Tuesday Tuneage
Jesse Johnson - "Black in America"
1986

#BlackLivesMatter

Tuesday Tuneage
Dave Alvin - "Fourth of July"
1987

Best big days to spend home alone:

1. 4th of July - For decades, my parents had a cabin on a lake in northern Minnesota. It brought years of great memories, many friends, and was a wonderful place to get away to. But that annual American celebration, the Fourth of July? The absolute worst summer day to be on a lake in Minnesota. The lake is too crowded to waterski on or simply enjoy a boat ride. Everybody has company, so the beaches are loud, little kids are constantly screaming. And those rugrats? They're the same ones who start begging for the fireworks early in the evening. So while it doesn't get truly dark until close to ten o'clock, you're watching fireworks in barely-dusk while the mosquitoes are at their worst. The place to be on the Fourth is in the city, where things are beautifully quiet during the day. A couple of years ago was a classic night: I had a couple of neighbors on my block - one due west, one due south - firing off some pretty cool fireworks, so I opened up all the windows and shades, turned off the lights, and listened to Dave Alvin's "Fourth of July" with a cold one while I watched the show.

Tuesday Tuneage
Electric Angels - "Cars Crash"
1990

Wikipedia lies! Electric Angels are described as "a cross between The Replacements and Hanoi Rocks"*, but they lack the crunch of looks-good/sounds-okay Hanoi Rocks and never make it to the garage glory of the 'Mats. The guitars are solid and there are nice background harmonies but something is missing here. Maybe a top-notch hard rock producer like Ted Templeman or Tom Werman would have fared better than Tony Visconti, the sound on this album is like a flatter Bon Jovi.** Dunno how that trickster Chuck Eddy had this album rated as high as 32*** in his Stairway To Hell: The 500 Best Heavy Metal Albums in the Universe, he obviously heard things I did not.

And the lyrics. Oh Lord, THE LYRICS. I normally give lyrics secondary attention, but these ones are so bad that they scream for attention.

GROAN:
'Til death do us part
That's why I'm wearing black

GROAN (PT. 2):
You must be an actress
'Cause you sure know how to fake it

HEART OF GOLD FAILED GAMBIT (DON'T THEY ALL?)
My life is in the pawnshop
My soul is with you girl
'Cause a heart of gold is worth more
Than all the money in the world

THE "VOTE MCGOVERN" REALIZATION
We were going to change the world
But the world changed us!

MAKES BOB SEGER'S "HER STRUT" SOUND TENDER
She used to walk on water
Now she's walking like a whore

NOT SURE WHAT TO MAKE OF THIS ONE, BUT IT IS NOT GOOD
I wish I could burn her like firewood

As for "Cars Crash", it could be a Spinal Tap song. Except where the Tap would have been funny, Electric Angels play it straight.

Cars crash
Hearts get crushed

(and)

And you get crushed, I won't be your crush
Can't say I wish you were dead
Some things are better left unsaid

You know one big reason that cars crash? Drunk driving. And in "The Drinking Song", these guys shrug off drinking and driving, something The Replacements would have never done. (They didn't drive.) I don't encourage quitting, but it might have been best if Electric Angels had entered a twelve-step program and addressed the drinking which undoubtably fueled their misogyny.

*Citation needed!

**And at least Bon Jovi could approximate garage/chant/seventies glam in stuff like "Bad Medicine".

*** O.J. Simpson's number, ominously.

Tuesday Tuneage
The Doobie Brothers - "Black Water"
1974

Harpers Bizarre's cover of Simon and Garfunkel's "The 59th Street Bridge Song (Feelin' Groovy)" is one of those sixties songs like The 5th Dimension's "Up, Up And Away" and The Association's "Windy" that sounds to me like a children's song and hence I didn't like as a child.* These days such songs as these have a cute little subgenre name to match their cute little sounds: Sunshine Pop. Ugh. (File under "p" for "Precious".)

While I am unaware of a nonfunny video of Harpers Bizarre's hit that features Chevy Chase, the band is notable for one reason here we just recently became aware of here at Tuesday Tuneage: TED TEMPLEMAN WAS IN THE BAND. And it gets better…

Templeman would go on to produce The Doobie Brothers, turning their biker-friendly hard rock into solid-and-sometimes-great radio hits. Most noticeably on "Black Water", a gem that goes from pretty-tasty-to-genius with the a cappella stylings at the end. Templeman confesses to nicking this from Harpers Bizarre producer Lenny Waronker on their Groovy hit. Fine with me, I never get tired of this song and have fond memories of hearing in the back of a station wagon as a kid. And it gets EVEN better…

Ted Templeman used this same vocal trick on Van Halen's debut album. Just when "I'm The One" is racing along at 110 mph, it hits the brakes and stops for an a cappella break** that had to have blown the minds of every teenager in a Camaro or Nova in late-seventies mid-America the first time they heard it. Such a smooth move on Templeman's part: Even Michael McDonald approved.

*Because none of those annoying ditties could touch the original cast of Sesame Street and their smash hit "Rubber Duckie".

** Okay there is a little bit of percussion in it, but close enough.

Tuesday Tuneage
Faster Pussycat - "Babylon"
1987

It's easy to forget just how deeply the rap-metal of Run-DMC and The Beastie Boys of the mid-eighties held sway over other metal acts. Suddenly, thrashers Anthrax were wearing track outfits and goofy hats and were sampling Big Country, Metallica, Sam Kinison, and Iron Maiden in "I'm The Man". Faster Pussycat stepped away from their Aerosmith fixation for a moment and did their hip-hop homage "Babylon." (Or is it a spoof? Either way, it's kinda funny. Just kinda.) Desperate in trying to play catch-up with The Beasties' Licensed To Ill, it features the least-possible-sounding hip-hop drums, but does have noises that resemble scratching (in the rap deejay sense, not the pussycat sense) and Run-DMC-nicked "shut up!"s. And while pretty much every LA hair metal band in the last half of the eighties wanted to be Aerosmith but invariably claimed to be influenced by The New York Dolls, at least on this one Faster Pussycat used the same song title as a Dolls tune. So while the metal bands' hip-hop efforts weren't as good as rap-metal pioneers/greatest hip-hop-group-ever Run-DMC, you sure can't fault 'em for trying. Hell, thirty years hence the twisted experiment seems commendable.

(Crap. The latest issue of Writer's Digest had an article on "Essential Elements of Personal Essays" by Peter Bricklebank and I wanted to incorporate the article's advice here, specifically this part: The essay can also simultaneously spin several narrative threads in parallel, or embody a list…" Here's part of the list I wanted to use had I gone that way instead:)

- I want to force this tune on all the dopey white people who would always say: "You can't spell 'crap' without 'rap'", but it dawned on me that they're all listening to country radio now anyway.

- The metal bands delving into hip-hop didn't come off like complete dopes like REM did when they tried hip-hop with "Radio Song" in '91.

- Something about how rap-metal is the music of the white and black underclasses merged. (THINK PIECE?)

- Something about the Judgement Night soundtrack. (Movie not available to stream on Amazon: Too threatening to The Man?)

- Thoughts on Faith No More, Kid Rock, and 24-7 Spyz. (Future essays??)

- Faster Pussycat would go on to brilliantly cover Carly Simon, but hey we needed grunge to save us from hair metal. There was a time there when I thought Z-Rock taught us we could have it all, but when you start getting pie-eyed over a syndicated AM metal radio station, maybe it is time to drop the pen, close the laptop, and SHUT UP.

Tuesday Tuneage
Nick Lowe - "Heart of the City"
1978

I don't aspire to much. I'm too lazy to explore this great city I live in and I don't like to travel. Go see a monument or a momentous place or read an article about said place? Magazine, or better yet: a short book (with illustrations!) Learn to skydive or Rollerblade? No thanks, I'll go for my 3.2 mile walk though, it takes almost exactly an hour, and burns over 300 calories. Take up a new craft, skill, or hobby? Nope, hockey is on TV tonight. (Though I recently got my over-ten-years-since-last-touched guitar a setup and new strings. Am I going to learn songs and maybe think about trying an open mike down the road? No, I just want something relaxing to do while watching hockey, and strumming some chords - I can't remember any complete songs any more - just seems to hit the spot.) So as I reside in my fifties, the idea of coming up with a Bucket List is something that drew a complete blank in my brain. (Not having much disposable income doesn't aid in attempting any gotta-do-this-befores anyway.) And hence, the more I thought about a Bucket List, the more I hated the idea. Then, a brainstorm struck. It was the best idea I had come up with since I decided to get rid of my car five years ago. I would come up with a Bucket List, but it would instead be things I never want to do. This would take no effort on my part and if I don't screw up by getting ambitious, I already have my Bucket List done.

BUCKET LIST ITEM: I NEVER WANT TO GO CAMPING.

Get away from it all? Abandon the city for a weekend? Get off the grid?? No, no, nope. I WANT to be connected, plugged-in, near my iPhone, iMac, and MacBook. I want my Amazon Fire box streaming Amazon Prime and Netflix. I want the Fire box streaming Chromecast so I can watch sports on NBC (have great difficulty getting KARE-11 on my rabbit ears, d'oh) and on YouTube watch the complete 2016 NCAA men's ice hockey title game so I can see the University of North Dakota win its eighth title all over (and over and over) again. I want the Fire box streaming PlayStation Vue so I have ESPN, TBS, TNT, ESPN2, USA, and NBCSN. I want HD radio, I want my 10-key, I want great lighting in my living room for reading the newspaper that was delivered to my (building's) front door. I want cold beer out the fridge, I want ice in the freezer for my Evan Williams and Brandy Old Fashioneds. Keep me connected, plugged-in, and with hot water. The call of the wild or call for pizza delivery? Easy call. Oh-so-easy.

Tuesday Tuneage
Run-DMC - "King of Rock"
1985


My Ten Nonessential Albums 

10. Wilco - Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. Dunno why anybody who had a legit shot of being their generation's John Fogerty would instead aspire to be another Brian Wilson/Alex Chilton crackup who writes crappy cute pop tunes.

9. Talking Heads - Little Creatures. The only good thing about these jokers was their rhythm section and you can get through a fun fun fun listen of Tom Tom Club's "Genius of Love" in under eight minutes.

8. Any REM album that isn't an anthology. Because they were a singles band, after all.

7. The Clash - Sandinista!. Weird fact: More people have walked on the moon than have actually listened to this complete album.

6. Journey - Escape. "To say that (Steve Perry is) a whiner does not do the man justice. Perry's a whiner's whiner, squealing away furiously in the implausible air that falls between rarified and denatured. If they ever create a cartoon character based on snot, Steve will no doubt be called upon to do the voice." - Rick Johnson 

5. Fleetwood Mac - Rumours. This annoyance fortunately generated a brilliant assassination plan and a great comic about said plan. (Also: It should be spelled "Rumors", dorks.)

4. Grease: The Original Soundtrack from the Motion Picture. Trying to disguise show tunes as rock 'n roll still leaves them as show tunes. (Substitute Jesus Christ Superstar's soundtrack here when it has its inevitable revival.)

3. Elvis Costello - Imperial Bedroom. More like Imperial Boredom. "Metal Mike" Saunders once called Elvis Costello a "can't-rock weenie", which is why I want to buy Metal Mike a beer or two someday.

2. Radiohead - Kid A. Fifty minutes in search of a melody.

1. The Beach Boys - Pet Sounds. In my world, The Beach Boys are a nasally annoyance. You know, just like any one of their rabid fans.

Tuesday Tuneage
The Rugbys - "You, I"
1969

This scrappy little regional hit that went big nationally upon re-release packs so much into three minutes. Starts out with fuzz guitar AND a smoker's cough*. (Predating Black Sabbath's "Sweet Leaf"!) BOOM: hard rock, scratchy guitar, sparse glorious production, blue-eyed-tinged vocals, proto-Uriah Heep "ahhhhh"s. Then it gets even more urgent, adds fast pulsating keyboards. The end approaches and before you get a chance to play it over (and over and over) again it slows down into wah-wah guitar and drum roll, like The Rugbys want to take a shot at being metal pioneers. As Wikipedia advises: Check out the 1969 Palm Beach Music Festival poster.

*Alas, not heard on any YouTube version I tracked. Trust me, it's very clear on Apple Music.

Tuesday Tuneage
Prince - "Kiss"
1986

I. PRINCE WAS A BUD MAN?

SuperAmerica Prince. Joel said that there was a guy that worked at the SuperAmerica near his house who looked a lot like Prince. It was eerie, he said. One night, we were at a bar near this SA and while giving Joel a ride home, I said I needed to stop at the SA to get a snack. Joel said he didn't need anything, but had to go into the store in case SuperAmerica Prince was working. And lo and behold, he was. And he looked A LOT like Prince. Eerie. A couple of years later, Joel and I were at The Country Bar and Joel elbowed me: "Hey, that's SuperAmerica Prince!" Sure enough, a couple of stools down there was SA Prince drinking a bottle of Bud. We said hi and "hey don't you work at the SA on East Lake?" though I think we kept the Prince stuff to ourselves.


II. EVERYBODY IN THE TWIN CITIES HAS A PRINCE STORY. THIS IS MINE.

In the summer of 1992, I was working at my accounting job on the third floor of the Young-Quinlan building in downtown Minneapolis. There was a video production studio on the second floor, and our office heard rumors that Prince was there at nights working on a video. I was working late one night - a usual occurrence during that stretch of that summer - and when it was finally time to head home, I was surprised when the elevator stopped on the second floor. Generally I was the only one in the building this time of the evening. Prince stepped into the elevator, followed by a rather large man. Prince was decked neck-to-boots in lavender, the large man wore a suit. Prince entered the elevator quite confidently, but when he sensed there was somebody else in the lift, he proceeded to back up against the opposite wall from me and stare at the ceiling. I could tell he was not interested in interacting, but I had to say something. THIS WAS PRINCE. In my full North Dakota accent, I said: "How's it goin'?" The large man, who had stood immediately in front of me, turned his head ever-so-slightly and politely said: "We're doing fine, thank you."

(Now over the years I have gone back and forth on this exchange. At times I've been miffed that Prince refused to talk to me. Then I have read about how shy he was, and maybe talking to some dope in a blazer and tie wasn't something he felt obliged to do. As time goes on, I just get a kick out of: "We're doing fine, thank you.")

So we got off on the first floor, and I proceeded to trail the two out of the elevator, down the hallway, and towards the front door. The Y-Q building had two sets of doors. When we got to the first doors, the large man went first, Prince followed him, and then Prince did subtly acknowledge my presence. If he had kept walking, that door would shut on me by the time I got to it. It was a big, heavy door. Prince paused and held the door just long enough so that I could catch it in stride. He never looked back, did just enough to provide me safe passage. He and his companion went through the second doors and into a waiting limousine. Me, I proceeded to tell people I ran into Prince. Some thought I was making this up as six months earlier Joel and I had run into Slash and Duff from Guns n' Roses at the Uptown Bar. (Duff shook our hands - he had leather gloves! Slash tried bargaining for Joel's flannel shirt.)


III. HOOKS, NOT WORDS, RULE MY EARS

I am bad with learning and recalling lyrics. In the case of Prince's "Kiss", for years I thought the line was:

Women, not guns, rule my world

I still hear it that way most times.


IV. SUMMER OF '84

Buying the Purple Rain soundtrack at age eighteen in that glorious musical summer of '84 was a gamble that went against my usual tastes, but even at that young age I could sense the restrictions of the classic hard rock I wrapped myself in. Suddenly, albums and songs by aging (many times British, sometimes dead) white guys with long hair weren't all that consumed me. Totally digging Purple Rain opened up the door for me digging new sounds by the likes of Run-DMC and oddly, metal that didn't get airplay (then, at least) like Metallica. Maybe if I had tried to convey how Prince's music did that for a stubborn white kid from North Dakota, he would have said "hi" on the elevator. Rest in peace, Prince. And thanks for the music and memories.

Tuesday Tuneage
The Kinks - "(Wish I Could Fly Like) Superman"
1979

Give me seventies hard rock Kinks: Cleaned up around the edges and ready for heartland FM radio stations, still quirky and witty enough to bring a smile or a smirk. "Destroyer", "Do It Again", "Low Budget" - these are grade-A songs you don’t have to be a member of some B-side-collecting cult to enjoy. I remember years ago when Mojo magazine was on a mission to declare “Waterloo Sunset” the Greatest Song Ever Recorded*, and all I could do was shrug. This was at a time that I had gotten bored with sixties Kinks and no matter how hard Jimmy Page riffed on “All Day and All of the Night”, I still couldn’t get behind their proto-metal like I could with The Yardbirds or The Who. Plus The Kinks always had that frilly thing going, so there was always going to be some stupid Totally English crap song like “Sunny Afternoon” lurking and threatening to put me in a foul mood. (All the Brit bands succumbed to this jolly old nonsense: The Stones had “Something Happened To Me Yesterday”, I couldn't make it through a listen of Cream's Disraeli Gears last year because of it, and The Beatles' “When I’m Sixty-Four” is absolutely horrible. It's like they tried so hard to be American, that the Englishness would just seep out and cause unforced errors.) One night last winter, I gave a Kinks deep cuts playlist on Apple Music a shot, and nope: Dainty ditties about (probably) tea and crumpets or maybe somebody's mum. Not being into the velvet suit Anglophile thing and fueled by a couple of Surlys, I almost went on Twitter to declare The Kinks as overrated as The Beach Boys.

But. But. I remembered that in The Sopranos, The Kinks' "Living on a Thin Line" was used effectively in an episode that showed how disposable the girls who danced at The Bada Bing! were. Instead of badmouthing The Kinks, I instead assembled a seventies Kinks playlist. It was made up of mostly hard rockers, a good chunk of which were from the Low Budget album. Apparently, going to the Arista label in '76 paid off as The Kinks in that period recorded catchy, wry and/or poignant tunes launched solidly towards the mainstream. Hell yeah.

As for “(I Wanna Fly Like) Superman”, it packs a disco beat (all the rage in this era for FM stalwarts - The Stones, Kiss, and Rod Stewart also had disco songs) and has a killer riff that hints at disco-metal. While Superman himself is a complete and utter bore (he can fly, is really really strong, doesn't sleep with Margot Kidder zzzzz)**, Ray Davies just sings that he wants to be able to fly like him, not be him. Earlier on the same album, Davies sings in the voice of Captain America. Oddly, there were no bellows from the “don’t mix DC and Marvel” crowd.

*The Greatest Song Ever Recorded (my opinion this week) is Michael Jackson's "Billie Jean."

**And Superman is not from this planet. Can he be trusted? Would President Trump bar Superman from the United States? DC: I will send this story over the transom if I don’t hear from you soon.

Tuesday Tuneage
Funkadelic - "March to the Witch's Castle"
1973

In an episode of The White Shadow when a player from a visiting Soviet team says to Carver High's Curtis Jackson: "We very much like your Elton John in the Soviet Union," Jackson responds with: "I'm into Funkadelic myself." (Soviet player: "Funkawhat?") The Carver team, as I have previously written, may have invented the "oops upside your head" chant used by The Gap Band. So if a band is namechecked by a member of the Carver squad in the midst of the hysteria surrounding a Cold War showdown, it's as good as gold in my book.

The sounds of Funkadelic need to be offered up to every dopey, KQ-embracing white guy who proclaims that he prefers "white music." It was classic rock playlists that blinded me to Funkadelic in the first place, so instead of hearing their genius on FM radio over the years, I was instead whitewashed with the likes of Asia, Eagles, Foreigner, Fleetwood Mac, Styx, Whitesnake, Journey, Mike and the Mechanics, Foghat, etc. etc. Classic rock/AOR playlists specifically excluded black artists, those were the orders from the top. The suits had no use for the guitar-driven, acid-influenced hard rock of the likes of Funkadelic.* White misfits like Black Sabbath and Lynyrd Skynyrd proved to be huge acts on classic rock radio, too bad the equally masterful Funkadelic wasn't allowed to share airtime with them. Because how much more fun would the Dazed and Confused soundtrack have been with the sounds of a band that absorbed every weird, great noise that The Jimi Hendrix Experience had, added the out-there factor of Sly and the Family Stone's There's a Riot Goin' On, took it, and ran?

With "March to the Witch’s Castle" - a Vietnam vets returning home tune that is akin to Sabbath's "Hand of Doom" - they got even weirder by throwing in a Uriah Heep influence. It's a slight better than "Mississippi Queen", right?

*Footnote for a story I just love to recall: In its early days MTV was segregated until CBS Records threatened to withhold all its artists' videos unless MTV aired Michael Jackson's "Billie Jean".

Tuesday Tuneage
Childbirth - "Siri, Open Tinder"
2015

PART I: I'M GOING NOWHERE FAST

Valentine's Day, ugh. My current self-deprecating jokes on my (lack of a) love life are "I haven't had a date since the Nixon administration" and "I'm never sure how many oxen I should offer to an intended bride's father." When I was younger, my Valentine's Day "celebration" involved Mickey D's or KFC scarfed down with some Schmidt or Premium in cans while listening to Metallica, then it um, evolved into replacing greasy fast food with even more righteous noise and drinks with a harder edge. A favorite memory is driving down Lake Street after scoring Motorhead's The Chase Is Better Than The Catch: The Singles A's And B's* and a bottle of Jagermeister and contemplating speeding up as I approached couples racing across the street hand-in-hand.** Last year VD Day (ha ha) fell on a Saturday and my playlist was rather glorious. This year I read a newspaper, a magazine, and a book for almost twelve hours straight. Didn't even tempt myself with a Brisk Iced Tea, keeping a clear head for more reading on Monday at the coffee shop. Maturity vs. no guts, lack of vision vs. a studious calm.

PART II: RADIO K, YESSIR

The radio in my office has five presets. Number four is Jack FM and number 5 is Radio K. When accounting work gets weary and I tire of sports talk, inevitably my digits go to hitting 4 or 5 on this radio. The Jack because it will play something fun or funny and Radio K because it will play something sweet out of the blue that I am unfamiliar with. And sheesh, Radio K scratched whatever mental itch I had on a day last week because I scrambled to Shazam the hell out of a catchy chorus-friendly song they were playing and found out it was Childbirth, a band out of Seattle, with "Siri, Open Tinder." Like The Replacements' "I Don't Know" it's driven by its call-and-response choruses; like that 'Mat's tune it is such a blast that the lyrics top the sundae rather than making it too precious. For instance:

shirtless (swipe left)
gym rat (swipe left)
dreadlocks (swipe left)
spaghetti straps (swipe left)
Siri, open Tinder

single dad (swipe left)
Seahawks (swipe left)
married couple (swipe right)
group shot (which one are you??)
Siri, open Tinder

PART III: PEACE WITH HONOR

Even a clueless, socially-avoiding oldster like me knows that with Tinder, swipe left means reject the suitor and swipe right means accept him or her. Not that I've actually used Tinder, I learned the whole swipe left/swipe right thing from a sports radio bit. I wasn't even curious about it but then a Tinder-using friend informed me and also said that you need a Facebook account to access it. Dohkay. Facebook? Tinder? These are cons to rope me into meeting and possibly spending time with people, which will distract me from my social media mission, which is to monitor Twitter for the best cheap shots. (And hopefully add my own, fortune favors the bold.)

So yes, I enjoy a song about an app I've never used more than I actually enjoy using any app to meet people/hook up (or whatever the kids call it these days)/face weeks of regret. Sounds about right. Nixon administration.

* Punctuation pet peeve: Apostrophes do NOT denote plural!

** Wait a sec: This was different from a typical night behind the wheel in Uptown how?

Tuesday Tuneage
The Dandy Warhols - "All The Money Or The Simple Life Honey"
2005

Years ago, a young man emailed me and asked if he could submit work to my zine, Exiled on Main Street. I told him it was a one-man publication, that I didn't accept submissions, but passed on some advice and encouragement in our subsequent exchange. I was soon flattered that he started a writing website and had Exiled listed in his links section and credited me with helping him get his start. In the spirit of that exchange and in light of me being twenty years into this writing adventure (the twentieth anniversary of my first zine issue was last Sunday), I offer these random thoughts on writing, for whoever may stumble upon them.

- I write down anything that inspires me or gets me thinking about something to write.

- I have a scratch pad or a notes app on my phone handy while working out. For me, only drinking coffee matches endorphins in helping provide a creative rush. I scratched many notes for an essay that was published in an anthology (more on this later) with a stubby little pencil on the back of those weightlifting cards they had at the YMCA. I wasn't even lifting weights at the time, it was just a handy piece of paper nearby.

- I have a thing for index cards. And months after I posted that, I dropped my two-year create-on-a-laptop habit and went back to my Mead notebooks. Kept the index card trick though.

- I like to write in a notebook. Specifically, a Mead five-star, two-subject, college-ruled notebook with pockets in the middle to store my index cards and random papers. Apologies to anybody who has given me a beautiful, tastefully designed writing notebook over the years: I gotta stick with the Mead, it's the right hand to my right hand. I write with a Pilot Easy Touch pen, black medium ink. I chose Pilot mostly because Rodney Dangerfield did ads for them decades ago and I usually have tried to buy their products ever since. I rarely create new work on my laptop because I associate a computer screen with accounting work. I like writing by hand, I can jot at the top of the page and work outside the lines on the page. Sure it's more time-consuming and I have to type up the stuff I'm gonna use later, but nothing can replace that flow of brain to fingers to pen to paper.

- During initial creation, I use loud music on headphones to blast away the distractions. "Inspirational" music - sounds that are deep, rich, profound, tasteful, etc. - don't help in clearing out the brain.

- I (almost always) love rewriting more than I love creating it in the first place.

- I read my work out loud, I find the best revisions and rewrites that way.

- I have a Henceforth File for drafts I haven't used yet, things to (maybe) work on later, poems I haven't figured out where to sneak into my blog, etc. It's kind of thick now and while most of its contents may never see the light of day, it serves as a reminder that work has been done.

- No matter how much others respect that I'm a writer or how much they enjoy reading my stuff, nobody gives a damn but me about how much time I put in or whether I show up at my writing desk. I long ago learned to tune out those who think my writing is a pursuit to be enjoyed around their schedules. Efforts to get me to blow off writing to join friends with words like: "You can do that later" and "You have the day off? Let's hang out" always failed, but I regret never responding to anyone who described my writing as a "hobby" with: "Yeah, kinda like how raising your kids is your hobby."

- The Loft often has classes and workshops that can help with craft, ideas, inspiration, creativity, the business side, etc. Plus Grumpy's is a block away for great burgers, beers, jukebox and working on that "lonely writer sitting in a bar thinking great ideas (or fading fast)" look.

- An oldie but goodie: When somebody says: "I could do what you do", they can't. They generally follow this up with hilarious moaning about lack of time, having a demanding day job, writing doesn't make any money, etc. I shrug, then weeks/months/years later snarkily reference them in my writing.

- Somebody needs to come up with a system for what to do when you come up with those great writing ideas in the shower. Waterproof voice memo machine, America's inventors?

- Here's how I got published in a book: In March of 2001 I wrote a wacky alternate history of Van Halen and popular music covering the years 1978-1984 and put it in my zine. It got some buzz here in Minneapolis and around the country in certain (rather small) circles. For months I received sporadic angry emails by folks who didn't get the premise. That was that, and I carried on with writing and publishing my zine. In the summer of 2003, I got an email from De Capo Press wondering if they could publish the Van Halen essay in their De Capo Best Music Writing 2003 anthology, to be edited by Matt Groening. That was it, that was how I got published. I don't know who suggested or nominated my essay for this honor, I don't know how the selections were made. My essay batted leadoff in the book and Elvis Costello, who I poked fun at in my piece, had the closing essay. I think I got $150 in payment. And no, I never heard from Matt Groening.

- So I've been slogging around in DIY-Land for twenty years because I don't like to network / am lazy / still don't know how to proceed with a "writing career" and don't know who to ask / and consider it better for my mental health and well-being if I write consistently and throw it out there via zine or blog rather than looking for publications or contests. Then there's what I told someone who once suggested I consider looking for a columnist gig: "Nobody cares about my latest trip to the liquor store." Plus I still find what I'm doing is fun. Probably the best writing advice I ever got was from a writer friend who told me: "Just try to impress yourself." Maybe the Big Ideas and Big Themes will come to me someday and I'll become one of those Zeitgeist Guys, but for now I just gotta keep the pen moving.

Tuesday Tuneage
Vanilla Fudge - "Do Ya Think I'm Sexy?"
2002

I only got clued into the fact that the great Vanilla Fudge has been again lurking around for the past decade-and-a-half because Little Steven's (always excellent) Underground Garage station on SiriusXM recently started playing their brilliant cover of "I'm A Believer" from 2012. So I started snooping around on this Fudge stuff and yes, they've been putting out albums (one is all Led Zep covers!) and have even maintained a pretty good ratio of band members being founders vs. ringers. The "I'm A Believer" cover is from Spirit of '67, which harkens back to the sound of the original Fudge album from (yes) 1967 - weird, heavy covers of pop songs.

This reformed Fudge's first release was The Return from 2002, which weirdly had them covering songs from their past (which makes them covers of their covers.) But it also had their takes on songs by 'N Sync and The Backstreet Boys, and if I knew any music by 'N Sync and The Backstreet Boys, I'd be a hell of a lot more excited about this. The album's ending track is a heady Fudge move: They run through "Do Ya Think I'm Sexy?", which drummer Carmine Appice co-wrote with Rod Stewart back in 1978. Considering the horridness of the original*, the Fudge must be applauded by turning it into a seven-plus minute disco-metal gem. It's just as dumb as the original, but for all the right reasons.

*"And after thinking about what's in there that does appeal to so many people and why, is when you wanna make plans to leave the human race." - Lester Bangs

Tuesday Tuneage
Kansas - "Carry On My Wayward Son"
1976

At a client on Friday they were playing a Spotify classic rock station. We heard most of the usual suspects and had a moment of serendipity: Creedence Clearwater Revival followed by The Hollies' Creedence ripoff/homage "Long Cool Woman In A Black Dress". But I was disappointed to not hear a couple of Midwestern AOR oldies-but-goodies:

1) Head East - "Never Been Any Reason"
2) Kansas - "Carry On My Wayward Son"

I mean if "Carry On My Wayward Son" came on, I was prepared to initiate a big rap session on whether it was about Jesus or Icarus. (Don't snicker, it woulda added some life to my time spent reconciling that PayPal account!) (Oh and hey PayPal: put on your big boy pants and add genuine MONTHLY STATEMENTS to your options. C'mon, be a true pal.) Also: Would an Icacus song infringe on Led Zeppelin's trademark?

I tracked The Best of Kansas last week, and can hear the peanut gallery already: "Hey Tuomala - That anthology shoulda been an EP! Just like Badfinger's shoulda been! 'Carry On My Wayward Son', 'Point Of Know Return', 'Dust In The Wind', and 'Hold On'. That's it!" I would have agreed just ten days ago, but for some reason suddenly I have a soft spot in my heart for Kansas, who I honestly had not given much thought to over the years. While I have not delved outside of The Best of Kansas, there is just enough there to keep me intrigued. For instance, "Song For America" proves that Kansas could be just as pretentious as the UK progressive bands they emulated*. You might want that one around just to show anybody who thinks eighties product "Fight Fire With Fire" is typical Kansas and you want to show what these guys were up to before airplay became the valued prize. (Surprised the drive for airplay took so long, considering these guys were on the Kirshner label. You'd think the man behind The Archies** would have urged them to shorten the songs, punch up the sound, and go for gold and platinum records.)

And if you're looking for an excuse - and I am, as I am currently tracking The Best of Kansas again with Tullamore Dew and it's getting to be a slog - to not look into any of the Kansas catalog proper, consider the groaner plays on the English language made with a couple of album titles: Point of Know Return and Leftoverture. Makes you wish the discography instead read Kansas, Kansas II, Kansas III, Kansas IV, etc. Wikipedia "research" shows that Kansas original member/guitarist/songwriter Kerry Livgren became a Godboy born again, started the Christian rock*** band AD, and they had an album titled Art of the State. You can guess who had been in charge of the Kansas album titles during their heyday. Some things a baptism just does not fix.

So I'm still playing The Best of Kansas on shuffle and I just forced iTunes to play "Carry On My Wayward Son", which I almost typed as "Carry On My Wayward Song". (Dammit Livgren!) All I can write before I sign off and blast this tune again on headphones is: If you're gonna listen to one vaguely Christian, leans-towards-progressive Midwestern band with chops, clean production, and a staid Geographic Rock name, it's gotta be Kansas right?

* Early in the next decade, Styx would release an allegory about America, Paradise Theater, upping the pretentious ante. And you thought the Midwest was just boogie bands and power pop.

** Just came up with a mid-seventies Archie comics storyline where Reggie steals Kansas's idea for a concept album and presents it to looking-for-a-change members of The Archies band. Andy Kim, meet Rick Wakeman …

*** "She comes home from church / She takes off her pants / That's what I like about Amy Grant" - The Young Fresh Fellows