van with them for almost 5 weeks, night after night of broken drumsticks and guitar strings (85 packs of strings to be exact), warping necks on brand new basses, new guitars that stop working in the middle of a set because too much sweat has seeped into the electronics, audiences cheering, audiences staring at you blankly not letting on whether they enjoy the band or not, playing an all ages show but not going on till 1 in the morning after all the kids' parents have come to pick them up, small towns' overwhelming appreciation for stopping in their city, the cynicism and over abundance of music in over populated areas, learning that the distinction between being in a band for stardom sake and for the love of it is often complicated but lately too often too obvious to feel good about the work you have done for 20 years, and finally coming to terms with the fact that a tour is a day to day bi-polar experience, because of all this I never wrote enough to post here. I started one early on, this is how far I got:
- So It’s 120 degrees on our way through Phoenix to LA. Our incredibly durable big black van, which we lovingly refer to as “the Jug Bug”, pushes it’s way through this desert land. We are proud of our van, it gives its all and we pat it on the dashboard daily and say, “good Job.” I don’t think we actually feel that the van responds in any human way to our sympathies and accolades but why take the chance that it doesn’t need comforting. It is part of our band, sentient or not. Somewhere three fourths of the way through this scalp melting heat, juggy loses the coolness ability. We are not too sure at first, it IS a black van and it IS 120 degrees for god sake, perhaps the air conditioning is just struggling, fighting a losing battle. But when we all start getting a little faint, and all our bodily water begins to dry up, we become confident that our automobile band mate has lost its ability to keep us comfortable. -
Yep, that was it. I think I need rest. I can go home knowing that this time I took care of myself and did not end up with bronchitis, mega man vitamins saved my health.
The five of us have been to hell and back on this tour, and we can still look at each other and say, "my god these people mean alot to me. I want to work with them forever and ever. But right now how can I tell them to get the fuck away from me without offending them?"
Reverend John Jughead Pierson
And his loving band of misfit toys, Even In Blackouts
You're all a big part of my world, Brad, Dan, Liz, and Bice.
thanks for being here.
I tried to write something for this tour, but in the midst of tears, frustration, sweat, biting sarcasm, long drives, passive aggression, hugs and kisses, nights with friends barely seen, uncomfortable silences, bursts of misguided anger, contemplative walks questioning every aspect of the band and life itself, kindness met with hostiity, and hostility met with patience and compassion, selfishness over band needs, stupid fart jokes that you can't help laugh over, personal conversations revealing aspects of ourselves that only band mates can understand, anger at the world for not appreciating our sound right fucking now!, smiles from accross the room that say I can't believe I still love these guys even though I've been in a van with them for almost 5 weeks, night after night of broken drumsticks and guitar strings (85 packs of strings to be exact), warping necks on brand new basses, new guitars that stop working in the middle of a set because too much sweat has seeped into the electronics, audiences cheering, audiences staring at you blankly not letting on whether they enjoy the band or not, playing an all ages show but not going on till 1 in the morning after all the kids' parents have come to pick them up, small towns' overwhelming appreciation for stopping in their city, the cynicism and over abundance of music in over populated areas, learning that the distinction between being in a band for stardom sake and for the love of it is often complicated but lately too often too obvious to feel good about the work you have done for 20 years, and finally coming to terms with the fact that a tour is a day to day bi-polar experience, because of all this I never wrote enough to post here. I started one early on, this is how far I got:
- So It’s 120 degrees on our way through Phoenix to LA. Our incredibly durable big black van, which we lovingly refer to as “the Jug Bug”, pushes it’s way through this desert land. We are proud of our van, it gives its all and we pat it on the dashboard daily and say, “good Job.” I don’t think we actually feel that the van responds in any human way to our sympathies and accolades but why take the chance that it doesn’t need comforting. It is part of our band, sentient or not. Somewhere three fourths of the way through this scalp melting heat, juggy loses the coolness ability. We are not too sure at first, it IS a black van and it IS 120 degrees for god sake, perhaps the air conditioning is just struggling, fighting a losing battle. But when we all start getting a little faint, and all our bodily water begins to dry up, we become confident that our automobile band mate has lost its ability to keep us comfortable. -
Yep, that was it. I think I need rest. I can go home knowing that this time I took care of myself and did not end up with bronchitis, mega man vitamins saved my health.
The five of us have been to hell and back on this tour, and we can still look at each other and say, "my god these people mean alot to me. I want to work with them forever and ever. But right now how can I tell them to get the fuck away from me without offending them?"
Reverend John Jughead Pierson
And his loving band of misfit toys, Even In Blackouts
You're all a big part of my world, Brad, Dan, Liz, and Bice.
thanks for being here.
Saturday, June 19, 2004
Hey people. I forgot to mention in that last blog that I have a play running soon in Hollywood. Yes, I said it, Hollywood. A play in Hollywood? Do such things exist? Yes they do, thank you. But hardly anybody attends, they're too buys meeting or trying to become famous people. Which, quite frankly, I don't really have a problem with that. Surprise surprise. I just wished they'd pack up their little makeup cases, stick their buffed arms and legs into some clothes and go see my nice little play about funny, yet darkly depressed clowns at the Complex Theater Building.
Here is where you can get info: www.fourclowns.com Even In Blackouts will be playing the opening night. It's kind of pricey, but hopefully we will make it worth it. There is only room for about 50 so it will be a fun cosey experience.
By the way, I'm a Reverend now. I conducted a wedding last week, and boy I felt somewhat special.
And so it goes...
John Jughead
Here is where you can get info: www.fourclowns.com Even In Blackouts will be playing the opening night. It's kind of pricey, but hopefully we will make it worth it. There is only room for about 50 so it will be a fun cosey experience.
By the way, I'm a Reverend now. I conducted a wedding last week, and boy I felt somewhat special.
And so it goes...
John Jughead
Well there people of Blackoutville. Were you wondering if your fellow villagers in the band known as EIB had all died off secretly? Well... no! We are all fine and dandy. We have been each individually trying to keep afloat in these hard economic times. We often forget that lives need maintenance. And some lives need higher maintenance than others, if you know what I mean... Do you? Because quite frankly, I’m not too sure what I mean.
Anycow, and now on to some business:
We are starting a tour! Yeah (cough, cough, I’m getting old). We leave the windy city of Chicago on July 1st and we head South West. Ya’ know where the summers are nice and cool, and we sell plenty of hoodies. (I’m joking.) But we are touring the South, I was just joking about the weather conditions. Weather, now that is a funny topic. Remember that friends. Whenever your conversations are geting boring talk about the weather, with a humorous edge. That will floor anybody still breathing. So what was I talking about? Wait a minute. I’m going to pause for a moment and read back what I wrote, so that I can remember where I am. You wait here. (pause) Ok, now I remember. We are going on tour! You can find accurate information about the shows at our “shows” section on our site: www.eveninblackouts.com
Here is some more news. Knock Knock Records has kindly agreed to put out a limited edition of our new record Zeitgeist’s Echo. We will hopefully have it in our hands about the second week of the tour. I think we will be in the midst of the land of Texas, where everything is big, even the cockroaches (that’s not spelled right, is it?) The official release party will be in Chicago on Sunday August 1st. And I’m sure we will have some kind of prizes and raffles. (I just made that up. But I said it, so now it will have to happen. Prizes will be purchased and given away for free!) Boy o boy why do I even open my metaphorical mouth. I should just keep my hands shut.
We will also be touring Europe in October. This is pending based on our ability to get plane tickets that we can afford.
I think I will have more to say soon, so keep your eye on the bloggity blogg, I may get in some feisty moods soon.
I miss all of you, some more than others, but... you know who you are. Or do you?
thanks
Reverend John Jughead Pierson
Anycow, and now on to some business:
We are starting a tour! Yeah (cough, cough, I’m getting old). We leave the windy city of Chicago on July 1st and we head South West. Ya’ know where the summers are nice and cool, and we sell plenty of hoodies. (I’m joking.) But we are touring the South, I was just joking about the weather conditions. Weather, now that is a funny topic. Remember that friends. Whenever your conversations are geting boring talk about the weather, with a humorous edge. That will floor anybody still breathing. So what was I talking about? Wait a minute. I’m going to pause for a moment and read back what I wrote, so that I can remember where I am. You wait here. (pause) Ok, now I remember. We are going on tour! You can find accurate information about the shows at our “shows” section on our site: www.eveninblackouts.com
Here is some more news. Knock Knock Records has kindly agreed to put out a limited edition of our new record Zeitgeist’s Echo. We will hopefully have it in our hands about the second week of the tour. I think we will be in the midst of the land of Texas, where everything is big, even the cockroaches (that’s not spelled right, is it?) The official release party will be in Chicago on Sunday August 1st. And I’m sure we will have some kind of prizes and raffles. (I just made that up. But I said it, so now it will have to happen. Prizes will be purchased and given away for free!) Boy o boy why do I even open my metaphorical mouth. I should just keep my hands shut.
We will also be touring Europe in October. This is pending based on our ability to get plane tickets that we can afford.
I think I will have more to say soon, so keep your eye on the bloggity blogg, I may get in some feisty moods soon.
I miss all of you, some more than others, but... you know who you are. Or do you?
thanks
Reverend John Jughead Pierson
Thursday, April 01, 2004
Oh where oh where has my little band gone? I am lost, I am found, I'll be getting home on a geyhound. John Jughead Pierson reporting from NYC. I am only one block away from ground zero, and I have joined a highly mainstream fitness center called "Crunch". Down the block from Wallstreet. Here is a conversation I heard in the locker room between two chiseled businessmen in their underwear:
"Hey where's Bob?"
"Bob only works out on his lunch break every other day."
"I wonder what routine he's on."
"I banged his sister a couple of times last year without him knowing." (Laugh)
"That's cool, dude." (a slight envious snicker)
"Yeah."
I had nothing to say. They weren't talking to me, plus I don't know Bob or his sister. And also I'm not sure what a "routine" is.
I miss my band. We have these long stretches of time where we don't see each other. Right now I am in NYC, Brad is on the road driving to Jersey City, Dan-e is at school in Detroit, Liz is working and trying to save money on "the southside!" in chicago, and Bice is driving cross country to visit his family in Idaho on his way to San Francisco.
We are all planning to get back together in June for a short short tour, (somewhere) and then we will be touring all of July, and then we are off to EUROPE in October!
Ya' know, I'm up late and I thought that that may cause me to write an interesting blagelty oggerdoo but this entry is boring me. Boring me. Boring me!
Sometimes when you are living an exciting life, the last thing you want to do is sit down and write about it. I would like to think that that is my current problem. If not, I must ask, "who stole the funny?"
Here is a question my friend had to answer in order to prepare for her oral class project this week. "How do you explain that Chekov is funny?" How do you even attempt to explain humor? I did not envy this challenge.
She also told me that her theater teacher said to her once while she was at the end of a rather physical solo piece "Now feel it in your cunt." I laughed, I laughed a double coincidence laugh. I had been trying to remember for awhile a comment an old hippie lady made to Liz after our first living room show. It was for a room full of senior citizen fag hags, fops, and a hand full of friends. It was so much fun, and extremely entertaining. Anyway, after the performance this old hippie lady approached Liz and said, "You are a great singer, I felt it in my cunt." Liz, being a wonderful human being, burst out with a genuine laugh and gave the woman a hug. Now I have memories that allow me to laugh at hearing the word "cunt" instead of feeling like I have to lash out at some neanderthals while they are bragging about their conquests, or criticizing their target's sexual rejections.
That's all.
If you are in NYC check out the new Too Much Light... cast in Brooklyn. You can find out about it on the www.neofuturists.org page. Look for the Brooklyn link.
Take care and see you all soon.
John
"Hey where's Bob?"
"Bob only works out on his lunch break every other day."
"I wonder what routine he's on."
"I banged his sister a couple of times last year without him knowing." (Laugh)
"That's cool, dude." (a slight envious snicker)
"Yeah."
I had nothing to say. They weren't talking to me, plus I don't know Bob or his sister. And also I'm not sure what a "routine" is.
I miss my band. We have these long stretches of time where we don't see each other. Right now I am in NYC, Brad is on the road driving to Jersey City, Dan-e is at school in Detroit, Liz is working and trying to save money on "the southside!" in chicago, and Bice is driving cross country to visit his family in Idaho on his way to San Francisco.
We are all planning to get back together in June for a short short tour, (somewhere) and then we will be touring all of July, and then we are off to EUROPE in October!
Ya' know, I'm up late and I thought that that may cause me to write an interesting blagelty oggerdoo but this entry is boring me. Boring me. Boring me!
Sometimes when you are living an exciting life, the last thing you want to do is sit down and write about it. I would like to think that that is my current problem. If not, I must ask, "who stole the funny?"
Here is a question my friend had to answer in order to prepare for her oral class project this week. "How do you explain that Chekov is funny?" How do you even attempt to explain humor? I did not envy this challenge.
She also told me that her theater teacher said to her once while she was at the end of a rather physical solo piece "Now feel it in your cunt." I laughed, I laughed a double coincidence laugh. I had been trying to remember for awhile a comment an old hippie lady made to Liz after our first living room show. It was for a room full of senior citizen fag hags, fops, and a hand full of friends. It was so much fun, and extremely entertaining. Anyway, after the performance this old hippie lady approached Liz and said, "You are a great singer, I felt it in my cunt." Liz, being a wonderful human being, burst out with a genuine laugh and gave the woman a hug. Now I have memories that allow me to laugh at hearing the word "cunt" instead of feeling like I have to lash out at some neanderthals while they are bragging about their conquests, or criticizing their target's sexual rejections.
That's all.
If you are in NYC check out the new Too Much Light... cast in Brooklyn. You can find out about it on the www.neofuturists.org page. Look for the Brooklyn link.
Take care and see you all soon.
John
Oh where oh where has my little band gone? I am lost, I am found, I'll be getting home on a geyhound. John Jughead Pierson reporting from NYC. I am only one block away from ground zero, and I have joined a highly mainstream fitness center called "Crunch". Down the block from Wallstreet. Here is a conversation I heard in the locker room between two chiseled businessmen in their underwear:
"Hey where's Bob?"
"Bob only works out on his lunch break every other day."
"I wonder what routine he's on."
"I banged his sister a couple of times last year without him knowing." (Laugh)
"That's cool, dude." (a slight envious snicker)
"Yeah."
I had nothing to say. They weren't talking to me, plus I don't know Bob or his sister. And also I'm not sure what a "routine" is.
I miss my band. We have these long stretches of time where we don't see each other. Right now I am in NYC, Brad is on the road driving to Jersey City, Dan-e is at school in Detroit, Liz is working and trying to save money on "the southside!" in chicago, and Bice is driving cross country to visit his family in Idaho on his way to San Francisco.
We are all planning to get back together in June for a short short tour, (somewhere) and then we will be touring all of July, and then we are off to EUROPE in October!
Ya' know, I'm up late and I thought that that may cause me to write an interesting blagelty oggerdoo but this entry is boring me. Boring me. Boring me!
Sometimes when you are living an exciting life, the last thing you want to do is sit down and write about it. I would like to think that that is my current problem. If not, I must ask, "who stole the funny?"
Here is a question my friend had to answer in order to prepare for her oral class project this week. "How do you explain that Chekov is funny?" How do you even attempt to explain humor? I did not envy this challenge.
She also told me that her theater teacher said to her once while she was at the end of a rather physical solo piece "Now feel it in your cunt." I laughed, I laughed a double coincidence laugh. I had been trying to remember for awhile a comment an old hippie lady made to Liz after our first living room show. It was for a room full of senior citizen fag hags, fops, and a hand full of friends. It was so much fun, and extremely entertaining. Anyway, after the performance this old hippie lady approached Liz and said, "You are a great singer, I felt it in my cunt." Liz, being a wonderful human being, burst out with a genuine laugh and gave the woman a hug. Now I have memories that allow me to laugh at hearing the word "cunt" instead of feeling like I have to lash out at some neanderthals while they are bragging about their conquests, or criticizing their targets sexual rejections.
That's all.
If you are in NYC check out the new Too Much Light... cast in Brooklyn. You can find out about it on the www.neofuturists.org page. Look for the Brooklyn link.
Take care and see you all soon.
John
"Hey where's Bob?"
"Bob only works out on his lunch break every other day."
"I wonder what routine he's on."
"I banged his sister a couple of times last year without him knowing." (Laugh)
"That's cool, dude." (a slight envious snicker)
"Yeah."
I had nothing to say. They weren't talking to me, plus I don't know Bob or his sister. And also I'm not sure what a "routine" is.
I miss my band. We have these long stretches of time where we don't see each other. Right now I am in NYC, Brad is on the road driving to Jersey City, Dan-e is at school in Detroit, Liz is working and trying to save money on "the southside!" in chicago, and Bice is driving cross country to visit his family in Idaho on his way to San Francisco.
We are all planning to get back together in June for a short short tour, (somewhere) and then we will be touring all of July, and then we are off to EUROPE in October!
Ya' know, I'm up late and I thought that that may cause me to write an interesting blagelty oggerdoo but this entry is boring me. Boring me. Boring me!
Sometimes when you are living an exciting life, the last thing you want to do is sit down and write about it. I would like to think that that is my current problem. If not, I must ask, "who stole the funny?"
Here is a question my friend had to answer in order to prepare for her oral class project this week. "How do you explain that Chekov is funny?" How do you even attempt to explain humor? I did not envy this challenge.
She also told me that her theater teacher said to her once while she was at the end of a rather physical solo piece "Now feel it in your cunt." I laughed, I laughed a double coincidence laugh. I had been trying to remember for awhile a comment an old hippie lady made to Liz after our first living room show. It was for a room full of senior citizen fag hags, fops, and a hand full of friends. It was so much fun, and extremely entertaining. Anyway, after the performance this old hippie lady approached Liz and said, "You are a great singer, I felt it in my cunt." Liz, being a wonderful human being, burst out with a genuine laugh and gave the woman a hug. Now I have memories that allow me to laugh at hearing the word "cunt" instead of feeling like I have to lash out at some neanderthals while they are bragging about their conquests, or criticizing their targets sexual rejections.
That's all.
If you are in NYC check out the new Too Much Light... cast in Brooklyn. You can find out about it on the www.neofuturists.org page. Look for the Brooklyn link.
Take care and see you all soon.
John
Oh where oh where has my little band gone? I am lost, I am found, I'll be getting home on a geyhound. John Jughead Pierson reporting from NYC. I am only one block away from ground zero, and I have joined a highly mainstream fitness center called "Crunch". Down the block from Wallstreet. Here is a conversation I heard in the locker room between two chiseled businessmen in their underwear:
"Hey where's Bob?"
"Bob only works out on his lunch break every other day."
"I wonder what routine he's on."
"I banged his sister a couple of times last year without him knowing." (Laugh)
"That's cool, dude." (a slight envious snicker)
"Yeah."
I had nothing to say. They weren't talking to me, plus I don't know Bob or his sister. And also I'm not sure what a "routine" is.
I miss my band. We have these long stretches of time where we don't see each other. Right now I am in NYC, Brad is on the road driving to Jersey City, Dan-e is at school in Detroit, Liz is working and trying to save money on "the southside!" in chicago, and Bice is driving cross country to visit his family in Idaho on his way to San Francisco.
We are all planning to get back together in June for a short short tour, (somewhere) and then we will be touring all of July, and then we are off to EUROPE in October!
Ya' know, I'm up late and I thought that that may cause me to write an interesting blagelty oggerdoo but this entry is boring me. Boring me. Boring me!
Sometimes when you are living an exciting life, the last thing you want to do is sit down and write about it. I would like to think that that is my current problem. If not, I must ask, "who stole the funny?"
Here is a question my friend had to answer in order to prepare for her oral class project this week. "How do you explain that Chekov is funny?" How do you even attempt to explain humor? I did not envy this challenge.
She also told me that her theater teacher said to her once while she was at the end of a rather physical solo piece "Now feel it in your cunt." I laughed, I laughed a double coincidence laugh. I had been trying to remember for awhile a comment an old hippie lady made to Liz after our first living room show. It was for a room full of senior citizen fag hags, fops, and a hand full of friends. It was so much fun, and extremely entertaining. Anyway, after the performance this old hippie lady approached Liz and said, "You are a great singer, I could feel it in my cunt." Liz, being a wonderful human being, burst out with a genuine laugh and gave the woman a hug. Now I have memories that allow me to laugh at hearing the word "cunt" instead of feeling like I have to lash out at some neanderthals while they are bragging about their conquests, or criticizing their targets sexual rejections.
That's all.
If you are in NYC check out the new Too Much Light... cast in Brooklyn. You can find out about it on the www.neofuturists.org page. Look for the Brooklyn link.
Take care and see you all soon.
John
"Hey where's Bob?"
"Bob only works out on his lunch break every other day."
"I wonder what routine he's on."
"I banged his sister a couple of times last year without him knowing." (Laugh)
"That's cool, dude." (a slight envious snicker)
"Yeah."
I had nothing to say. They weren't talking to me, plus I don't know Bob or his sister. And also I'm not sure what a "routine" is.
I miss my band. We have these long stretches of time where we don't see each other. Right now I am in NYC, Brad is on the road driving to Jersey City, Dan-e is at school in Detroit, Liz is working and trying to save money on "the southside!" in chicago, and Bice is driving cross country to visit his family in Idaho on his way to San Francisco.
We are all planning to get back together in June for a short short tour, (somewhere) and then we will be touring all of July, and then we are off to EUROPE in October!
Ya' know, I'm up late and I thought that that may cause me to write an interesting blagelty oggerdoo but this entry is boring me. Boring me. Boring me!
Sometimes when you are living an exciting life, the last thing you want to do is sit down and write about it. I would like to think that that is my current problem. If not, I must ask, "who stole the funny?"
Here is a question my friend had to answer in order to prepare for her oral class project this week. "How do you explain that Chekov is funny?" How do you even attempt to explain humor? I did not envy this challenge.
She also told me that her theater teacher said to her once while she was at the end of a rather physical solo piece "Now feel it in your cunt." I laughed, I laughed a double coincidence laugh. I had been trying to remember for awhile a comment an old hippie lady made to Liz after our first living room show. It was for a room full of senior citizen fag hags, fops, and a hand full of friends. It was so much fun, and extremely entertaining. Anyway, after the performance this old hippie lady approached Liz and said, "You are a great singer, I could feel it in my cunt." Liz, being a wonderful human being, burst out with a genuine laugh and gave the woman a hug. Now I have memories that allow me to laugh at hearing the word "cunt" instead of feeling like I have to lash out at some neanderthals while they are bragging about their conquests, or criticizing their targets sexual rejections.
That's all.
If you are in NYC check out the new Too Much Light... cast in Brooklyn. You can find out about it on the www.neofuturists.org page. Look for the Brooklyn link.
Take care and see you all soon.
John
Oh where oh where has my little band gone? I am lost, I am found, I'll be getting home on a geyhound. John Jughead Pierson reporting from NYC. I am only one block away from ground zero, and I have joined a highly mainstream fitness center called "Crunch". Down the block from Wallstreet. Here is a conversation I heard in the locker room between two chiseled businessmen in their underwear:
"Hey where's Bob?"
"Bob only works out on his lunch break every other day."
"I wonder what routine he's on."
"I banged his sister for while last year without him knowing." (Laugh)
"That's cool, dude." (a slight envious snicker)
"Yeah."
I had nothing to say. They weren't talking to me, plus I don't know Bob or his sister. And also I'm not sure what a "routine" is.
I miss my band. We have these long stretches of time where we don't see each other. Right now I am in NYC, Brad is on the road driving to Jersey City, Dan-e is at school in Detroit, Liz is working and trying to save money on "the southside!" in chicago, and Bice is driving cross country to visit his family in Idaho on his way to San Francisco.
We are all planning to get back together in June for a short short tour, (somewhere) and then we will be touring all of July, and then we are off to EUROPE in October!
Ya' know, I'm up late and I thought that that may cause me to write an interesting blagelty oggerdoo but this entry is boring me. Boring me. Boring me!
Sometimes when you are living an exciting life, the last thing you want to do is sit down and write about it. I would like to think that that is my current problem. If not, I must ask, "who stole the funny?"
Here is a question my friend had to answer in order to prepare for her oral class project this week. "How do you explain that Chekov is funny?" How do you even attempt to explain humor? I did not envy this challenge.
She also told me that her theater teacher said to her once while she was at the end of a rather physical solo piece "Now feel it in your cunt." I laughed, I laughed a double coincidence laugh. I had been trying to remember for awhile a comment an old hippie lady made to Liz after our first living room show. It was for a room full of senior citizen fag hags, fops, and a hand full of friends. It was so much fun, and extremely entertaining. Anyway, after the performance this old hippie lady approached Liz and said, "You are a great singer, I could feel it in my cunt." Liz, being a wonderful human being, burst out with a genuine laugh and gave the woman a hug. Now I have memories that allow me to laugh at hearing the word "cunt" instead of feeling like I have to lash out at some neanderthals while they are bragging about their conquests, or criticizing their targets sexual rejections.
That's all.
If you are in NYC check out the new Too Much Light... cast in Brooklyn. You can find out about it on the www.neofuturists.org page. Look for the Brooklyn link.
Take care and see you all soon.
John
"Hey where's Bob?"
"Bob only works out on his lunch break every other day."
"I wonder what routine he's on."
"I banged his sister for while last year without him knowing." (Laugh)
"That's cool, dude." (a slight envious snicker)
"Yeah."
I had nothing to say. They weren't talking to me, plus I don't know Bob or his sister. And also I'm not sure what a "routine" is.
I miss my band. We have these long stretches of time where we don't see each other. Right now I am in NYC, Brad is on the road driving to Jersey City, Dan-e is at school in Detroit, Liz is working and trying to save money on "the southside!" in chicago, and Bice is driving cross country to visit his family in Idaho on his way to San Francisco.
We are all planning to get back together in June for a short short tour, (somewhere) and then we will be touring all of July, and then we are off to EUROPE in October!
Ya' know, I'm up late and I thought that that may cause me to write an interesting blagelty oggerdoo but this entry is boring me. Boring me. Boring me!
Sometimes when you are living an exciting life, the last thing you want to do is sit down and write about it. I would like to think that that is my current problem. If not, I must ask, "who stole the funny?"
Here is a question my friend had to answer in order to prepare for her oral class project this week. "How do you explain that Chekov is funny?" How do you even attempt to explain humor? I did not envy this challenge.
She also told me that her theater teacher said to her once while she was at the end of a rather physical solo piece "Now feel it in your cunt." I laughed, I laughed a double coincidence laugh. I had been trying to remember for awhile a comment an old hippie lady made to Liz after our first living room show. It was for a room full of senior citizen fag hags, fops, and a hand full of friends. It was so much fun, and extremely entertaining. Anyway, after the performance this old hippie lady approached Liz and said, "You are a great singer, I could feel it in my cunt." Liz, being a wonderful human being, burst out with a genuine laugh and gave the woman a hug. Now I have memories that allow me to laugh at hearing the word "cunt" instead of feeling like I have to lash out at some neanderthals while they are bragging about their conquests, or criticizing their targets sexual rejections.
That's all.
If you are in NYC check out the new Too Much Light... cast in Brooklyn. You can find out about it on the www.neofuturists.org page. Look for the Brooklyn link.
Take care and see you all soon.
John
Oh where oh where has my little band gone? I am lost, I am found, I'll be getting home on a geyhound. John Jughead Pierson reporting in from NYC. I am only one block away from ground zero, and I have joined a highly mainstream fitness center called "Crunch". Down the block from Wallstreet. Here is a conversation I heard in the locker room between two chiseled businessmen in their underwear:
"Hey where's Bob?"
"Bob only works out on his lunch break every other day."
"I wonder what routine he's on."
"I banged his sister for while last year without him knowing." (Laugh)
"That's cool, dude." (a slight envious snicker)
"Yeah."
I had nothing to say. They weren't talking to me, plus I don't know Bob or his sister. And also I'm not sure what a "routine" is.
I miss my band. We have these long stretches of time where we don't see each other. Right now I am in NYC, Brad is on the road driving to Jersey City, Dan-e is at school in Detroit, Liz is working and trying to save money on "the southside!" in chicago, and Bice is driving cross country to visit his family in Idaho on his way to San Francisco.
We are all planning to get back together in June for a short short tour, (somewhere) and then we will be touring all of July, and then we are off to EUROPE in October!
Ya' know, I'm up late and I thought that that may cause me to write an interesting blagelty oggerdoo but this entry is boring me. Boring me. Boring me!
Sometimes when you are living an exciting life, the last thing you want to do is sit down and write about it. I would like to think that that is my current problem. If not, I must ask, "who stole the funny?"
Here is a question my friend had to answer in order to prepare for her oral class project this week. "How do you explain that Chekov is funny?" How do you even attempt to explain humor? I did not envy this challenge.
She also told me that her theater teacher said to her once while she was at the end of a rather physical solo piece "Now feel it in your cunt." I laughed, I laughed a double coincidence laugh. I had been trying to remember for awhile a comment an old hippie lady made to Liz after our first living room show. It was for a room full of senior citizen fag hags, fops, and a hand full of friends. It was so much fun, and extremely entertaining. Anyway, after the performance this old hippie lady approached Liz and said, "You are a great singer, I could feel it in my cunt." Liz, being a wonderful human being, burst out with a genuine laugh and gave the woman a hug. Now I have memories that allow me to laugh at hearing the word "cunt" instead of feeling like I have to lash out at some neanderthals while they are bragging about their conquests, or criticizing their targets sexual rejections.
That's all.
If you are in NYC check out the new Too Much Light... cast in Brooklyn. You can find out about it on the www.neofuturists.org page. Look for the Brooklyn link.
Take care and see you all soon.
John
"Hey where's Bob?"
"Bob only works out on his lunch break every other day."
"I wonder what routine he's on."
"I banged his sister for while last year without him knowing." (Laugh)
"That's cool, dude." (a slight envious snicker)
"Yeah."
I had nothing to say. They weren't talking to me, plus I don't know Bob or his sister. And also I'm not sure what a "routine" is.
I miss my band. We have these long stretches of time where we don't see each other. Right now I am in NYC, Brad is on the road driving to Jersey City, Dan-e is at school in Detroit, Liz is working and trying to save money on "the southside!" in chicago, and Bice is driving cross country to visit his family in Idaho on his way to San Francisco.
We are all planning to get back together in June for a short short tour, (somewhere) and then we will be touring all of July, and then we are off to EUROPE in October!
Ya' know, I'm up late and I thought that that may cause me to write an interesting blagelty oggerdoo but this entry is boring me. Boring me. Boring me!
Sometimes when you are living an exciting life, the last thing you want to do is sit down and write about it. I would like to think that that is my current problem. If not, I must ask, "who stole the funny?"
Here is a question my friend had to answer in order to prepare for her oral class project this week. "How do you explain that Chekov is funny?" How do you even attempt to explain humor? I did not envy this challenge.
She also told me that her theater teacher said to her once while she was at the end of a rather physical solo piece "Now feel it in your cunt." I laughed, I laughed a double coincidence laugh. I had been trying to remember for awhile a comment an old hippie lady made to Liz after our first living room show. It was for a room full of senior citizen fag hags, fops, and a hand full of friends. It was so much fun, and extremely entertaining. Anyway, after the performance this old hippie lady approached Liz and said, "You are a great singer, I could feel it in my cunt." Liz, being a wonderful human being, burst out with a genuine laugh and gave the woman a hug. Now I have memories that allow me to laugh at hearing the word "cunt" instead of feeling like I have to lash out at some neanderthals while they are bragging about their conquests, or criticizing their targets sexual rejections.
That's all.
If you are in NYC check out the new Too Much Light... cast in Brooklyn. You can find out about it on the www.neofuturists.org page. Look for the Brooklyn link.
Take care and see you all soon.
John
Tuesday, March 02, 2004
There's an interesting side story which John left out of his journal entry.
Lets call that story "THE KEY". I called John on the day he left for New York, hoping to catch him before he went to the airport. I was to late, and only got his voicemail. I assumed that he had remembered to leave the key to his house where ALL our equiptment was...afterall, how could we go on tour without it ? So, I left John a voicemail saying "I'm sure you remembered to leave a key. Where is it?" It was an hour or so later when I got a call from John who was fresh off his flight to NY..."I have the key right here, I'll Fed-Ex it back to Chicago today." Here's where things get interesting. The key was to show up on the 25th, tour was to start on the 26th. The key never showed up...well, it did...but it showed up sometime between 4:30 and 5:00 pm on the 25th, and was locked up in the office at our apartment building. Needless to say, I was unaware of its presence. So, long story short...John calls over to Mr. X (again, as in Johns post, no need for secrecy, but in this case it seems fun to use an alias) who lives in the house where all our stuff is at and informs him of the situation.
He lets John know that he leaves for work at 8:30am so we need to come before that to load the van. This is fine of course, as we definitely need our gear. So I wake up around 7:30, as does Liz who is meeting me at the house. I get there early and bring all the gear outside, Liz shows up, we load the van and leave. Now, it's only 9:00 am and we don't have to leave for the show until noon. So we go back to my apartment to rest up. Of course I check my mail when we get back, and sure enough (cue dramatic music) THE KEY has arrived. At this point it really did not matter that it had come, but it was nice to know that it was there...just a little to late.
Ok, that's the story of the key.
On the way to the show Liz and I spent 6 hours singing in the van. Listened to a lot of Prince, and I did my kick ass sing-a-long to the soundtrack of Little Shop of Horrors.
Anyway, we're getting ready to head to Jersey City for night 6 of the tour. Things have been going really well...I'm done typing now. Bye.
Lets call that story "THE KEY". I called John on the day he left for New York, hoping to catch him before he went to the airport. I was to late, and only got his voicemail. I assumed that he had remembered to leave the key to his house where ALL our equiptment was...afterall, how could we go on tour without it ? So, I left John a voicemail saying "I'm sure you remembered to leave a key. Where is it?" It was an hour or so later when I got a call from John who was fresh off his flight to NY..."I have the key right here, I'll Fed-Ex it back to Chicago today." Here's where things get interesting. The key was to show up on the 25th, tour was to start on the 26th. The key never showed up...well, it did...but it showed up sometime between 4:30 and 5:00 pm on the 25th, and was locked up in the office at our apartment building. Needless to say, I was unaware of its presence. So, long story short...John calls over to Mr. X (again, as in Johns post, no need for secrecy, but in this case it seems fun to use an alias) who lives in the house where all our stuff is at and informs him of the situation.
He lets John know that he leaves for work at 8:30am so we need to come before that to load the van. This is fine of course, as we definitely need our gear. So I wake up around 7:30, as does Liz who is meeting me at the house. I get there early and bring all the gear outside, Liz shows up, we load the van and leave. Now, it's only 9:00 am and we don't have to leave for the show until noon. So we go back to my apartment to rest up. Of course I check my mail when we get back, and sure enough (cue dramatic music) THE KEY has arrived. At this point it really did not matter that it had come, but it was nice to know that it was there...just a little to late.
Ok, that's the story of the key.
On the way to the show Liz and I spent 6 hours singing in the van. Listened to a lot of Prince, and I did my kick ass sing-a-long to the soundtrack of Little Shop of Horrors.
Anyway, we're getting ready to head to Jersey City for night 6 of the tour. Things have been going really well...I'm done typing now. Bye.
Monday, March 01, 2004
So, I’m at home in Chicago, I hop a plane to New York. I stay there for a few days with a friend. Sounds fairly normal, and not quite worthy of writing about. And yet the events that followed slowly folded into a complicated paper oragami with three heads staring in four different directions.
I went to New York to pick up Bice, our drummer, who happens to live in Boston, to start our tour in Cleveland. Pick him up in what? Why New York if he lives in Boston? And why does a Chicago based band start a tour in Cleveland? Where the hell is the rest of the band, Lizzie and the Brother’s Lipman? These are some rather intricate questions, that I am proposing that you may be asking. I really don’t feel like answering them. So let’s see what comes out:
Dan-e is back in school in Detroit, Tuesday thru Thursday. Lizzie lives on the south side of Chicago, another world for north siders like me and Brad (Brad now lives ten steps away from me, right below my living room. Yet, I still talk to him more by cell phone and e-mail than face to face conversation. That’s rather odd.) Bice is in Boston, but he has informed me that he is embarking on a pilgrimage to California, so I’m sure our situation will get even more perplexing. The tour was put together fairly last minute. We didn’t know Dan-e’s school schedule early enough to prepare. But Brad and I fumbled through a self booked tour that was being booked as we spoke on our cell phones feet from each other in the beginning and then one thousand miles apart a few days before the departure date.
I am helping to form a new Neo-Futurist theater company in Brooklyn, so I have been visiting this area periodically and am now planning on spending more time there in upcoming months, to finish my Weasel’s In A Box novel and to help promote the new Ensemble. So since I was looking for excuses to get out of Dodge (Chicago) and back to the OK Corral (NYC), I decided to find a way to pick up Bice for the upcoming tour wether in Boston or somwhere East. He could have flown out to Chicago, like he has done in the past, but we had a horrible episode last time wherein UPS lost his drums for a month and a half. Those drums went from Chicago, to Boston, down the street from his house before the tag fell off and the ups deliverer couldn’t figure out where the package was to go. I don’t know why they didn’t look on the floor of the truck for a lost tag, but they didn’t. So the drums went to a home office in St. Louis. Why St Louis? I have no fucking clue. Bice called a friend, who’s father is “high up” in the UPS corporation. They tracked down his drums after they had been shipped yet again to, get this, the manufacturer of the drum cases somewhere in Montana or Wyoming. They were tucked away on some high shelf just like the holy commandments in Raiders Of The Lost Arc. UPS picked them back up and finally shipped them to Boston. We decided to avoid another UPS fiasco.
Being the bright boy that I am, I told Bice to meet me in New York with his drums. I would drive out with the van, pick him up in NYC (He would get a ride there from his girlfriend Mauree, since they both enjoy visiting NYC anyway. They stay with a pair of friends in Brooklyn, let’s just call them DD and Abagail. there is no reason for secrecy I just can’t remember their names right now. They have an English Bulldog. Strange animal. Its astounding ugliness is sublimely cute.), and then we would drive back to Chicago just in time to load the equipment and the band mates and head out to Ohio. And of course I had my own sub reasons for wanting to go back to NYC, speaking of which I may be looking for a second home in Brooklyn or NYC, so if you know of any place to rent just let me know. My hope is to get a place that can match my already low rent of 500 in Chicago, so that I can manage a thousand a month. Wish me luck.
Bice thought this pick up plan was exciting in conception, yet somehow idiotic in its possible actualization. I agreed, and thought that that was enough justification to put the plan into action. Bice laughed at me, and then I laughed at him laughing at me. He then said, “why don’t we just leave on tour from New York instead of driving 12 hours back to Chicago?” It was a pretty good idea as long as we were both ok with the idea of Brad and Lizzie walking to Ohio from Chicago.
His hesitation was worthy of some more thought. It did seem somewhat stupid to tire ourselves out driving before the tour even started. So I elaborated and adjusted his idea to make it make sense in my head. I bought a one way plane ticket to NYC spent two days with my friend, met Bice and Mauree in a bar, stayed at the bulldog’s house for one night and then picked up a budget rent-a-car at Le Guardia Airport, loaded Bice’s drums from Maria’s car to the rental, and we took off for a 7 hour drive to Olmstead Ohio where we dropped off the car and met the rest of the band. Brad and Lizzie loaded the van and left Chicago at 10am and arrived in Olmstead Ohio 2 minutes before us. That was amazing timing, which we owe none of it to precise planning. Randomness was our saviour. Dan-e’s ride from Detroit to Olmstead Ohio fell through. So he called a taxi service. They quoted him at 300 bucks. Not a good idea. One of the band’s favorite friends, Shannon, received a phone call from the aforementioned Dan-e mere moments before he had to leave. Shannon was up for the adventure and agreed to drive him. We descended on Ohio and won a small battle.
And where was our next show, you ask? Why New York of course.
That’s if for now. Liz has just informed me that my food is getting cold. Which is actually kind of funny since I ordered a salad.
John Jughead
Even In Blackouts
I went to New York to pick up Bice, our drummer, who happens to live in Boston, to start our tour in Cleveland. Pick him up in what? Why New York if he lives in Boston? And why does a Chicago based band start a tour in Cleveland? Where the hell is the rest of the band, Lizzie and the Brother’s Lipman? These are some rather intricate questions, that I am proposing that you may be asking. I really don’t feel like answering them. So let’s see what comes out:
Dan-e is back in school in Detroit, Tuesday thru Thursday. Lizzie lives on the south side of Chicago, another world for north siders like me and Brad (Brad now lives ten steps away from me, right below my living room. Yet, I still talk to him more by cell phone and e-mail than face to face conversation. That’s rather odd.) Bice is in Boston, but he has informed me that he is embarking on a pilgrimage to California, so I’m sure our situation will get even more perplexing. The tour was put together fairly last minute. We didn’t know Dan-e’s school schedule early enough to prepare. But Brad and I fumbled through a self booked tour that was being booked as we spoke on our cell phones feet from each other in the beginning and then one thousand miles apart a few days before the departure date.
I am helping to form a new Neo-Futurist theater company in Brooklyn, so I have been visiting this area periodically and am now planning on spending more time there in upcoming months, to finish my Weasel’s In A Box novel and to help promote the new Ensemble. So since I was looking for excuses to get out of Dodge (Chicago) and back to the OK Corral (NYC), I decided to find a way to pick up Bice for the upcoming tour wether in Boston or somwhere East. He could have flown out to Chicago, like he has done in the past, but we had a horrible episode last time wherein UPS lost his drums for a month and a half. Those drums went from Chicago, to Boston, down the street from his house before the tag fell off and the ups deliverer couldn’t figure out where the package was to go. I don’t know why they didn’t look on the floor of the truck for a lost tag, but they didn’t. So the drums went to a home office in St. Louis. Why St Louis? I have no fucking clue. Bice called a friend, who’s father is “high up” in the UPS corporation. They tracked down his drums after they had been shipped yet again to, get this, the manufacturer of the drum cases somewhere in Montana or Wyoming. They were tucked away on some high shelf just like the holy commandments in Raiders Of The Lost Arc. UPS picked them back up and finally shipped them to Boston. We decided to avoid another UPS fiasco.
Being the bright boy that I am, I told Bice to meet me in New York with his drums. I would drive out with the van, pick him up in NYC (He would get a ride there from his girlfriend Mauree, since they both enjoy visiting NYC anyway. They stay with a pair of friends in Brooklyn, let’s just call them DD and Abagail. there is no reason for secrecy I just can’t remember their names right now. They have an English Bulldog. Strange animal. Its astounding ugliness is sublimely cute.), and then we would drive back to Chicago just in time to load the equipment and the band mates and head out to Ohio. And of course I had my own sub reasons for wanting to go back to NYC, speaking of which I may be looking for a second home in Brooklyn or NYC, so if you know of any place to rent just let me know. My hope is to get a place that can match my already low rent of 500 in Chicago, so that I can manage a thousand a month. Wish me luck.
Bice thought this pick up plan was exciting in conception, yet somehow idiotic in its possible actualization. I agreed, and thought that that was enough justification to put the plan into action. Bice laughed at me, and then I laughed at him laughing at me. He then said, “why don’t we just leave on tour from New York instead of driving 12 hours back to Chicago?” It was a pretty good idea as long as we were both ok with the idea of Brad and Lizzie walking to Ohio from Chicago.
His hesitation was worthy of some more thought. It did seem somewhat stupid to tire ourselves out driving before the tour even started. So I elaborated and adjusted his idea to make it make sense in my head. I bought a one way plane ticket to NYC spent two days with my friend, met Bice and Mauree in a bar, stayed at the bulldog’s house for one night and then picked up a budget rent-a-car at Le Guardia Airport, loaded Bice’s drums from Maria’s car to the rental, and we took off for a 7 hour drive to Olmstead Ohio where we dropped off the car and met the rest of the band. Brad and Lizzie loaded the van and left Chicago at 10am and arrived in Olmstead Ohio 2 minutes before us. That was amazing timing, which we owe none of it to precise planning. Randomness was our saviour. Dan-e’s ride from Detroit to Olmstead Ohio fell through. So he called a taxi service. They quoted him at 300 bucks. Not a good idea. One of the band’s favorite friends, Shannon, received a phone call from the aforementioned Dan-e mere moments before he had to leave. Shannon was up for the adventure and agreed to drive him. We descended on Ohio and won a small battle.
And where was our next show, you ask? Why New York of course.
That’s if for now. Liz has just informed me that my food is getting cold. Which is actually kind of funny since I ordered a salad.
John Jughead
Even In Blackouts
Saturday, February 28, 2004
Saturday, February 14, 2004
Hello, I have risen from inactive life of blogger with nothing on my mind but plenty of time and the late night cafeine high. There must be something to say, we haven't written since our last tour... I think it was the first day of our last tour. My God! Where is my muse? Some one stole our muse and replaced it with blank stares? 5 4 3 2 1
Why in the Hell can't we get our godamn new record out!! What is up with labels these days? You get nothing but good reviews, you come from a prior band that is constanly toted as being "legendary". You are told your new band is unique. You have a beautiful singer with a great voice. You tour ALL the fucking time. Do you have to do everything yourself? I have this pain right here... between my eyes. I am getting tired of hearing myself complain. My brain is on the verge of storming out of my head, slamming my eyelids on the way out and catching a taxi to the nearest train station. Oh sweet oblivion, how you toy with me so.
I think the major labels are too busy creating their own bands, and independents don't really exist anymore. (side note: You are not really independent if your small label is distributed by a company owned by a major corporation) The few that actually are independent can't get distributors to take their records, and on the off chance they do take them, they don't see any money for months if at all. Good people can only pull money out of their own back pockets while they are wearing pants. All my friends are running around pantless. Moving forward as if they have not come to the part of their dream where they realize they are in their underwear, and are ashamed and forced to hide. And all the other labels are either unknown to us, or are on the edge of bankruptcy and can only invest in "sure things". My life is spent avoiding the "sure thing." Some would say I have dug my own grave. So be it! It's a beautiful grave. I shall dance on it every night. I'm dancing now! I dare you to knock me off this grave!
Oh by the way, we leave on tour again soon. And you know what. I love it! I discovered a couple weeks ago when I was in New York that I can enjoy watching others but I can't warm up to performing Karaoke. Why do I need such a thing? Oh it's fun to sit in a small room on a Korean ave penthouse suite, with a tambourine and a large book with pages and pages of "hits" Greenday for fuck sake. How idiotic it would have been for me to sing Billie's songs. But I enjoyed watching my friends getting their moment to sing in a crowd. And yet I felt like I was missing something by having what they could only pretend to have in a small room in front of friends. Singing their hearts out. And no one cared if you were bad, "ya gotta sell it, man." It was fun. It was sad. The stage. When am I ever just going to be an audience? Never. So why not enjoy my stage? No reason. I love it! I want to play forever. So let's add instruments to my grave side, I bend down every once in awhile pausing from my dance to pick up a ukulele or a guitar. That's death for you, my friends. That is how I continuously end throughout infinity.
I'll see you soon.
John Jughead Pierson
Why in the Hell can't we get our godamn new record out!! What is up with labels these days? You get nothing but good reviews, you come from a prior band that is constanly toted as being "legendary". You are told your new band is unique. You have a beautiful singer with a great voice. You tour ALL the fucking time. Do you have to do everything yourself? I have this pain right here... between my eyes. I am getting tired of hearing myself complain. My brain is on the verge of storming out of my head, slamming my eyelids on the way out and catching a taxi to the nearest train station. Oh sweet oblivion, how you toy with me so.
I think the major labels are too busy creating their own bands, and independents don't really exist anymore. (side note: You are not really independent if your small label is distributed by a company owned by a major corporation) The few that actually are independent can't get distributors to take their records, and on the off chance they do take them, they don't see any money for months if at all. Good people can only pull money out of their own back pockets while they are wearing pants. All my friends are running around pantless. Moving forward as if they have not come to the part of their dream where they realize they are in their underwear, and are ashamed and forced to hide. And all the other labels are either unknown to us, or are on the edge of bankruptcy and can only invest in "sure things". My life is spent avoiding the "sure thing." Some would say I have dug my own grave. So be it! It's a beautiful grave. I shall dance on it every night. I'm dancing now! I dare you to knock me off this grave!
Oh by the way, we leave on tour again soon. And you know what. I love it! I discovered a couple weeks ago when I was in New York that I can enjoy watching others but I can't warm up to performing Karaoke. Why do I need such a thing? Oh it's fun to sit in a small room on a Korean ave penthouse suite, with a tambourine and a large book with pages and pages of "hits" Greenday for fuck sake. How idiotic it would have been for me to sing Billie's songs. But I enjoyed watching my friends getting their moment to sing in a crowd. And yet I felt like I was missing something by having what they could only pretend to have in a small room in front of friends. Singing their hearts out. And no one cared if you were bad, "ya gotta sell it, man." It was fun. It was sad. The stage. When am I ever just going to be an audience? Never. So why not enjoy my stage? No reason. I love it! I want to play forever. So let's add instruments to my grave side, I bend down every once in awhile pausing from my dance to pick up a ukulele or a guitar. That's death for you, my friends. That is how I continuously end throughout infinity.
I'll see you soon.
John Jughead Pierson
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