For starters I'm moving to LA in 5 weeks.  It's going down.  I've lived in the city of Philadelphia since I was born.  And I love it and will always carry it in my heart.  But as an artist, man, and someone trying to take his life and game to the next level.  I gotta get the fuck out of here.  Many people ask "Why LA?! For someone with your work ethic and 'people are fucking clones' mentality. Why?"  Because in living in the United States you can make moves ANYWHERE.  But you have a better success rate to make moves where there are moves to be made.  The two top places are NYC and LA.  NYC to me is a larger version of where I'm already at.  Been going there for years, got people there.  It's not for me.  I'm trying to challenge myself and let my hunger carry me onto bigger and better things.  And I'm STARVING. I plan to return to Philly eventually. Either as a success in some sort or a failure.  But I hope to return on my own accord.

The last official project I worked on was The London Victory Club,  the original plan was that myself and Matty (the guitar player and sound guru) were going to move to LA and continue that forward.  Matt who has somethings going on here, fell in love and decided that he no longer wanted to move.  A lot of peeps have been asking me? What up with LVC? Are you guys going to continue?  The short answer is yes.  Me and Matt have talked about doing stuff via online, and trying to work out a way to keep doing live shows.  It's going to be hard, but no matter what, there is still going to be a London Victory Club.  Even if it requires a cosmetic change or some tweaking.

I know I'm always on here talking about my upcoming How To Survive A Robot Invasion.  The record that's been X amount of years in the making.  And I'm going to say it again, I'm still working on it.  Basically whatever solo demo shit I do I tend to put in that pile.  But now I'm working on a conscious effort to bring forth a demo/record to push.  In the meantime I'm cleaning up and re-mixing tracks for The Science (...of Style and Substance) my debut that recieved tons of love and attention to get picked up by some big indie labels. Back when people still crafted whole records, labels developed artist and you could sell a cd.  I plan on releasing it digitally via the digital deal I got with Foundation Media, and then trying to promote and ad the record.  So you'll pry hear that in the near future if all things go accordingly.

I've also concentrated efforts to place into development 3 novels.  One is about characters I used to write on here, the other a modern science fiction story I made up while watching Charm School, and the next a collection of short stories and poems that I also used to post on here.

I recently connected back with Cramske and we worked out our kinks.  I'm looking to do some Premium tracking, because Cram has always been down to ride, and all the bullshit aside I've made some of the best music of my life with dude.

So that's what I've been up to.  I'll be in the studio something fierce over these last couple weeks in Philly.  So I will be posting a ton of new shit on the net.  My social networking stops here though.  I don't do Twitter, Facebook, or any of that other shit.  Maybe when I get in promo swing and I have finished products I'll create pages for them (I do have a Facebook) but for right now I'm just trying to concentrate on real world stuff vs. internet coding.  

Meet me in the future, thanks for reading.

Later

k!

1. Playing Xbox 360 on my new 42" Plasma until 5 am (blame it on The Darkness, Fallout 3, Madden 09, and throw Street Fighter II HD in there as well)

2. Watching Star Blazers: Forever Yamato and falling asleep before the end of the opening song credits

3. Dreaming about lawnmowers and being watched anonymously

4. Waking up at 10:30 am

5. Realizing I was supposed to be at the studio at 10:00 am

6. Calling Matty on the phone and telling him I'll be there in 5 mins.  knowing goddamn well I'm still in my boxer drawls, am confused with sleep, haven't brushed my teeth yet, and will end up taking a lot longer than that

7. Getting dressed and actively thinking: "I probably shouldn't wear these [Vans boat shoes] today but whatever..."

8. Listening to Sports Talk Radio en-route to the studio and feeling nervous about the Philadelphia Eagles football (American, yo) play off game

9. Noting how cold it is outside and how could it will be inside the studio/big-wide-open-factory space and shivering

10. Calling Matty while standing outside, bitching to myself about how I want to sleep more

11. Pounds around, some light studio set-up work, expression and voila!

12. Getting right into songs from the EP me and Chuck on the art representation, Matty on the console

13. Happy it only took Chuck an hour and a half to bang out his drum parts..

14. Walking to a nearby coffee shop in Northern Liberties, the whole time wondering why the blood is not circulating in my feet

15. Openly bitching about lack of blood circulation in my foot region

16.  Matty breaking down the science of Vans boat shoes and how the soles are so thin they offer no protection against the elements

17. Smiles from a girl outside the coffee shop who looks like she's high as a bluebird on caffiene

18. A Poppy seed bagel and Cappuccino order

19. Noting I only have 3 bucks

20. Trip to the ATM which is out of order

21. Borrowing money from Matty

22. Walking back to the studio, feeling coming back to my feet.

23. Knocking out 2/5 songs, drinking coffee like Kool Aid

24. Mandatory 3 hour break to watch the Eagles

25. Chinese Food orders

26. Not wanting to go to the ATM because the game is and the Eagles are making me nervous with their slim point advantage.

27. Chinese delievery.  Me telling the guy to wait while I run to Silk City (around the corner from where we record - yeah we got primetime location!) for the ATM

28. Chinese guy offers me a ride, I accept. Pay him his money and end up walking back around the corner.

29. Matty is a focused trooper laying down his guitar and bass parts in that cold ass room.

30. I'm reminded at this time how warm and cozy it is in the waiting area.

31. Texting a co-worker back and forth about the game, nervous as hell.

32. Eagles WIN!

33. Excitement plans to go out and have a party committee

34. A quick ride home, slight breather

35. Back at the studio finishing 5/5 songs. The clock strikes 11pm.

36. Dropping a caravan of girls off at Yakatori Boy for Sake Bombs and hitting my knee in the process almost breaking my nose.  All due to fatigue.

37. Home now, playing on the computer, reading The Punisher: Widow Maker (good shit) hanging out in the bathroom (it's peaceful in there)

38. Fallout 3 on my new 42" plasma flat screen TEE.VEE

39. Shocked as hell when the spot turns into party committee Sunday night aka Monday morning at 2 am.

40. Watching the Boondocks with some female who another female introduces as some R&B singer

41. Listening to R&B singer sing some Rhianna song. Sounds pretty solid

42. Talking a bunch of shit drinking a bunch of beer

43. Watching everyone leave

44. Videogames

45. Starblazers: Forever Yamato

46. Sleep.

It's funny when I was a kid.  And I mean in the saturday morning cartoon, can't fall asleep Christmas Eve way.  I always wanted to live a life that led to heavy enduring that led to seat of your pants payback.  I connected with the romanticized characteristics of drama.  You know the story, we live it everyday: Our hero blows all his money on something he shouldn't have, which leads to character being placed in a tight spot, and there's a wonderful adventure that develops on the way to the hero getting everything to work out?

I wanted those silver screen-dream moments to be my life.  And I sort of adapted into that mentality whether it was for gains, losses, or neutral grounding.  But along the way and more so now, I noticed that those movies didn't place enough emphasis on the "real-life" variables.  Of course not because it's all fantasy land.  But they didn't put enough emphasis on the supporting characters.  Sure there was always the nerdy best friend, who was good with the wise cracks and parental voice of reason advice.  But not just those characters, the ones that let our under age protaganist into the club so they could do their thing for the love interest.  The ones that bit on the cons, the landlord that gave the hero the manageable (or un-manageable) deadline to run that rent money in vs. kicking them out to the gutter.  And so-on and so-on.

I guess the ephinany that I've had is that is what defines those moments.  And I've realised this because if there's one thing I learned during my 5 year stint at college it's: NOT WHAT YOU KNOW. BUT WHO YOU KNOW AND WHAT THEY CAN DO FOR YOU, OR WHAT YOU CAN DO FOR THEM.

I say that now because as I sit here and I look at the landscape (the arts specifically) and my/our plans for it. I'm that much (or less) hipper to the game.  The first rule of being humble is to realise that it is always bigger than you. But what they leave to figure out on your own, is that it's all connected, not un-like the 60 degrees of Kevin Bacon.

Why I decided to write all of this?  Let's just say some things have come up and to any and everyone who needs this, I will be needing your support more than ever.  No I'm not dying and it's nothing bad.  Quite good actually.  But beyond that I'm not saying anything except that it's all on us and outside of my accomplices (Matty, Chuck, Ryan P., Ryan R.) and those that have laced us with oppourtunities, let's have a good showing.

Flash
k!

Thomas Walter Provost is wishing he had the superhuman trait of shutting his blind date the fuck up.  Since they arrived at the tacky-chic, neo-hip, overpriced, downtown Rib Joint, she's only stopped talking to put food, alcohol or water in her mouth.  He's been cordial even though it's been torturing him, his selfish conquest of possibly ending up in a sexual situation with this woman is starting to diminish and he has no more interest in over priced watered down drinks.

Trying to flater his senses he stares at her plain features from across the table.  He can't see the beautiful abyss of her brown eyes, the plainess in her check structure, or carefully crafted make-up.  No attention is paid to her freshly cut bangs, shoulder length curly hair, or arching eyebrows.  He does wonder if her earrings are pearls or that fake custume jewelry shit bought at a thrift store in a state of womanship begging to be showed off.

After thinking about it briefly, he decides to be judgemental and not give her to much credit.  Here is a woman talking to him about some the finer benefits of home schooling.  Before that it was rich dads versus poor dads.  Before that it was feminism.  Before that it was Carrie Bradshaw versus  Anne Taylor. And so the night had been going.  Thomas Walter Provost excused himself to get a smoke and some fresh air.  One detail that he did manage to absorb through all the babbling which had reduced his paricipation in the conversation to "Yes, no, maybe, probably" and dialouge-worn stories about his childhood, was that she wasn't into smoke.  Didn't mind smokers, just couldn't deal with the actual smoke.  To this point she wasn't aware that he was even a social smoker (really he wasn't) but he had gotten to a point that if he heard one more compare and comparison about VH1's formula for reality t.v. programs versus big-wig network sitcom programming, he was going to take that well put together cornbread cheesecake his date had been picking at and shove it down her mouth.

He ran his hands over his Lacoste sweater and noted that her extra large Munroe (a brand not the actress) converted into a dress looked a little flimsy.  He laughed out loud in his head as he thought "Probably from H&M" gave a nod and walked out to the smoking area.  Thomas Walter Provost could see her sitting there all alone, itching to text her girlfriends with the good/bad/ugly of their encounter so far.  He almost called up Ives (the one who hooked him up with this friend of a girl he was messing around with) to do the same.  That never materialized as he remembered that since he was only a social smoker he did not have a cigarette.  This was a huge problem because there was no one outside smoking.  Thwarted at his attempts to catch a second of silence, Thomas Walter Provost had a decision to make, come up with a last second I-really-don't-want-to-be-here-but-I'm-going-to-end-this-gracefully-have-a-goodnight plan, or to hold onto that one slim chance that his wits could hold out long enough to see if he had a remote chance of possibly being intimate with his date.

Dire straights, totally uncomplicated, he turned and made his way back to their table.