Hear ye, hear ye! I hereby announce that my occupation, besides being a musician who doesn't make any money, will be author of stupid surveys and such.

Todays question: Which food is the ugliest? Maybe you've created a dish far more ugly than anyone can imagine and you feel the need to share your success with the rest of us, or maybe you'd just go for a classic such as spam. The choice is all yours!

So I had my first gig last weekend. I was a bit worried about a couple of things, like how the recordings would sound through big speakers (I had everything except guitar and vocals on an mp3-player). I only have my 15 year old stereo that sounds like crap, so I wasn't sure about the quality at all. And then I thought maybe I wasn't even gonna find the festival, because it was in the middle of nowhere, but despite the fact that they only put up this tiny little sign that said "festival" pointing in the right direction, I didn't make one single wrong turn. And I always make three.

So there I was, in a forest somewhere in Småland, and it was raining like crazy of course, and I was just smiling because of the irony. I was supposed to play my first gig on the outdoors stage and it was raining and noone would come. Just my luck.

But the rain stopped, and the gig went well, people actually seemed to like it! I didn't play it perfect, but it was ok anyway. I sold all of the cd's I brought, that was pretty cool. Maybe I should've charged more, but I'm too humble.

And then came the hard part. I am seriously not good at socializing and mingling and stuff like that, so I was more worried about the before and after the gig than the actual gig. How was I supposed to act now? Where would I go between the other gigs? Would anyone want to talk to me? And if they did, would I scare them off with my insecure stuttering? I actually brought my mathbook just in case I needed to look busy to hide the fact that I'm too afraid to talk to anyone. The weird thing was I never had to. The whole evening went well. Everyone was nice and civilized and the bands were good too. The best part of the evening though was when an electronic band played (the Skinny Puppy kind, don't know what the genre is called) and there was this guy dancing kind of alone in front of the stage, and man did he have some moves or what?? It was like a strange fusion between robot dance and moonwalk, performed by someone who didn't know either of them. It was awesome, everyone should dance without knowing how, it would make the world a much happier place.

The drive home was a horror. The fog was so compact I couldn't see anything and had to drive really slow, but it was definitely worth it, cause it felt so good coming home. I ate a sandwich on the couch and afterwards I was so tired I thought about just tipping over and falling asleep, but I managed to gather my last ounces of strength to get myself to bed. On my way there I kept bumping into things like I was drunk or something, I don't think I've ever been that tired. At the moment I'm just tired enough to realise I have to end this post right about now.

So the time has almost come. For my first ever solo gig. And I'm having nightmares about it. (The good things about nightmares though is that I have to be asleep to have them.. which means I've been sleeping.. which is weird.. but probably good.)

Tonight I dreamt that I was Casiotone for the Painfully Alone. Yup, it was me plus some guy I didn't know, which was quite a disappointment for me, since I've been looking forward to seeing CFTPA, and now all of a sudden I had to play the gig myself. The gig started with some kids performing some kind of circus act on stage while I was getting ready. Suddenly I realised that the only song I knew was Roberta C. And I forgot to bring anything besides my old casio. Well at least I knew one song, so that'd have to do I thought. I went up on stage and started to play. But I had no idea what I was playing. I just made something up and the guy went along with it. After the song the audience was completely silent. Ok, so time to play Roberta C instead. But then I realised I didn't remember the chords. Or the lyrics. So I had to tell the kids to perform another circus act while I rehearsed. Of course I couldn't remember for the life of me, and then my mum showed up telling me to play the song for my sister, who in the dream was maybe 5 or 6 (she's 13 for real), cause she was sad and couldn't sleep and wanted to hear that song, and all of a sudden I was a teenager and backstage was my bedroom in my mum's apartment from when I was still living at home, and I was extremely stressed out and annoyed and the kids were circusing, the audience was starting to boo, my sister was crying, my mum was nagging and I couldn't remember one single note from that song no matter how hard I tried.

And then I woke up.

It's a cliché nightmare, I know. Too bad the circus kids didn't spontaineously combust, that would've been a nice touch.

I've got a gig, I've got a gig, I've got a gig, teehee  So now I'm re-recording all my songs. Some of them will be practically identical with the old versions, minus the hiss. Some will be quite different, like Gary O'Neill which I started recording today. I'll be putting up the new versions as I go along, at least those I like better than the old ones.
But I think my xylophone is ill! Or maybe it's just old. I bet it outages me. It has an H instead of a B. Anyway, there's a strange buzzing sound coming from the aforementioned H and the neighbouring A and C. I really need to find out what's wrong and fix it, anything else would be a disaster. Anyone out there who knows a xylophone doctor? Preferrably a good one.

I'm bored. Bored bored bored. Bored. This is just one of these days when I can't come up with anything stimulating to do. I go to the kitchen, wash a plate and a spoon before I get bored with it. I go out on the balchony and stare at the plants in the flower box for a while, thinking that they're not doing too well, but I don't know how to take care of them properly. I just know how to eat them. I think about cooking something, but I'm too hungry, so I make a sandwich, hoping I will be dehungred enough to be able to cook something, but instead I just get tired and stuck to the couch. There's nothing to watch on TV tonight. And all the records on the radio are shite. I think about how much better it would be if I knew people like Gordon McIntyre or Jason Korzen. Or maybe they're a couple of bastards, I wouldn't know. I think about how much better it would be if I knew people. I feel sorry for myself for a while, and then get bored with it. I'm thinking about watching Ecuador - Germany. Which makes me realise how serious my condition is. And it's contagious as well, since it makes me write really long letters to people I hardly know, which may cause boredom to the recipents. But they'll just have to bear with it.
But for some reason I don't get bored with listening to music. And right now I listen to four songs over and over, like a monkey with a miniature cymbal:
- Pop love by Let's Be Honeys
- Another fire by Deadman Bed
- The Poet by Exposure To Sunlight
- Curtains by Humble
You should listen to them too, cause they're great. I wish I could come up with a good way to end this post, but at the moment I can't. Sorry.

I think I'm in love with my new song. Is it allowed? I almost wish someone else had made it first so I didn't have to feel guilty for liking it so much. I know I'm supposed to think that everything I make is more or less crap, but, well, I realise I don't. And for some reason I feel bad about it. And good. Strange conflicted feelings indeed.

and of course i'm listening to my own song