Turtle Pool

Peja and I rocked the turtle pool today.

Somehow I managed to get wetter than her.  

The pool is about 4' across and I put about 6" of water in it.  We don't actually fit in it, sitting, at the same time.  It's alright, Peja prefers to sit on the edge and just wet her feet -- my mother's genes, I guess.

But it works.

Not quite the same as a lake, but the same post-"swim" evaporation stuff keeps you cool for about an hour.

The neighbors behind us have a pretty deluxe aboveground pool. . .  The trick, is to remember in the off-season to befriend them, because it's really to obvious if you follow "what a lovely pussy-willow hedgerow" with "so, how's the water on this blisteringly hot day?"

I don't put a lot of links on this blog, but since I sometimes post comics, this is kind of appropriate, maybe. . .   Have you read Garfield minus Garfield?  I was a huge garfield fan when I was younger -- it's got that Archie Comic appeal, where the jokes never change, and when you're a kid and nothing makes sense, garfield would always be hungry.  And Garfield minus Garfield has the same familiarity to me now.

September is bringing some very large changes to my life, and it seems to be running at me while I'm dragging my feet towards it.

Speaking of which, someone's stirring upstairs.  She's going to love school.  Damn it.

Drop Shots

Peja is dancing to Janet Jackson.  I can't really figure out why we own that cd. . .  It's a mystery. . .

Working in the studio has continued to be really productive and generally good times.  I think there are at least foundations for about 5 songs, which is a good start.  I did a version of "Sunday Clothes" with a drum loop, some bass, and a bit of organ -- Sienna and Peja were here while I was working (generally they're out of the house), and Sienna got to learn the joy/pain of hearing stuff 100 times while recording.  "Jay, uh, I like the song, and it was fine for the first ten times, but after that. . ."  Thankfully, I got sick of doing overdubs before she came up and demanded that I stop -- another marriage-testing moment averted.

Studio work is such an asshole thing -- you need everyone else to be quiet while you are loud and repetitive and repetitive and loud and repetitive.

I played Tennis with my boss Tim after work on Monday.  It was a classic battle of skill versus hustle.  I'll kill myself to get to a drop shot, and then hit it back softly to the middle of the court, where my opponent lobs it over my head, and I'm racing back to the baseline to somehow hit it backwards over my head, again softly to the middle of the court. . .   But I got some good advice from Tim during the game, and even managed to go up a break in the 2nd set -- Tim got serious and pulled out a 6-4 set (6-3 in the first).  It was very good times, and the courts out in the township were new and perfect.  There was a huge outdoor public pool next door with three diving boards (one was a sweet 3 metre springboard), and next to that was a deluxe basketball set-up with about 8 nets and good pavement. . .  I love downtown, but we've got to play some catch-up on the facilities.

I'm thinking maybe a Fall E.P.  . . .  All I have to do is sell like 60 more Songs for my Seaweed Girl before then. . . .   Uh. . .

More Studio. . .

I should start taking some webcam pictures of the studio.

Peja has been wicked awesome about continuing to let me mess around with drum loops and bass lines. . .  And guitars. . .  And vocals. . .  And some hand-claps.  She's a good kid.

I've just been letting the monitors blare, so there's always music coming out of the studio -- and since I'm building from drum-loops, there's always a beat for her to groove to.

The bigger issue, of course, is that I still have a current album, and if one is to record a new one, it's birth signals the death of the previous.  There just isn't any way someone is going to buy two of my records at once.  It'll never happen.  Alright, maybe my Grandmas would, but I feel like even they would ask, "lovely dear, so which one is better?".  And I really think this next record will be quite different from the one before, which further complicates things.

I recorded 2 albums a year for the better part of my adult life -- I stopped with Seaweed Girl, because I wanted to focus on promoting it.  I spent a lot of time and a bit of money to have it be THE album that I would present to people.  THE album that you could buy at the show (Also available at ZAP records on Princess Street!).  THE album for the website.

I was late the guitar party.  I couldn't play an F until I was 16.  Even then it was a struggle.  I watch my little guitar students trying, and I want to say, "Ah, don't worry, in another 6 years it'll be easy. . .".  I've always played barely well enough to write songs, and then the studio would save me by letting me do 30,000 takes of everything.

This is getting scattered.

It's late.

I took a bath.  (Yes, mom, it happens).  My limbs are warm and lazy.  My brain's a little shy of blood. (Yes, Tara, even more than usual).

The point, I guess, is that I feel like my abilities are always changing, and the music I can make (if I'm lucky enough to receive it out of the ether) is changing too.  And I put out THE record over a year ago.  Which isn't that long.  I guess. . .

I hope you are well.

I'm playing tennis against my boss on Monday.  Get ready for the basketball blog (which is suppose to be about the band) to turn into a tennis blog (which is suppose to be about that band).

Studio

Peja and I have reached an agreement.

So long as she likes the songs I'm writing and recording, she'll let me work in the studio without burning the house down or driving the car to Montreal.

Now, you might wonder, what kind of music does this little person like?

Her favourite genre is something she calls "Dancey Dancey music".  This doesn't mean, like, techno, or even hip-hop / R&B, but rather anything with a good beat.  So, in honour of that, I've been playing drums until Peja starts dancing, and then lay down about 2-3 minutes of that beat, and then build the song from there.

It's the complete opposite of how I've written every other song in the Barn Flyz catalogue. Which is probably a good thing.  Or a disaster.

But I'm working in the studio, with a goal.

There was a moment when I was writing songs for what became Songs for my Seaweed Girl, after writing "Tryin' you on" that I decided I wanted to write a whole record of stuff based on what Sienna liked best in my music.  I'm hoping I've found that moment for the next record.

Tax

I walked up to the counter with the smallest and cheapest bottle we
could find. I believe it had a picture of an iceburg on it.

"seven dollars," the cashier said, while I was thumbing through the
change pocket of my wallet for change I apparently didn't need.

"So tax is included," I remarked to Sienna.

For the first time in her four years, Peja was spending the night with
someone other than me. And damned if I was doing that sober.

If you do the math, I believe it cost about $1.50 to get me drunk, and
about the same to put Sienna to sleep.

But the tax remark was actually a last ditch effort to look young. I
had wanted to get carded. But I guess I waited a few years too many
to make my first liquor store purchase.

If anyone wants a half-full half-mickey of cheap vodka, it's in my
freezer.

Review Supplemental. . .

Hey, here's my revised Weezer (red) tracklisting. . .

1. Trouble Maker

2. The Greatest Man That Ever Lived

3. Pork and Beans

4. Dreamin'

5. Thought I Knew (featuring Brian on vocals)

6. The Angel and the One

7. Miss Sweeney

8. Pig

9. The Spider

10. King (featuring Scott on Vocals)

I'd probably move those around a bit and maybe put The Angel and the One as the last track -- I think it's really killer in a Pinkerton kind of way.