Wednesday

Sheldon, a friend of mine from Brooklyn asked me if I’d be interested in writing music for some lyrics he wrote. The lyrics are about his wife who sadly died from covid last year. The lyrics of course are very intense and I wanted to do the best in his wife’s memory…so I wrote a song for the lyrics…and I’m going to sing the lyrics in the next few days. Song is called While I sleep. Evidently Sheldon had been working with some Nashville writers on the song…but he wasn’t satisfied with what they’d come up with. Of course I can only do my best…which I always do…obsessive perfectionist madman that I am…but there’s more to it…there is capturing the essence…channeling the ethereal…recovering the satellites. There is a heavy darkness in the song, but through it all there is a light that shines from behind the murk. A lot going on musically these days and I’ll also be making an announcement about a live stream show we’re doing later this month. It’s a pretty big development considering who’s hosting it. I’ve not really been too much on the live stream show band wagon but in this case it’s well worth it. Live shows will come back soon and we’ll rebook our Hollywood, OC, San Diego and Vegas dates as soon as we can. Also, looks like I’ll be heading to Austin for some shows with the Heidi project when things clear up…should be interesting. 

Sunday

Not sure what’s going on but the songs have been nearly writing themselves. Of course I’m writing them really, but there seems to be something else at work…some sort of extrasensory power…some divine telepathy delivered on cosmic rays and sonic waves. So I’ve been an all night chemist…late nights in the studio. I come out and the sun is already coming up. Doing some good work though…though theoretically complex, the compositions don’t try to be–they do so with a certain ease. It may be because I’ve been meditating on Burt Bacharach’s magical compositions lately…which are super high-level compositions that translate impeccably to the average listener who doesn’t know jack shit about music theory. Also have been meditating on the Carpenters…who also have sick compositions. Having studied at the conservatory since I was a child, I do recognize the theoretical side of it…theory without the magic is just theory…but theory with the magic is prolific–something truly magical and immortal. Probably most people listen to the Carpenters or Bacharach or songwriters like Billy Joel…Carly Simon…Paul Simon for that matter…and they hear those songs as just those famous song they grew up hearing on the radio–their fame and success somehow seems to eclipse the brilliance of some of their compositions…but if you dissect those compositions, you often find magical mind bending concepts that sort of defy theory. They’ve clearly learned the textbook…but have decided to throw the text book away…so they might color outside the lines. If you take God Only Knows for instance…I’ve been trying to make sense of that composition for I guess twenty years now and though I’ve learned it, studied it, meditated on it, even recorded in the same exact room at Eastwest where that song was conceived…it’s mystery still evades me…and the holy grail really is to write a song as beautiful and perfect and brilliant as God Only Knows. To me, my compositions are super valuable…for some reason and I guess I never realized how valuable to me they were until I was recently offered a publishing deal, which I thought was for the album I’m doing with my friend Heidi in Austin TX. The agreement however is for that, as well as my entire catalog of songs. That’s my life’s work and if I sign the agreement I’m essentially signing a percentage of ownership over to the publisher. This publisher has rolled with heavy weights like Bowie and I know that he’s got his shit dialed in, but regardless, the songs are like my children and that revelation has been an interesting development–so I’m doing a lot of thinking lately. It’s funny because with these songs I’m writing for the album with Heidi, which are intended to be published with this company as well…I’m now starting to feel super protective about these new compositions also…especially being that these new songs are coming together so magically. I don’t believe you can create amazing art for any reason other than the pursuit of the holy grail, which is artistic perfection. Somehow I don’t believe that Brian Wilson wrote Pet Sounds with monetary gain in mind…certainly it was the furthest thing from his head…he was pursuing the holy grail and he got it–and that’s forever. That’s what it means to me…to other ‘songwriters’ it’s about spotlight chasing and doing silly desperate shit on SM to keep current. Perhaps they live simpler lives.

Saturday

Anyway, this photo was taken a few weeks before the pandemic hit…and only after being at Beverly Center for twenty minutes…my girlfriend hung about four more bags on me by the time we left. Well, I got word today that Heidi’s music publisher in NYC is going to sign this album we’re working on. He heard the first three and flipped and so is drawing up an agreement. Wasn’t expecting a publisher so soon–before the album is even finished but I’m glad it came. About the album, we got three in the bag already. I guess we’re going to do something of a Fleetwood Mac thing where Heidi sings some and I sing some. In the past months I’ve written and recorded three songs for this album not including the co-writes I did with Heidi. I’ll sing the new songs and Heidi sent me another of hers to mess with. She called me on the phone from Austin today and we chatted about how there’s going to be a whole lot of magic on this album…and when it’s ready we’ll do some shows around Austin–once the plague dries up of course…and certainly some shows around Hollywood. I’ll keep doing my JTB thing as well…but this project will be something new and something a bit different. You’ll know what I mean when you hear the songs. I wrote a song called ‘Venice’ three nights ago and it was instantaneous…as if God handed it to me…it nearly wrote itself…and those are usually the best.

Wednesday

Hanging at my fave coffee shop…House of Pies on Vermont and Franklin.

Tuesday

I’d rather remember shit the way it was in the 90’s, when we were kings.  

Friday –  revised

A friend of mime recently contacted a clairvoyant to tell him why his kid keeps talking about a past life. The kid cites uncanny details about living in Boston in the 1980’s and in fact he’s never been to Boston. My friend told this clairvoyant a ton of very personal shit about family history and paid a lot of money but the clairvoyant wasn’t any use at all. He now feels like an idiot for believing in Jedi mind tricks. I told him, ‘Dude you should never have deeply personal conversations with anyone you’ve never met in the flesh.” Case in point. I’ll tell you a hilarious story if you’re willing to read.

A couple years ago I contacted a woman in NYC who seemed to specialize in dream interpretation–which means I guess that she interprets dreams. I mean, it should have registered as odd when one of her articles mentioned that she’d had something like 100 past lives of which she remembered mostly all through a channeling process. Anyway, I was having very intense reoccurring dreams–a few of which turned out to be precognitive at least that’s what it seemed like…when you dream about winding up in the boss’s office for calling building security a pack of pituitary case rent a cops and your boss is trying not to laugh as he reprimands you–and then it happens exactly like you’d dreamed it a month later–you kind of have to wonder.

I figured instead of reading a ton of literature on the subject, I’d consult with an expert. I’d glanced some of her articles…though they were heavy on the misandry; her article about dream interpretation seemed sensible to a degree. She spoke of having dreams that would in essence transpire in waking reality. When our conversations began I had a lot of questions about my dreams and wound up telling my dreams to this virtual stranger who I assumed had some expertise. Evidently she’d read a lot on the subject–I didn’t want to read everything on the subject…I felt it was a smarter idea to reference her studies…sort of like cheating on an exam.

I asked her about her experiences with dreams…what it might mean if they are precognitive…is it just a coincidence? Was Einstein right about time being a fabric and the past, present and future all exist simultaneously and it is we who move through this fabric? Did Joe Pesci grow his eyebrows out in JFK or where those eyebrow extension? There were many questions I had for her. She was pretty open about what I asked her…she told me a bit about her life…and she somehow peppered incidental details with declarations of psychological trauma…it seemed to me that she’d had a traumatic childhood…join the club I thought…in any case the damage had carried into college and essentially into her relationships one of which she’d left because of a disagreement over her being polyamorous.

I’d heard the term before and in fact had had a run in with a poly before…I’d broken it off with a promiscuous woman who was on a cocktail of pharmaceuticals years before because she admitted to me that she was polyamorous–which to me is a fair disclaimer–after all, I don’t want to end up with a scorching case of herpagonasyphilaids. Also, I’m a one woman kind of guy…one at a time that is. I’ve subscribed mainly to serial monogamy…like most motherfuckers do. I guess polyamory is for certain people who are more ‘open minded’…I personally couldn’t do it–to me poly reads as follows: boy meets girl…boy falls for girl–girl leaves boy for a throuple. I find one partner is sometimes headache enough.

I’d never date a poly and I admitted this to the NYC dream interpreter. She became defensive for some reason…guess she thought I was knocking her lifestyle…or maybe she’d developed a searing crush on my swashbuckling ruggedness…I am pretty extraordinary and fascinating after all. I expected her defensiveness though because to me she seemed hypersensitive…she wrote about crying all the time. I’ve dated a few hypersensitive women in the past and they could be great at times…but mostly there was a lot of drama, which I find boring and I find it boring because some of the biggest wastes of my time were boring college era girlfriends who wanted to be Sylvia Plath but lacked her talent and her genuine insanity. One actually bit me on the shoulder once in a fit of psychotic rage–I laughed at her…it only made her more mad. Probably the most trying point of dating hypersensitive women is their vulnerability. Bluntness and brutal sincerity cuts them like jagged glass–rather they want dream world lies and Disney princes…which I am not.

In any case, my conversations with this NYC dream interpreter took on a new tone, in which she basically explained to me that men are harsh, cold, mean, aggressive, predatory and dumb. I was waiting for a punch line…some point we all aren’t already generally aware of–but none came. It seemed somehow, she lacked understanding of the most basis male behaviors and why they occurred. I think I actually implied that men are wired differently than women and these softly bearded sensitive ponytail men who do rieki and eat a lot of tofu and regularly weep in front of their women are wired the same as other guys–they just conceal it…they lie…in fact they’re worse because they’re deceiving…like fox’s in hen feathers. I assumed her fear of testosterone boiled down to daddy issues…that it had affected most aspects of her life…whether she recognized it or not.

The conversations about dream interpretation by that point went out the window. It seemed she was happier arguing with me. Shortly after we decided to agree to disagree about polyamory, she told me that people encounter several soul mates in a lifetime. I was under the impression that a soul mate happened once, or twice if you’re lucky but she said no–you meet them all the time. In fact, she’d encountered several in her many reincarnated lives and she told me a bit about her most recent. Evidently the guy had a girlfriend (and probably a soft beard and groomed ponytail) and so, she took it upon herself to cast a ‘spell’ on the guy’s girlfriend–a girl he probably loved and a girl who probably loved him back.

As it was explained to me, a week or so after the ‘spell’ was cast…the girlfriend miraculously disappeared–she had to leave NYC and go back to the state from which she’d originally come. Certainly it was due to far reaching and extenuating circumstances…the sort of shit that makes people get up and move all the time. And the dream interpreter told me she was happy about it…proud and nearly bragging that her spell had driven this lass back to her home state. Not one word of how the boyfriend felt about this. She said she sent that bitch packing. Strange words for a spiritual healer empath wouldn’t you say? Sounds a bit malicious if you ask me…not to mention absolutely fucking ridiculous. In any case, I don’t believe in black magic and voodoo done with chicken bones from KFC. Just never really believed in it. I learned my lesson when I was given a tarot reading by a Columbian gypsy girl I dated…all of her friends had told me she was psychic…an oracle…and so she gave me this ominous tarot reading and warned me of several vague omens…years later I ran into her and after some conversation I told her that none of her tarot prophecies had come true…she told me that she’d made it all up and shrugged…she said it was all charlatan party tricks. To me real magic is art, poetry, music, prose…talent. It’s making something beautiful and amazing out of thin air…if you can do that…I’m impressed. I would think that the actual belief in black magic is the real damaging factor…Just check out the issues they’ve had with that in other countries like Africa for instance. There are many articles on the subject. But drawing from personal experience I recall in college I had a friend who firmly believed a girl had put a love spell on her boyfriend. The spell caster had claimed to be a witch…and indeed, the boyfriend had fallen under her spell…but it was because the spell caster was extremely hot–not because of chicken bones or burned sage…she didn’t need a spell when she had a face like Selma Hayek and an ass like J-Lo.

It’s like that campy movie the love witch. I think the film would have been more believable had they cast some out of shape frumpy chick with a baggy face and a mashed potato gunt to play the love witch rather than the super sexy, impeccably vintage styled actress they cast. Why? Because a hot babe doesn’t need magic to steal someone’s man…especially if the man is a weak minded chicken fucker. The college witch who allegedly cast a love spell however, wasn’t super hot for long…the other girl, who was a kickboxer I knew from my evening kickboxing class…she picked a fight with that girl at a concert one night and beat the hell out of her…I wasn’t there and didn’t see it, but I heard it wasn’t pretty–she messed that witch up pretty good. To me it’s totally Freudian. The girl was prettier than my friend and so my friend messed up her face. The witch’s magic didn’t help her fend off a soccer kick to the face from a jealous girlfriend of course–but my point is that though my friend was an educated sensible young woman, my friend actually believed her boyfriend was under the power of a spell, rather than the power of a shapely rump–which is exactly what it was.

How do I know? We were all kind of under the spell of that magical rump…every guy noticed it and it was more powerful than any chicken bone tricks or burnt offerings. I mean did Amber Heard cast a spell on Edward Scissorhands when she stole him from his French wife? Amber Heard, though allegedly evil, cast no spell…she’s just remarkably hot…just ask that South African guy with the man tits…he’ll tell you. In spite of the reality though…my college kickboxer friend actually believed, no matter how asinine a concept, that this girl had put a spell on her boyfriend so he would fall in love with her. Personally I think my friend knew it was all just hocus pocus and was really just looking for a reason to kick the ever loving shit out of the sexy witch–it was classic Freud. Obviously it was clearly wrong for my friend to do what she did…everyone was very critical of what she did…particularly her boyfriend who wound up breaking up with her shortly after because of the situation…but she believed the witch was using magic on her man.

Point is my issue with the NYC dream interpreter saying that she cast a spell on the girlfriend of her ‘soul mate’ wasn’t about the spell itself or whether it worked or not…it just seemed malicious to me and kind of bizarre–I can’t make sense of a grown ass woman behaving like some scorned 9th grader who didn’t get her way. That’s what it looked like to me. So, in the end I figured it was best to get the fuck out of there…I basically wished her well, the NYC dream interpreter…I told her I hoped that she met a good solid stand up guy who would change her misandrist disposition. It’s hilarious actually…what started as a simple consultation about dream interpretation turned into such a bizarre thread of conversations and social complexity. Still, I emailed the dream guide in NYC a couple times afterward just to check up on her–it’s possible that I felt a bit bad about taking the piss…not surprisingly she was still pissed off though and I get it…perhaps she fell for the alleged bad boy…and I wound up criticizing her lifestyle. Oh well–water long under the bridge. But a relevant story I told my friend the other night…one which he got a real kick out of. I guess the moral of the story friends is that you should never involve yourself in deeply personal conversations with anyone you haven’t met in person–no matter how asinine and harmless the subject. Bottom line is some people take themselves way too seriously and you’re under no obligation to join them. Anyway, I never did figure out why sometimes I dream shit and it then transpires in real life. Guess I’m a fucking Jedi ninja.

Sunday

Blast from the fucking past. A friend sent me this very rare photo of a show I did with one of the bands I was in at the time. Can’t remember the exact year…early 90’s. It was the 90’s and it belonged to us–us Gen Xers were cool as fuck coming out of the gate.

Wednesday

In the end I found an amazing designer who is not only a total visionary, he is a wealth of pop and unpop culture and also he plays a mean Les Paul. He’s also a fellow Gen X’er guy who was cool as fuck about it…I told him what I was looking for and he listened to the tunes and the next day sent me over this cover and I loved it immediately…to me it’s perfect out here in the middle of infinity.

Monday

Franklin.

Sunday

So, my bro got me a bunch of 90’s movies I haven’t seen forever. Short Cuts is first on the list baby.

Saturday

I’ve been co-writing some songs with an old friend in Austin TX. She’s been sending me vocal tracks through dropbox and I’ve been building the songs from the ground up, playing the drums, bass, guitar, piano, organ, etc…I then painstakingly mix the songs in my studio…it’s a huge endeavor, but very worth it–there’s no other feeling like creating a great piece of art and immortalizing performances…capturing the space and time on record. It’s been spontaneous combustion. We’re really venerating the 90’s on this one. This one is called Rivers and Heidi is spitting the vocals like Sinead O’connor–she’s got a voice on her. Her music publisher in NYC says we hit a home run with this song so we’ll see what happens. Maybe you’ll hear it on Netflix one day soon. But that’s not why we’ve put so much work into producing this. The reality is that we’ve done this as another contribution to contemporary art.

Friday

I’ve been through thick and thin with my Schwinn…we rode a desert highway once a few years back out in the middle of nowhere…I’d been with some shaman, sweating it out…got high on cactus juice…encountered a major storm later while riding back to town…rode 7 miles in hail, lightening and cracking thunder that day. The winds were so heavy that debris was blowing across the highway…I suspected there was a tornado somewhere. There was nowhere to shelter down so I kept riding…the semi trucks were whizzing by and swerving all over the road…I saw some cars spun out in the ditch…or maybe they were just sheltering…it was a bit exhilarating I must admit. I wasn’t too worried–I had St. Christopher around my neck and some bad ass cardio working in my favor. We made it through and the very next day one of her tires went flat near Hollywood and Hillhurst…it was as if she held out on getting a flat in order to get us through that storm. Too fucking rad…my diligent Schwinn.

Thursday

The mission is what’s always mattered. What’s the mission? I’ll lay it out in layman’s terms; it’s about fighting against the shittiness…the fake art…the fake music…the fake novels…the fake and talentless artists who play the part and talk the talk, but don’t walk the walk…the bullshit fakery that’s ever so prevalent. It’s about living the art for real…method writing…enveloping yourself in a perfect atmosphere to create the extraordinary…something that went out in the 90’s. So many fakers out there now and they give real artists a bad name…they cheapen our objective and they muddy the waters. We know who you are and we look right through you–right through the hollow in your core. You know who you are too. 

Monday

I am pretty fascinating after all…not to mention talented, ruggedly handsome and coursing with warrior blood. Did I mention that I’m housebroken?

Thursday

Experiencing a supernatural flood of vitality I guess. After finishing the 9th and final episode of Tales from Truman Park, I started writing a new novel–something unlike anything else I’ve written. The new novel is written in third person–more traditionally styled. It’s an action adventure based in the tropics and written to read like a 90’s blockbuster. It’s flowing like rapids…first 15,000 words sort of just wrote themselves. I’ll post the first chapter soon, once I proof it…I really think y’all are going to love getting lost in this one…I know I have.

Wednesday

Ah, my favorite place in LA to hang out and play music. We did many shows at the Kibitz…the only mad house in town that serves alcohol. On any given night you’ll find some of the best, most well schooled musicians in Hollywood at the Kibitz–you never know who’s going to walk in. One night I wound up sitting at a booth with some people and there was Tom Waits sipping a drink under his fedora. Only in Hollywood. I recently spoke with the booker there and he’s excited to have us back this summer…I’ve also been chatting with some other promoters in LA and surrounding area about rebooking shows we lost last year. Time to rebuild.

Sunday

Monday

I’ve been busy napalming the jungles of contemporary prose. Just got back to civilization. Truman Park episode 8 is up now and it’s the most riotous, gargantuan installment yet. It jumps off the page like all writing should. I call it the Napalm Narrative. I know my artistic successes drive all my enemies mad…yet they keep showing up to see what I’m going to do next; envious chicken-fuckers. To real lovers of prose and fans of my work; I hope this new episode brings you some laughter and some true 1990’s insight. You’re in for a real treat. Cheers.

Tales from Truman Park – series

Thursday

Never Mind the Bullocks–here’s a bottle of exotic juice.

Sunday

Evenings with my USA Strat. 

Wednesday

I want to share this song with y’all. This is pretty much my most requested song at live shows. It’s a pretty little ditty about a woman I called Audrey. Since I wrote it friends of mine have asked me who it’s about. I’ve never really given an answer but recently I was asked by a few friends about the song and I told them the real story–so I figured I’d post it here as well…for all my other friends who have asked.

At the time I wrote Audrey I was hanging around at Cafe Audrey just off of Hollywood Blvd. They had a real nice upright piano in there…and I liked to go in and play it or hear someone play it. This woman used to come in and sit in the corner and sip tea and sketch in her sketch book. She had these really intense grey eyes…almost like the eyes of a wolf. To me she looked like Audrey Hepburn…and dressed like Audrey Horne with the skirts and knee high socks…and because she hung around at Cafe Audrey–I started calling her ‘Audrey’ though that wasn’t her name. Obviously I’m not going to say her name, but I’ll call her “K”.

One evening she told me she was originally from Ottawa, which surprised the hell out of me because her accent sounded more like something from the Carolinas. We chatted about Ottawa–a place I’d briefly lived in another life…she felt it was a strange coincidence that we’d met in LA though we’d lived only a few blocks from each other in Ottawa. One afternoon I met her at the La Brea Tar Pits and when I showed up, she was writing in a book…when I asked if she was writing poetry…she told me she was writing prose–that she was an aspiring writer. I told her I wrote prose in a memoir style…and this became a major curiosity of hers. She asked to borrow the manuscript so she could read it on the bus…I was hesitant but eventually gave in and printed a few chapters for her. She read it and called me insane. I never did figure out why. I heard that she left Los Angeles shortly after. Anyway, I wrote the song in an afternoon and the name Audrey kept sticking. I guess I kind of regretted writing a song about a chick who dismissed me as a crazy writer boy–but like I say–it’s a snapshot…where I was at the time and as far as I’m concerned, one of the best rock songs I’ve written to date. So, for anyone who’s asked me about the story behind Audrey–now you know…and guess so does “K” if she reads my blog. Ha. Enjoy it.

Sunday

It was nice to see this photo from better times; a great night with some badass homies playing the Mint in Hollywood. I really hope the Mint survives…we can’t afford to lose any more legendary venues because of this godam virus. We had a bunch of shows booked before the lockdown came–starting with an outdoor movie screening in Poinsettia Park in West Hollywood…some more around Silver Lake…Santa Barbara, San Diego, OC and even Vegas…all put on hold because of a medieval plague. Bummer. She may have gotten smashed up pretty bad…but LA will come back even stronger–she’s resilient.

Monday

Been hard at work on a new installment in the Truman Park series. The adventure continues. Stay tuned.

Monday

Already I’ve heard that the Satellite is done…the Satellite–one of LA’s most illustrious music venues…gone for good. I guess new venues will open and there will always be outdoor shows…but you can never really replace a venue like Satellite. I try to see it this way; before it was Satellite it was just another disco club…no live bands, just incidental DJ’s which it certainly won’t be remembered for…it was what came after that made it a legend…in the 90’s…when it became a hub for Silverlake indie bands. It’s a lot of history and ten new venues can’t really take the place of one old venue like Satellite. And though it was an actually famous venue–it kept a low profile. It wasn’t the type of place that had an in-house photographer running around snapping pics of posers with underarm sweat rings and ironic t-shirts behaving as if it was their very first night out on the town…it wasn’t trying to be a Value Village version of Studio 54. It was dimly lit, low key and hosted live bands all night–from open till close…and that’s what made it cool in the truest sense. It was a venue that really believed in supporting original live bands. Hoping we don’t lose too many more.

Friday

Wednesday

Tracked the vocals for Heartbreaker tonight. Very stoked with how smoothly it went. Usually when I’m in there I sing a number of takes and use the best lines from each take. For Heartbreaker though, I got set up, warmed up and was prepared for at least an hour and a half just to record the vocal and bgs. I recorded two practice runs as further warm up–you always record those just in case…and in this case, they were enough. From two warm-up takes I got the entire lead vocal line…took a couple more takes to get the backgrounds. Half an hour later I was mixing them into the song. Love when that happens.

Monday

Certainly I’ve been asked by some why my recordings don’t sound more digital–even though they are recorded digitally. It’s because I record digital and then painstakingly remove or add frequencies and filters to achieve a more analog texture. Why not just record analog? Well…though it’s warmer, analog is sort of a pain in the ass. I’ve devised dozens of presets though that can usually erase alot of the digital from a digital recording and add a bit of analog warmth. Middle of Infinity is going to be exactly that kind of album–a 1970’s soft focus sativa buzz. 

Saturday

I’ve got something real special for y’all this weekend. I’m talking about Tales from Truman Park episode 7. If you’ve been following this series, you’ll remember episode 6 was a barn burner. Jam packed with authentic 90’s nostalgia, episode 7 is all about the fallout and there are a few shocking developments.

Wednesday

Coming around the corner on this new album. Production on most of these songs has been pretty smooth. 

Friday

Monday

Read about how this album I recorded was almost never produced and the turn of events that made it possible. Details in video description. Really I listen to this album twenty years later and can’t believe how ambitious the project was and how far deep into the jungles of contemporary composition the odyssey took me. 

Thursday

Friday

I first saw Eleanor Coppola’s brilliant documentary Hearts of Darkness in the mid 90’s and have seen it several times since…I own the video tape. Brutally sincere, riotously funny and even a bit disturbing…but never pretentious; this doc illustrates the divine madness of artistic vision that used to exist in cinema–it’s an element that has become extinct in recent years. If you can find the entire film somewhere, I highly recommend seeing it at least once.

Wednesday

Not messing around…will be watching this tonight. I have this film on a drive, but there’s something about watching films on a moving reel with the trailers and all.

Monday

Just posted a **revised** version of Tales from Truman Park episode 6–original draft I posted wasn’t the completed one. Buckle in…it’s a barn burner.

Tales from Truman Park – series

Wednesday

Yo, check out the new music video for ‘Mary’.

Wednesday

What he meant to say was: Realizing we’re standing on the Strip next to the tragic spot where River Phoenix died. Grinning about a comment made about the dude with woman hair in the background. Smoking blunts like they’re going out of style…a wondrous madhouse Hollywood is and there’s no place I’d rather be.

Friday

Me in the 90’s…skater boy, showing off my new Sex Pistols shirt.

Monday

New song, “Never Wanted To”.

Monday

Silverlake freedom.

Wednesday

I spent a couple years writing a novel called Waiters. I was working on revisions with a mainstream literary agent who is from NYC…did that for 8 months. Here is the author’s cut–the raw cut and you’ll only find it here.

Waiters – a Novel

Wednesday

‘Before long I was back on the 10 heading east…I passed the 405 and instead looped through downtown and swung back up onto the 101 to get back into Hollywood—I needed some time to think…I needed some time to fit things back into rational perspective. I took the Vermont exit and followed it north until I was finally feeling a bit more level. Hollywood; she knew what I felt as she always had and I could feel her breeze through my window, soothing me as the darkened shop fronts went by on either side…at least I still had her, my beloved Hollywood—though she changed, she was always the same and she always knew just what to say to me.’

–excerpt from ‘Waiters’. Coming soon.

Sunday

Unbelievable…was looking through a box in storage and found this photo of me with my first guitar. I didn’t realize I had a photo of that guitar. I’m 12 in this picture, playing along to a Sex Pistols album in my mom’s basement. I was totally obsessed with the Pistols at that point…learned Never Mind the Bullocks on that guitar and started writing my own songs as well. I remember how nice that guitar felt…intonation was perfect…low action…so easy to play. No idea where that guitar is now. She was the first though, and very special.

Saturday

Traveling from Los Angeles to Vancouver to Seattle, Jarrod Tyler and crew investigate the endangered state of contemporary arts & culture in the digital age and showcase the many citizens who fight to keep arts & culture alive in their neighborhoods. This is my public service announcement contribution to the arts.

Wednesday

Check out the official video for Fallout Shelter.

Monday

Not sure about Spotify…I don’t even bother with a proper Spotify profile…still, here is my best of album…in case you don’t want to pay for it on iTunes. I’m not a used car salesman, or an art dealer or a real estate agent–I’m an artist.

Tuesday

Tuesday

Brentwood Country Mart

Tuesday

I’ve received a few emails about this show…assuming this is going to be rescheduled. I was waiting for the booking agent to get final word from the organizers and alas…I regret to inform that this show is going to be rescheduled.

It wasn’t just this show though…there were other shows  in the coming months we had booked in Santa Barbara, Long Beach, San Diego and one was lining up in Vegas before the world was infected by the virus that originate in China. Fuck…a…duck…

Tuesday

Echo Park

Sunday

Hello, hello…it’s good to be back, it’s good to be back.

Sunday

Getting off work on Melrose…what to do…too many options.

Friday

Saw this at the Satellite on a week night…these guys were pretty good…they looked like UCLA frat boys but then they started playing crazy punk rock–sort of reminded me of punk bands I used to go see in college…the singer pulled off his hoodie during the first song…he was wearing a Beyonce t-shirt…he jumped down into the crowd and started a mosh pit. He sang a song about growing up in Virginia and crashing his car and how the crash rattled his brain and made him crazy. I’d hoped they’d kick over their amps at the end, but I guess amps are expensive. They were selling shirts afterward for a buck. I assumed punk was dead…guess I was wrong.

Wednesday

Tuesday

Monday

One of my favorite things about LA is that you can wander into a live music venue on a Sunday or Monday at midnight and the place is packed for freaky indie bands.

Tuesday

Us lefties are forced to exist in a world that is largely designed for the right-handed majority who all seem to have drunk the same Kool-Aid. How can anyone blame us for being complete misfits?

Sunday

Great show last night in Encino…thanks to everyone at VCF for putting this one together and also my band of badasses who rocked out in the SoCal heat.

Thursday

Stoked.

Tuesday

Coolest high school ever; Jack Tripper and Jeff Spicoli went here…

Monday

I posted a montage from the Warner Park show yesterday.

Thursday

My good friend Rhys Moody passed away on Wednesday evening last week. I didn’t even find out about it until Tuesday night. I’m still a bit shocked. Rhys was an engineer at East West Studios in Hollywood and a damn fine producer. He co-produced three of my albums, “Fides Veritas Eruditio”, “Don’t Let It Go” and “Auburn” and really helped bring them to the next level. I learned so much about music production from Rhys…he had a way of passing on knowledge. Last year when I was in LA playing the club circuit, he rented a room in his house to me and so we were sort of like frat boy roommates for a number of months. Man, we had some great laughs and some epic bike rides around Burbank…lot’s of smoke breaks in between.

They held his celebration of life last night in Studio One at East West. Such a nice service, he’d have loved it; his friends and family in such a legendary room telling stories and playing music. Though it was sad, I’m glad I was there. He’ll be missed.

Saturday

Just got word that we’ll be playing an outdoor concert at Warner Center in Los Angeles July 21st and we’re totally stoked for this show.

Saturday

Rhys and me, touching up some of my songs in Studio 3 at East West Studios Hollywood. Studio 3–where Brian Wilson recorded Pet Sounds. Abbey Road studios is the only other studio in the world that carries that sort of history and you can feel it when you in there; the wood grain surfaces have absorbed spirits of legends past.

Wednesday

This is an interview I did last week with Nick at 101.7fm Civil Radio.

Thursday

People didn’t believe me when I said this was the last show I’d agree to play in Vancity. However, it most certainly was.

Monday

I was into the Replacements when most of you were probably still pissing in your diapers.

Monday

If you haven’t already, check out my most recent documentary. A must see if you’re a Twin Peaks fan.

Thursday

All you have to do to understand what’s gone on in Vancity is google search ‘live music venue closures in Vancouver’. It’s part of the reason why in the last year, the bulk of my shows have been in LA, or Seattle or Portland…by the way they don’t start bands at 7pm and have them off stage by 10pm in those other cities–all bands all night.

Monday

This is an interview I did with journalist Nick Pannu at Civil Radio. We talked about my new documentary “Road to Twin Peaks: A North Bend Story”.

Monday

Here’s a video of me and the boys tearing it up at the Silverlake Lounge in Los Angeles. The place has been one of my fave hang outs since I can remember. A great venue that is a true supporter of original live music.

Wednesday

Sunday

It felt real good to rock out for a couple thousand people on Kits Beach last night for the fireworks.

Wednesday

Sunday

Check out our new video for Audrey–it’s one of the songs we will be playing tonight at TR!P. If you’re looking for a great night of music, TR!P is the place. For my friends in Hollywood who said Santa Monica was too far to drive–uh, you’re pussies…and I guess I’ll see a few of you at the Kibitz later–I may be sitting in on the piano for a song or two with one of the bands. What did Jackie Wilson say?

Thursday

A friend of ours snapped a few pics of our show at the Kibitz Room. One for the books!

Wednesday

We are playing a set at TR!P Santa Monica this weekend–July 15th. Our last show at TR!P was a bit ill-fated…had to cancel on grounds of a bad cold.  Hard to sing when you sound like Al Pacino from Sea Of Love. If you’re driving in from Hollywood on the 10, it’s LEFT on Lincoln; had someone email me saying they tried to find TR!P and wound up in Brentwood. So, head south on Lincoln…or just do what everyone else does and use GPS?

Tuesday

Great show tonight at the Silverlake Lounge. Thanks again to T-Roy for having us…was a blast. Silverlake Lounge is another of those venues that has a history. Mostly you don’t really think of the history–then you realize; holy shit…that all went on here. Pages in time–snap shots. Tonight we played hard and sweat all over the stage–literally; took our place in those snap shots.

Monday

We are closing the evening with a set tonight at the Kibitz Room; a truly legendary venue. What can I say about the Kibitz? If Barbara Eden popped out of a bottle and told me I could pick five venues to play at; the Kibitz would be on that list, just under the Bronze in Sunnydale. The Kibitz is beyond illustrious, yet it’s got to be one of the most unpretentious, coolest bars in LA.

Anyway, we’re on at 11pm. If you miss it–catch us tomorrow night at the Silverlake Lounge–gotta love this town.

Sunday

To our LA friends; don’t miss us July 10th at the Silverlake Lounge – one of LA most legendary live music venues.

Saturday

Walking by Y-Que on Vermont today, I saw these two books on the shelf outside the store–was meant to be.

Friday

Yes, this is for realz.

Tuesday

We are looking forward to this Thursday at The State on Sunset. Thanks to our pal Kelly McGarry for including us on this bill.

Sunday

Great rehearsal at our usual jam space this afternoon. Yes, it may be ‘hood’…but the guy who runs the place is a real mensch and often gives us a nice deal. Today we even got a room with A/C; appreciate the simple things.

Thursday

Our latest single Audrey is selling like hotcakes on Apple Music/iTunes. Just when I thought nobody is buying music anymore.

https://itunes.apple.com/ca/album/audrey-single/1356634307

Saturday

A cool photo sent to me from a woman who’d been in the audience at our Mint show.

Friday

‘Listen, Jon, if I worried about what the people cared about I’d never write anything.’”

-Charles Bukowski, “Hollywood”

Tuesday

Another great night at the Echo. Man, Echo Park crowds are my kind of folks…they are die hard live music fans…a week night and they’re out in droves to see a four band bill and they stay until the end, grooving out to a band they’ve never even heard before. That’s what I call supporting your local live music scene. What’s more, there’s a serious 60’s 70’s vibe going on at the Echo these days…I can only hope this trend catches on and spreads to the rest of this vast continent…it’s an exciting thought. Gotta love this town.

Monday

Snapped this photo last night while walking back from a movie at El Capitan. Though I’ve walked by the Chinese Theater many times, I’ve never stopped and looked at the hand prints before…most are recent and whatever. However, this one struck me. Natalie Wood; one of the most beautiful and enigmatic ladies of cinema. Such nice writing too. What struck me was how tiny she was–tiny but mighty somehow. Who would have thought she’d pass away two decades later under mysterious circumstances. Tragic.

Sunday

‘The chest opens with a creak and from it Nancy produces a number of glasses bearing stained glass designs which catch the sunlight like a prism, casting a colorfast over the beige wall as she talks calmly, looking him in the eyes as she always has. The world is lost without her kind and that is why her kind is recreated time after time; someone has to maintain values. For this he feels an admiration creeping into his chest, where Nancy so easily fits.’

Wednesday

We’re gearing up to play a show at TRIP in Santa Monica on the 19th. They feature burlesque dancers once a week…and bands pretty much every other night. We’re going to rock the hell out of that place–beach style.

Tuesday

Man, did we ever have a great time last night at the Silverlake Lounge…Next stop TRIP in Santa Monica February 19th!

Thursday

Wednesday

Sunnydale – Class of 99′

Sunday

Busy week…aside from recording–played a set at the legendary Kibitz Room on Fairfax–one of my fave places to hang out…Jakob Dylan used jam there back in the day, before he wrote Bringing Down the Horse (produced by T-bone Burnett)–one of the best albums of the 90’s. Anyway, about piano singing, there is something about the way the voice and piano tones blend–the sound is like an instrument unto itself. Really enjoyed it. Also, started rehearsals at the Musician’s Institute on Hollywood Blvd. Amazing atmosphere to rehearse in.

Friday

Only in LA…

Thursday

Back in LA… Will be doing some writing and recording in the coming weeks and will post some updates. It’s amazing how bright it is here…especially after all the weeks and weeks of rain up north. By the way it’s my birthday December 31st…so a big shout out to my fellow Capricorn/Tigers–feliz cumpleanos.

Thursday

Thanks Substation…last night was a blast! Four bands, no noise regulations…gotta love Ballard.

Wednesday

Had a great time playing at Dante’s last night. Such a great sounding room–ideal for live music. See you again soon Portland!

Back wall of club

We’re not in the habit of traveling with a photographer…but a woman who was in the audience last night was nice enough to email me a couple snaps she took…