martian molehills taste like slim jims
at least that's what mother hubbard told me
i met her in a sleepy town on prince edward island
we talked about johnny hobo and how we each wanted a camcorder
but she just wanted to sit in the sun and eat bee pollen
so we did that for a nice long weekend

and i don't wanna be allen ginsberg
or pat the bunny or mel torme
i never did like alice in wonderland
or the narnia books (ok that's a lie)
but i always thought kerouac had a cool last name
and i still do think that

and people may wonder from time to time
why whiskey gives em the best energy to write
and why feelin bad makes em feel so good
you'd have ask my ancestors about that one

and i can work retail like the best of em
but don't mistake me for no used car salesman
we only sell new cars here

and poison apples taste great for a few bites
and if that fedex package don't arrive soon
juliet's gonna kick the bucket
and i'll be a mop without anywhere to soak

pickin noses is like pickin professions
but i say the nose picks the finger.

new for 2008 - the iFloat.
diesel powered and at a poison apple store near you.

jesus thought different or differently too.

listen to wingnut dishwashers union.

"maybe you don't choose punk rock because punk rock chooses you"

well, maybe playing folk-punk chose me, as I'm touring with Brook Pridemore to Detroit and back this weekend. I miss touring and this one is short, but hopefully sweet. The smell of the minivan beckons....

I saw Pat The Bunny (AKA Johnny Hobo and AKA Wingnut Dishwasher's Union) play at Brattleboro Fest this weekend. I am no punk but I sure enjoyed it. I'm also not an advocate for every shitty three chord high school punk rock band, but I sure like hearing good songs from good songwriters singing the praises of those shitty bands. I do really like his song about how midwestern girls need Bikini Kill records.

I may never be a punk (that's choice too....) but I like reading about the punk music scene and listening to it. We're going to Ohio, where some of the great seminal punk bands came from. I usually hate Ohio and avoid it at all costs. But we gotta get to Brook's sister's Open House in Detroit (actually Waterford), and well, there's not a better way to get there. Plus we have shows along the way.

I got a new phone. My old one broke (the pound, 8, 9, 0 and menu buttons stopped working. otherwise it was fine.) I wanted an iPhone but since I'm on Verizon that can't happen without cancelling a contract, yadda yadda. So I got the LG env2, which is pretty awesome. I took this picture on it, of something that I can always laugh at when I'm at work. This is on a laptop keyboard spill protector thing....



SOMEBODY actually posed for that! And look at the burger. And her mouth. How awful is that?!?

Anyway....

I have mixed feelings about Barack Obama (by the way, no response about that agriculture shit I mentioned in my last blog). Somebody said the funniest joke about him would go something like this:

A young man goes to a farmer's house to ask the farmer's daughter on a date. He knocks on the door and Barack Obama answers. "I was looking for the farmer's daughter" says the young man. To which Obama replies, "The farmer died of exhaustion after having to work the farm all by himself. The market's were tumbling and his prices rose and he had to lay off all his farm hands. The farmer's daughter moved to the city hoping to restore her faith in America. I believe there's hope."

(that's it.)

I guess the point is if McCain seems lifeless, Obama seems sorta lofty. And that makes him a little unapproachable. I mean, he's got great verbal skills, he's smart, and I think he's the best choice we've got (Since Joe Biden's not running. Man, I like that guy.) But we like people who aren't perfect, who are obviously human. And we, America, liked that Bubba slept around, made jokes and supported him for being a regular guy... and we like to laugh about how Bush is an idiot, serious consequences for America aside. But why don't we like people to make fun of Obama? Because things are so fucked up, and he's our best hope for change? Because we admire his optimism? Because he's black and we don't wanna seem racist? Because he's such a historic character, sorta like JFK but sans accent and kingdom? People made ALL sorts of fun of JFK... look:



Of course, then he was assassinated and memorialized and untouchable and all. Is Obama already memorialized and untouchable? Hmmm.........

Just to try and tie this all together: That JFK cartoon was by Gerald Scarfe, of Pink Floyd Animation fame (and other way cool stuff.) He's British. Sometimes outsiders see America more clearly than we do ourselves. For example, that famous UK headline "How could 52 Million people be so dumb?" the day after Bush won re-election. Or, the fact that French gourmets are finally putting cheeseburgers on their menus. People are shy to order them, but they do in droves. It's scary that most people eat them with a knife and fork. No chance of dripping on your laptop that way!

The French Burger Revolution sounds so yummy. Read on.

I had fun writing today. Do you think I should start a straight-up blog page? Email me and let me know.

Today I'm working at my job, selling audio accessories to the great people of East Williamsburg. It's a nice and simple job, I like it well enough. It would be nice to sell some songs to some tv spots, or write a good song for a good well-known artist, and hopefully those things could happen sometime soon. That, or maybe the new album will get picked up. By at least one person :)

Last night was "I Heart You", a night Ben Krieger put together at Sidewalk. Ben seems to be doing a good job over there. The format for the show was simple enough: local artist gets onstage, sings one or two songs by other local artists. I sang a Major Matt Mason song and a Casey Holford songs. I was nervous but they went alright. In general the covers ranged from adequate to awesome. I thought Dan Fishback was good, also Jason Trachtenberg was hilariously funny, taking more time to set up than to actually sing. I love how honestly zany he is.

Ben Godwin covered my song "Big Brother" and did a good job. He also did Creaky Boards "Needles on the Brain" which I've heard him do before. Ben and his wife Dawn are moving to the UK to start their family, and I'm gonna miss them! He's having a big send-off show at Sidewalk friday night and Costello's playing at midnight. Should be fun, he's gonna sit in for the full set.

I covered Major Matt because I'm really digging his songs lately. There's something brutal to his songs, but also something where he doesn't take himself too seriously lyrically. In my search to write from a purely honest place, I really admire the writers who don't seem to fifth-draft their ideas. Not like it's always the first way it was written, but it doesn't seem overbaked. Brook Pridemore also has a great way of doing this. Being sort of non-judgmental but also not sugarcoating the truth.

I have a lot to say today but I'm going to try and make it sensical, instead of scattered which is how I'm feeling at the moment.

--Late last week I completed watching the first four seasons of Lost on internet TV. I wish I never started. It's great, but it became a compulsion and I've been really good about controlling my vices and addictions, I really didn't need one more. It's a really great show, and maybe when the 5th season comes out I'll watch it, but I am not going to do anymore watching of TV series over the internet. There are never-ending supplies of episodes of TV - good and bad. I pride myself on not owning a TV, but really, no one needs a TV anymore. Countless hours of reading, writing and thinking got sucked away by four long seasons about fake people in a fake situation. I'm very mad at myself for taking that much time with it. Even though at times it's very well written and put together. Other times, well, it's a soap opera and I hate that. The only way out was to finish it. So I did. And now, no more.

--I'm very concerned with the state of agriculture in America. The food supply should be the foremost issue to Americans - after all, we all have to eat. But abortion and gun control are a bigger deal to the media. The cost of Michelle Obama's dress from The View is a headline. Christie Brinkley's divorce news top CNN. How about someone talking about this:

CORN - most of the corn grown in america is inedible. It goes to cattle feed and corn syrup. It's genetically modified, which means companies actually patent the seeds and force out little farmers who can't afford the chemicals necessary to grow the plants (without the chemical Round-Up, Montsanto-patented corn or soybeans don't grow....)

POOR - Corn Syrup is in every cheap food product from chips to soda to ketchup to tv dinners. Most people on government subsidies support families on limited food budgets. So, cheap food, made by corporations, with cheap sugar alternatives (see, corn syrup), stock their pantries. It's cheaper to buy ketchup than it is to buy tomatoes. In a free country people get to make choices about what they eat. But sometimes those choices are not actually choices - people sometimes only eat what they can afford. I don't think everyone needs to eat organic or whole foods. But I think they should be available at a fair price!!!


OBESITY - I walk about Bushwick and I see lots and lots of chubby ten and twelve year olds. Now I know, "Dan, don't make fun of fat kids. It's not their fault." You're right. It's our fault. It's America's fault. Because more people are medically obese and more people are diabetic (with or without diagnosis) than ever before. And, in my neighborhood where people scrape their shins on the poverty line, it's EVERYWHERE. The woman at Rite-Aid buying three 12 packs of soda, in a push cart which she takes everywhere because SHE IS TOO HEAVY TO WALK WITHOUT IT.

I am embarrassed that in our country this is not addressed, due to the level of influence flexed by top companies and lobbyists for them. And this is where I got sort of annoyed, reading statistics today. So I wrote to my preferred presidential candidate asking what his plan was to make the food supply more affordable. I got this response:
--------
Hi Dan,
Your best bet for finding information on that issue will be to visit:

www. barackobama. com/issues/

We are continually updating the site, so if your question is not addressed now, check back soon for more details.

You may also submit your ideas directly to http://my. barackobama. com/page/s/mypolicy

Thanks for your interest in learning more.

Sincerely,
Emily @ Obama HQ
-------
Now, this is OK. But, I went to that /issues page and did a search for "Agriculture" - NO RESULTS FOUND. That means, in all twelve of Barack's issue categories, none of the descriptions even mention Agriculture.

ROME FELL BECAUSE OF FOOD SHORTAGES. The wealthy feasted while the poor killed eachother over bread.

OH, that could never happen here. I am not an alarmist but I am shocked that this is a hidden issue. I mean, everyone buys food!!!! I wrote back to Emily @ Obama HQ and told her about my concern not being mentioned within any policy . I wonder what she'll say. I'll let you know.

Moreover.....I was reading about how Karl Rove transformed Texas from a Democratic state to a Republican one, starting with the judges, then moving all the way up to George Bush as governor. He's a trickster. BUT he did one smart thing: He focuses every candidate on four issues. Not twelve. That's how Bush got elected to every office he's ever smeared. He had four issues where he had clear stances....well, that plus Rove takes the things that are the biggest positive qualities in an opponent and questions their truth and value (see, swift boats. or, whether the pow torture he endured made mccain unsuitable to be president....)

Maybe McCain will start talking about the fact that the price of a slice of pizza in New York averages a dollar more than it did a year ago. Gas prices, Bagels, Tomatoes. Air Conditioning. Hmm.

Reminds me of something else no one talks about.

What a roller coaster. Ready?

Today I am listening to all my Nina Simone. I bought an iPod Shuffle, even tho I can't afford it, because well, I found one really cheap and it's orange, which I have wanted for a long time. Change is good.

But, as Kimya Dawson just wrote about when her guitar got stolen, stuff is just stuff. We at the Tea Party have house rules, one is "don't fuck up our shit. As materialistic as it seems, we like our stuff and we like having parties and would have not to have either." I think this is acceptable since we are putting ourselves out and don't wanna be taken advantage of. Like the kid who peed all over our bathroom floor, or the kid who stole my organic blue corn chips. I got them back, though, the corn chips. In all fairness, he did ask if he could take them before he was told "no" and took them anyway. The peeing, well, I can't explain that. But we don't have indie rock nights anymore.

Anyway, stuff is stuff. Money is just money. Rachel and I often say we could have nothing and be happy. Of course we'd like a brownstone in Brooklyn. But if all we had was eachother we'd make it and still find stuff to goof off about. And song fodder. And Love.

Nina sings this song about how this woman needs Brown-Eyed men. Of course, it's not just their brown eyes she's talking about. At the end of the song, she talks about when Jackie Robinson hit a home run to win the game. How the brown-eyed man won the game. I think she was implying that white (maybe racist?) bookies weren't so hateful that day, when they made money of that home run. Or maybe that wasn't what she meant, but what occurred to me when she sang it. Will Obama hit a home run? She didn't ask that question either, but I think maybe she meant something like that, too.

Nina Simone also has some of the most bad-ass horn parts on some of her funkier songs. Check out her cover of "Ain't Got No (I Got Life)" from Hair. I want someday to cover this arrangement note-for-note.

But after Dr. King's death, Nina Simone got sort of fed up. "I'm not about to be Non-Violent, Honey!" she says in another recording. And laughs at how ironic that is! All the violence of that time changed her - she became quite resentful of America after that.

This weekend I went to the Old Songs Festival. As a child I went to this festival every year, the weekend that school ended for summer. When I was seven or eight I started working on Junior Crew. I went til I was sixteen and started doing summer theater. This year Rachel and I went back, ten years later, and worked on Main Stage crew.

My family is close to a folk singer named Ruth Pelham. She's not well known to most people, but the people who have seen her, well, I can only guess that they feel like they really know her. She's fascinatingly real onstage. And she talks to people like they're, well, people. And necessary. And important. Well, Ruth has known me since I was a child. When she saw me this weekend, even tho I look nothing like the last time we spoke, she knew who I was instantly. This woman travels the world helping raise money and awareness. She sings uncomplicated songs of insight. She made both Rachel and I cry this weekend. I strive in my new songs to be direct and honest - when I write a song, if some outside angel or demon tries to "make the song do something" or "make it sound clever" then I throw it away. I don't wanna try and be clever. Cleverness only works when it's real, when it happens because that's how it comes out. I have to write fast, not thinking too much.

Anything else sounds like Musical Theater and that's not bad, but as you may know, that's not me. That may be the me you've heard of but it's not me. Gotcha.

Learn about Ruth Pelham. Her program Music Mobile travels the world "to promote cooperation, empowerment, tolerance, civic responsibility, community pride, and self-esteem by developing and presenting innovative music and creative arts programs." It started with Ruth driving around the poor neighborhoods of Albany, New York. Visit musicmobile.org. This woman really does it. I get goosebumps just thinking of the stories she tells, and the verses she writes about real things that have happened to real people she has met or read about. Her songs are not confrontational and they're not flowery. They're direct and eloquently familiar. They don't waste their breath. They use it. They astonish me.

While we're at it, learn about Si Kahn too. Learn about Bill and Andy Spence, who've been at the helm of Old Songs since before they were Old. Google or Youtube "Chuck and Albert". Listen to Joe Jencks.

There's something I don't like about Old Songs. Just the name of the fest should tell you a little bit about why. I'm a songwriter. My favorite acts at this "traditional music and dance" fest are the original songwriters. And if you ask me what separates most of their music from mine or that of my acoustic guitar toting friends, the answer would be "not much."

But there's a distinguishing characteristic that these artists are "maintaining a tradition." Nonsense. Art isn't traditional - it's evolutionary. It HAS to be relevant. Milk spoils when you leave it out. And when most of the audience at this festival is over the age of 50, there's a boat that the organizers have missed. The program cover features young artists. The program itself is full of grey hairs. And ingenuity from Acadian or Indian backgrounds is OK, but ingenuity and musical evolution from America isn't. Appalachian holler songs and Childs Ballads are fine. But I worried about plugging in an acoustic guitar at the fest open mic for fear of alienating folkies. But when I sang, they were amazingly receptive. What, me worry? Well, I think my songs fit the folk tradition, just like they fit the antifolk tradition. It's just fucking music. It's not genres or us vs. them or old vs. new or any of that. It's about now.

Tradition at Sidewalk Cafe would dictate Lach remain, and if he leaves, the open mic still be called the Antihoot, that Antifolk be the predominant focus, that everyone put "The Lach Years" in a bottle on the shelf, ooh and ahh over them, and try hard, really hard, to make something that is "as good" or "follows in it's footsteps" or something.

I personally hope it's totally different. Not throw in a towel, but that it doesn't try to match too closely. Ben's a different booker. The Sidewalk and Antifolk worlds are constantly changing and disputing their own identity and members. The tradition is no tradition! All I can pray for is change. Because it is so necessary in America, it seems like we should want it everywhere. OR, when it comes, to welcome it with open arms.

But I hate change! Hate it! Well, I hated it until it became something which freed me. And now it's freeing Lach (let's hope!), it's freeing America and maybe even freeing the world.

That's lofty, isn't it. What was this blog about again? Oh right, Stuff is Stuff. Money is Money. Love is Love. Change is Change.

None of it's good or bad. It just is. Like a song's not traditional or modern, it's just a song. Like Lach's notion that time is irrelevant, or Rachel's lyric "All I know is just to be in this moment that I'm in."

Creaky Boards is playing my house on Friday. Gonna be good!

It sorta sucks to use people's names and events in songs. I know I was listening to Nina Simone in February 2006 because of a song lyric I wrote about her. And I still wish I could teach the whole world to be free. And because I haven't, and there's the song, I can say, wow Dan, you're not making any progress....or enough progress....

But trying to changing the world is like trying to write one hit song. Go Try It. Let me know how that goes.

Writing one good thought, expanding one mind, finding one truth, that's where I'm at right now. Listening to Ruth Pelham and Nina Simone.

Don't try and change the mind of the guy who is so frustrated that something is out of stock at one store, and he refuses to drive (note, DRIVE) his car half a mile to the other store, where we have said product. It's out of the way he says. Have a nice day, says I.

Don't try and change that guy. Shower him with kindness. He needs it. Much like you should hug the guy who is angry on the subway and you ask him what's wrong. He confronts you, you don't retaliate, he breaks down and tells you his mom is in the hospital in Florida and he just needs to see her. Then, hug that guy. He needs it.

I did hug that guy. Two weeks before I went upstate and Ruth Pelham sang a song about how we should hug people who are hurting. I didn't think about it. I just did it. I needed to. I knew it would help him. It changed him and me. I guess change works wonders.

George Carlin Died.

When I was seven or eight, we got a TV in our basement. And, much to my astonishment, my parents got the cable company to put a cable box down there. It wasn't one with a remote, well technically, it had one of those wired remotes with the slider on it, so in order to move from channel 2 (nickelodeon) to MTV (which I think was channel 24), you had to pass over little blips and bleeps from all the channels in between. It was pretty simple technology, but at least you didn't have to call the operator to switch channels...

Anyway...this leads to a tangent....

Our basement was always a strange place because it was loaded with books. It was where the nintendo was. It was where the pantry was. And, it was further away from the bedrooms than any place else in the house....There were so many books on so many subjects, sort of freely arranged. From Fly-Fishing to Philosophy of Education to The Fountainhead to Dune books to The Anthology of Childs Ballads and the Sixteen Magazine my cousin was in. Ten or Fifteen Bookshelves worth of Topical Medley. When I had a Halloween birthday party as a teenager my friend Mary Cooley came up to me wide-eyed and said, "What do your parents DO?"


There was the tangent....

So I used to, on occasion, sneak to the basement in the middle of the night, and being the curious old man I was at ten or eleven, I would watch Cinemax. I don't know why my parents got premium channels on both the living room and basement TV's, it was probably because if they put HBO and Cinemas on one TV, they might as well get it for both TV's at a small increase in price. A couple years later they got rid of Cinemax and HBO in the basement, then a few years later we ditched the basement TV entirely.

With parents being well out of earshot during these late night basement adventures, of course I would check HBO and Cinemax first to see if there was anything there that I wouldn't be allowed to watch during the day. Or, that only played late at night...

And sometimes it was unspeakable "lovers against all the odds" sort of sexy movies that I still think are gross, and sometimes it was high concept stuff I think I've blacked out. Or, maybe some of it was so unrelatable that I got bored and watched a Cosby rerun.

And then it was George Carlin doing "7 Words You Can Never Say On Television". This list might also have been called, for the first twenty years of my life, "7 Words You Should Never Use In Front Of Your Mother." I watched it engrossed. I watched this guy Carlin, in these AWESOME green pants, rasp his way through verbal acrobatics that most people wouldn't even dare. He was addled, I now know on cocaine, but back then I just noticed him pacing back and forth like a maniac. He was fascinating and a little scary, like if Grandpop Popeye caught you alone on the ship. But he was smart, and I knew that then. I knew he was telling people how ironic or fucked up things were and they were laughing, not because they didn't know, but because they knew too well, just no one had said it like that before. He also had this softer side which could really creep up on ya, because he didn't just mean the spouting angry philosophical stuff, but he also clearly meant the how-beautiful-are-we sorts of things he said sometimes.

Lots of comedians say things that are funny....George Carlin SOUNDED funny. In an interview I heard years later he described how important word choice is to him. You say it one way, it's a funny thought, but no one laughs. You say it another way, it's a funny thought and the words sound funny together, and people laugh. You say the same thing, two different ways, and get two very different reactions. Carlin's philosophy on this has influenced my songwriting considerably.

My friend Major Matt just reposted a YouTube video of Carlin, talking about how the American Government wants us DUMB. They don't want an educated populace. So, we can't expect one just by taking their word that they care about education and truth and all that.

I always wondered how that guy stayed alive so long. He always looked like he was about to have a heart attack. Well, while I wish he had been able to comment a little more on John McCain, maybe it's best for the next generation of word choosers to pick the most appropriate words for what's going on here....however inappropriate they have been in the past.

Speak Truth to Power..

Dan

"Breakup Song For Brook Pridemore To Sing"

This is the title of a new song that I wrote and we recorded all on Saturday Morning as part of the Costello Album Sessions. The working title of the album is "The Happy Machine".

See, what had happened was.....

I have had this song in my head for over a year (admittedly, since Brook broke up with his then girlfriend. Which, by the way, is none of my business and it is pretty weird to write a song about a friend's personal life. Especially, when you know that friend is gonna sing it. In front of your friends, or his friends or both. What a strange thing). And what I didn't know was that it was my attempt to write a Stephin Merritt song. If you don't know, The Magnetic Fields are a significant influence on the new band and the new album. And while trying to write this song, I was trying to pair these Cole Porter-y lyrics with these real ironic pop sensibilities, and it wasn't working out right.

Then, right before my train adventure in January, Brook Pridemore gave me two books from the "33 1/3" series, which is basically a series of pocket sized books, each one is a biography of an album. He gave me "Pet Sounds" and "69 Love Songs". I took both on the road, but then, I forgot my ipod in Brooklyn so I didn't have the albums to listen to. I know "Pet Sounds" up and down and back again, so I could read that book appreciably. But I hadn't ever listened to "69 Love Songs". So I perused the book, but I had such little context for it (except the songs "A Chicken With Its Head Cut Off", which my friend Daoud sings, and "Luckiest Guy On The Lower East Side", which the aforementioned Brook Pridemore sings), that it just seemed a mystery. I did however, get the impression that this Stephin Merritt guy has something special. It was also known to me that my dapper friend Peter Nevins knows Stephin and that's exciting because I like Peter an awful lot. He's so cool, that Peter Nevins.

So I came home on February 7 with a book full of new words and about 5000 miles on my boots.

And then, I heard "69 Love Songs" by the Magnetic Fields.

And that's all I listened to for almost a whole month. The words just got stuck, I could listen to it all day, on shuffle, or in order, or in backwards order, or in alphabetical order, or whatever. When I started hosting Bar4's open mic, the in-between-acts music would often be one of the sixty nine songs. There are only three tracks I cannot stand. And for someone to compose three cd's worth of love songs, to release them all at once, and for me to like 96% of them (and REALLY like probably 85% of them), is pretty freakin amazing.

Before I left town, Brook had planned to record a song called "Political Song for Mike Yanusch To Sing". This was a title riff on "Political Song For Michael Jackson to Sing" by the Minutemen. Mike Yanusch is Mikey Erg of The Ergs, I think (note to self-conscious blogger: check with Brook on this fact and last name spelling.) We recorded a lot of Brook's material in December, in the blur, I don't even know if that song is finished, recorded, or what.

So anyway, I found Stephin Merritt. He makes up words just like Cole Porter (see, "unboyfriendable"). He's gay, he writes operas, he has a sort of lousy (see, "excellent") singing voice, has a young new york city vibe about him, he's a brilliant songwriter. In terms of social reputation, he's old school, like a slightly less famous Truman Capote or something. But no less admirable. I don't know him, and I am not used to saying this, but I totally have a musical crush. I think a lot of people feel this way. Or at least I hope so.

Merritt also utilizes his bandmates' lead vocals in Magnetic Fields, which I think is pretty awesome. I knew Rachel would sing lead, but it wasn't enough. My only current regret about the song choice for the album is that Michael and Eric don't each get a song where they take the vocal spotlight.

I really wanted to finish this song, our band's "Luckiest Guy On The Lower East Side". But I kept tripping over a lyric that went, "So let's kill the baby and sever all her limbs", which was a lyric about a banana tree Rachel and I have, and what might have to happen to him if we ever split up. And it's also about Suze Rotolo having an abortion. And my producer Ben is expecting a child. And I'm a new uncle. The lyric, well, doesn't fit into the attitude of the rest of the album. Or, my feelings. I don't like the idea of killing babies lately.

(nor, did I ever.)

So, Saturday morning, when I wanted to finish this song, FINALLY, I just said to myself, "You Can Keep The Baby." And the song flew out in twenty caffeinated minutes.

Brook woke up, I showed him lyrics, he said, "This is pretty awesome" and I taught him the chords. Then, an hour later, he recorded it for the new Costello Album.

I can't wait for you to hear it.

I'm sitting in my bedroom during a twenty minute "no banging on things" break from recording the new album. I'm hot. We have all the fans running. All day, we've been cooped up at the Tea Party putting together some songs. I will not say how it's going. I will say that I cried tears of amazement yesterday and I am humbled by the work of my musical companions. Rachel's making food right now: vegan for the vegans, meat for the meaties, and raw for the rabbits. There are absolutely no words to express my level of joy right now. I am not hungry, for I am satisfied by the happy machine we are building.

But I thought, lack of words aside, that I would try and write something to let you in.

We're halfway done!!!

Dudes

And Dudettes

I AM SO EXCITED

This weekend Costello hunkers down and records an album.

Not to put too fine a point on it.

BUT

Holy Crap I Am Excited.

The Jazz EP was so extended and lonely in terms of process, this is so collaborative and intense!

Today I am listening to great albums by my friends. Playlist:

--All Young and Beautiful by Casey Holford

--Coke and Spiriters by Dream Bitches

--Together by Jason Trachtenberg

--Everything recorded by The Festival that I own

--All the Beat The Devil songs on Myspace

--Creaky Boards "Grey Seeds"

--Eric Wolfson's Light House EP (BUY THIS!!)

And, while he's not a friend, I wish he were, John Darnielle's (The Mountain Goats) "We Shall All Be Healed" is one remarkable album. So is Nilsson Schmilsson. I heard snippets of the new Weezer album yesterday and it sounded, well, like a Weezer album. I was pleased.

Heard Matt Singer at Bar 4 last night and he made my night better. So did seeing my beautiful friend Julia, who I never see! Apparently she's been going to Bar 4 for years. Who knew.

I think Obama should pick his own VP instead of picking Clinton to "unify the party". I mean, are all Democratic women, or all her moderates really gonna migrate to McCain as some kind of Hillary-Got-Snubbed Backlash? Are people really gonna do that? I doubt it. I hope Obama picks Joe Biden, because, looking back, I sorta wish Joe Biden had gotten some more attention. He really was the smartest of that whole bag of Democratic presidential nominees. Hillary should be a cabinet member. Obama's gonna assemble the most incredible team as we change this country and move forward (fuck yeah, we SHALL all be healed!!). She'll be on the cabinet, fo shizzle, but could you image if Tipper Gore had MORE influence as Second Lady? Like, if she was a former president?? None of us would have ever gotten to hear Public Enemy. Bill Clinton is acting really strange these days...I say keep Hillary in the cabinet like R Kelly's midget!!

Rachel got me a nice stainless steel thermos. Now I get caffeinated slowly, throughout the day....

WAY TO GO RACHEL!

I'm really happy that my roommate and bandmate Michael is playing the Downstairs Dustup tomorrow. I can't remember when he last played a full set! His songs, if you haven't heard, are tremendous. Epic, smart, beautiful. He's a dear friend who I call brother. I'm sure I'll tell you about the set, but you should see it for yourself so we can compare notes....

This morning I went to Union Square with Rachel, and we got some organic soil and some heirloom tomato plants that are good for indoor growing. On one hand, we are annoyed that there isn't a community garden out Stockholm Way. On the other we like doing this stuff and are really enjoying our banana tree (who is such a huge kid...) and having fresh basil and thyme and things.

Am I grossing you out? I am rather smiley about Miss Rachel and our happy ways.

Of course, when I need to eat and we can't decide where to walk or what to sup (since we have quite opposite eating habits) I turn grumpy and stop smiling. Sometimes we're on different pages and I sorta like that. I loathe the notion that some people can be happy all the time. I don't think they want enough, them go-luckies.....

But two nights ago at the Northeast Kingdom I was totally wowwed.. First, I am feeling very alert these days. Second, my friend Peter Nevins keeps putting these great Thursday Night socials on in my neighborhood, at this place off Jefferson. The Northeast Kingdom serves great food (pricey but good ingredients do cost money) and they have this whole Vermont Cabin motif. Someone said it's like this: You're in middle or high school. Your friend with the cool dad, you know the one? This is his basement where you can do things that you can't do in other basements of other friends (or your own.) Except of course, we're all post-college (or skipped it) and the Pratt Kids haven't found us yet (like they have Pete's Candy Store, which while on an adventure to hear lovely music, I had to suffer the hipster slings of).

And on a Thursday, I just can't stay home! There's this lovely place where LOTS of friends invariably show up. And I make new friends there. And even the people who I never know by name have friendly head nods and respectful mouths and ears.

And it's unamplified music. All night. So people really do have to listen, and if you're a talker, you might get the eyes which send you back upstairs, where the recorded music is usually in good taste and doesn't interfere as it wafts down the stairs with the conversations of filmakers above.

When we played The Downstairs Dustup we had a packed room. Who knows why. The energy is good enough that just on sheer vibe people walking down the street might sense a good time awaits them. Who knows why.

BUT HERE'S WHY I STARTED WRITING THIS BLOG IN THE FIRST PLACE - The Good Music This Thursday. Oh jeez, I've blathered so much, how concisely can I profess my satisfied mind?

Peter Nevins has this song that I think is called "I'm Late Again". Now, as host Peter plays a set each week, and thankfully, he's back at the beginning of the evening. Because his mistrelishness welcomes a crowd (and the unwitting ones can't shake his charm or the weirdness of actually seeing someone play a bazouki..."what's that thing he's playing?" they say. And their smart friend is so glad to know the answer, or they know not but listen in for somewhere in their mind they've heard it before and they didn't move to bushwick for to ignore their inquisitive minds.) This song, so rocking, so smart, could easily be a Stephen Merritt song. It could easily be a Harry Nilsson song. Being sure it was some smart cover song, I was so happy to find out it was Peter's. And he sang several other songs, one being "By The Light Of The Silvery Moon" which I sang in seventh grade in a musical revue....another being "Our Drunken Waltz" which I can't wait to figure outa piano arrangement for...when his set started, there were two or three people (shit, we weren't even there yet), and when he concluded, there were at least twenty-five. Awesome.

M Lamar - I used to work with him on his piano skills. I should have been taking notes on his lyrical ones. He uses circular phrases, ones that keep coming around through the songs, like many an art song. His counter-tenor is piercing and he commandingly defies a stranger's reflex to laugh at its weirdness. Someone came downstairs obviously expecting a woman, I think. Well, M Lamar is a gorgeous man. His hair, straight black and synthetic, was in front of his face almost the whole time. There is something poetic about that, since we see half the man, the goddess, and somewhere behind it lives the man offstage. Who is equally fascinating. In his song "White Pussy" he smacks his lips around. I dont' think he's trying to be gross. And I think if someone said that his songs are sensational, whatever they meant, I'd say they were right.

Hugo Clarence - This guy looks like a Jack in The Box. I think he sounds pretty great on his harmonica. I think it's pretty cool that a french guy writes songs in English. But when I ask, "Hugo, can you sing us a song in French?" he says, "I don't know any songs in French." WHAT? While I believe it, I also am confounded. Shit, even I know at least one song in French. "Freres Jacques?" says Debe Dalton. Hugo goes into a Woody Guthrie cover that was alright, especially the harmonica. Good going, man. Nice to see you again. I hope you find your home someday.

Sam James - or is it Sam Grossman? Who knows, who cares. Sam is one third of the Wowz and has played some serious Robbie Robertson style solos with them lately. On his own, he is a little less Iowa and a little more Lower East Side. Sam makes me wish I grew up in New York City. Partially because he seems bizarrely mature, partly because, well, he can write lyrics that I haven't got to yet. We asked for an encore (he only played about twenty minutes) and he rattled off this songs with the repeated lyric "a seagull flies over the east river to queens" and while that's the only line I remember in the song, I remember it because he came back to it after lengthy observations that I can only remember hearing, I can not literally recall. This sort of effect on me is frequent, but with this one I am humbled because I know I will be thinking for days about images that got under my skin, lost their worldly identity in the ether, and when I hear the words again sometime (for I must hear it again), I will be fascinated all over again. Play it again, Dude.

The Johns - are another third of the Wowz, one Johnny Dydo. When he played Bar Four's open mic on Tuesday, some people snickered at his crude bathroom lyrics. This crowd in Bushwick understood something more. Not that they are more crude or less Park Slopey, (tho maybe we are), but they understood something about Truth. Capital T Truth. Johnny doesn't write wistful songs about nothing, he writes wise songs about everything! And having heard two songs or so previously, this full set was captivating. Alarm Clocks, Girlfriends, Toilets, Mushrooms, and way more. Guest vocals expanded things, both tonally by Julie LaMendola and atonally by a smirky Sam James (or is it Grossman?). I envy Johnny's ability to put himself out there. I feel educated having watched his set.

I think I've had enough writing for one caffeine filled morning. Hope you don't mind if I wrap it up and say, "GO TO THE DUSTUP ON THURSDAYS!" Thanks to Peter and all the Northeast Kingdom people for making something this neighborhood definitely needs more of.

One snappy dresser after another.  Red Hook Bobos and Cute Kittens have me running like an early morning coffee cleanse.  And the whiskey shots have turned from sepia to algae green.  Mysterious characters from 1971 chase down my dreams and I also change my nephew's diapers.  I click and click and click.  After a while the digital strings start to sound real and that's pretty effing scary.  But scarce on the beautiful stage is a beautiful glow, a vibrancy that has faded since the banjo lady finished her set.

And U. Utah Phillips died on Friday.  He was 73.  I remember vividly watching him and my dad talking on the dirt road at the Old Songs Festival in Altamont, NY, one summer when I think I was ten and my brother Jim just graduated from high school.

I thought my Dad was the coolest guy ever for that.

In his later years, several congenital problems later, U. Utah still had his guffaw, his irony, his "make a living, not a killing" philosophy.  He also had an assistant, a guy who played the guitar, so Utah could just speak his mind.  No one remembers U. Utah Phillips songs.  At least no one my age.  Even those Ani-produced albums from the 90's, which seemingly aimed to bridge some gap between us and out parents, weren't all that memorable.  Not for me, at least.

Last night these three kids in Red Hook were trying really hard to be part of something.  And their effort sorta threw me out the door.  I love Roots Music (and I don't mean ?uestlove) and I am particularly inspired by people who play it well.  But there's this whack retro thing that happens with traditionalists.  Sure, parlor banjo is fine.  And reels can be stomped to.  But MUST they be stomped to?  Well, no.  The stomp is DERIVED from the music.  The stomp is a reaction.  Well, at least I think it should be.  There are some kids who bob their head to everything.  There are some people who stomp to every reel.  There are Debe Daltons and then there are utterly forgettable six string banjo players.   Ugh, I wish I could forget.

I came up loving all this folky music.  I sing along and harmonize and play it, too!  But people who want to preserve Roots Music must make it relevant.  And, to do that, all you have to do is this:  Play Good Songs Well.

Frank Hoier does.  Debe Dalton does.  Feral Foster does.  The New Familiars do.  John Houx sings "Que Sera, Sera" with more modern realism than Frank Sinatra ever dreamed of.  Maybe these kids with their heads stuck up their Appalachian asses should go see some new old music.  Then, with an old instrument, start playing new.  And see if they can make good enough music that they smile.  If the foot moves the song, it's just not as good as if the song moves the foot.  Sorry guys.

Among the trio was this awesome fiddle player..  Rachel had to be up early today, so we left Jalopy early.   I can't wait to spend a whole night there soon.  And someday maybe do an old-timey piano set.  Much respect and thanks to the Jalopy folks for having a really cool thing that I hope continues to grow and be both nostalgic and relevant.

Speaking of, I just got my piano tuned, in prep for the new album.  It cost a damn fortune!  But, like my wise brother Jim said, "There's nothing like a new pair of shoes..."

I think some old Roots guys said that, too.

I was thinking of all of this today, without consequence. Maybe this is just a blog for me, but maybe you’ll find it interesting. Certainly, if we’ve been out of touch and a you wanna catch up, here’s the six month wrapup.

August 1 2007: I moved into the Brooklyn Tea Party, a space designed and pretty much built by Rachel and I. Our roomates are Michael David and Brook Pridemore, together we make four-fifths of Costello, the band.

October 31, 2007: I turned 26 years old. Life was rather strangely creeping past, I was working as a temp on my birthday. At the place that is funding the condo-ization of the Domino Sugar Factory. I quit there three weeks before my assignment was over - my temp agency severed our relationship and I felt an incredible sense of relief.

December 2007: Brook Pridemore and I were supposed to go on tour together in January. But this wasn’t gonna be a profitable venture, spiritually or fiscally. We canned it. But after all the temping, I had saved to tour. So /./././. how do I tour without a tour?

Xmas 2007: Rachel and I host our entire families in Brooklyn for the holiday. Whoa.

January 3 2008: "Come Home", in all its obsessive DIY glory, is released on dancostellomusic.com.

January 5th 2008: I packed a backpack, bought a 30-day Amtrak rail pass and set out to see the country. I quit my night job of three years, working sound at Sidewalk Cafe. I resolved never to temp again. From here to there and back again: New York, Charlotte, New Orleans, Memphis, Chicago, San Francisco, Portland, Seattle, Vancouver, Seattle, Vancouver, Toronto, Albany, Philadelphia, New York.

February 7th, 2008: I am home. I apply for three jobs, and get them all. None of them involve being in a play, which is what I wanna do most. But I’m broke. Hmm, at least it’s not temping.

February 19, 2008: At the Sidewalk Cafe Antifolk Festival I play eight new songs that I wrote on my travels. Response is good.....

March 9 2008: My Dad’s Birthday. I think I did laundry that day. Or, helped fold it... Michael David and I write a new "rooftop song" that we just sorta make up and marvel at.

March 12, 2008: I play a song I wrote called "Big Brother", with my big brother Jim in the audience. I ask his reaction, and as I couldn’t face him to sing it, he says, "It was like Jim Morrison just sang it to me." The next show, I play "Tape Recorder" with the same back-to-the-crowd approach.

March 19, 2008: Saw the Broadway revival of "Sunday In The Park With George" and wept.

March 28, 2008: Creaky Boards takes an indefinite hiatus as a band. We play quite possibly our best show ever at Rubulad, a giant party in South South Williamsburg.

March 31, 2008: Finishing up some recordings for Brook Pridemore, looking for a play to be in, getting ready to record the Costello album in June. Looking for interational vacation spots. And a big break. Thinking about Kundera and the lightness of things. Hoping, eww, that I get a big tax return. I hate the goddam system and how it panders to my dependency on it. The status quo is the worst addiction ever. I wanna shake the snow globe, break it and fill it with spring.

November Update

First, shows coming up: November 29 at 11PM at Sidewalk Cafe, and December 7 at Brooklyn Tea Party. More details click on shows.

Second, the Jazz Album will be finished this weekend, complete, ready to go next week. It will be available as an inexpensive download right here on this website. And, for a few months, that's the only place you can get it.

Third, the January tour has turned into the solo "Dan Costello Finds Himself and America" tour, which is really me galavanting hobo-style through the country with a few shows in a few places. It's more like a soul-searching tour than a musical one, the plan is to write a new album on the road. I will definitely be going to Boulder and Seattle and Athens and New Orleans. The rest of the trip is going to be sporadic and quite whimsical. Yay, Amtrak!

Fourth, I am an uncle :)

I have quite a bit to give thanks for, not the least is your interest in my music. Happy days.

--Dan

The crisp air of fall always smells the same. Even in grimy New York, the fallen leaves return to the earth with a familiar scent. I wonder how people in California and New Orleans are doing, having lost much of what was familiar to them. Or how people in Myanmar feel about the things that are familiar in their lives. I've been thinking a lot about the direction America is taking. I don't know what the solution is to our familiar government stagnancy. I was looking to Ron Paul for hope today, thinking that maybe if he was US President our politicians might get re-familiarized with their purpose as our representatives That if someone who is such a hard-nosed Constitutionalist was in charge, and everything had to be justified, people might actually be forced to say smart things and deal with real issues. That if guns were legal, then maybe less people would do sneaky things. I think that sounds just about as realistic as it sounds ridiculous.

The Congress, with all their new and much-hyped Democratic control, are wasting time and losing my confidence. Bipartisanship is not happening, divisiveness isn't getting anything done. But Ron Paul opposes abortion. But if our borders were protected and our foreign debt and dependence were less devastating, maybe then we might get back to having a strong domestic market and feel more empowered by our representatives. And we could actually have a public debate that was about an ISSUE, not about slander or sex or involving playground name-calling. Why are we at silent odds with our government so much of the time? I think it's some disconnect we feel from the voting booth (if we vote) to holding our reps accountable once they take office. Is it just me, or do protests seems passe? Everyone's Anti Something. Ron Paul is pro-Constitution, and being that most every country in the world looks to our defining doctrines as a shining example of democratic ideals, that might be the best thing we can hope for. Everyone else "wouldn't support this or that" but Ron Paul is FOR the Constitution. He makes this amazing point about permits, saying something like 'the freedom of the press relies on the freedom to OWN a press." I like this point he makes. Simple sounding, logical, refreshing. It sounds like something a leader says to regular folks like me, when they want me to feel smart. Not ignored. Not too busy 'doing government things you wouldn't understand, citizen...'

Our current government is happy to support dissidents in Cuba and Myanmar. The overthrow and undermining of those governments is something we advocate. Fascinating. There's something familiar about social action in America, something that I can smell like the leaves, something that involves going back to school, like in the fall when we geared up to learn, often with dragged feet, getting ready to learn again after a long, lazy summer.

PS - The Jazz Album should be done and on sale by November 15.

read up: Ron Paul's site