Hello, good people. More than a year of incommunicado from us. Sorry!
Here are 10 facts to know and celebrate maniacally.
1. If you're reading this, I feel certain you know: I had myself a good, old-fashioned near death experience. It was fantastically terrifying. While I cannot exactly recommend near death experiences, I can confirm that they are instructive of what to do with the rest of your life. Finity is an important concept to grasp. So, yes, I do feel like I have a greater/sharper/more profound appreciation for life. This is a cliche of near death experiences, and I apologize for that. And whoever you are, I love you even more now. Sorry.
2. I went and signed up with Twitter. Yeah, I know. I'm surprised too. I did it mainly to avoid what happened with Myspace, which was that we got dragged reluctantly into the whole melee by a fan setting up an account for us. Ultimately, we were grateful, of course. (Myspace has been good for us; the amazing, effusive reaction to "Ann The Word" --- passionate emails from all around the world --- has been very encouraging and actually emboldened the band in a really healthy way). While I was ambivalent about the Twitter phenomenon, I don't think I could bear it if someone was tweeting all over the place as/for the band.
Right now, the Twitter account is just me, but soon it will be the whole band chiming in as Beauty Pill activity revs up later this year. And then at that point, I may set up my own personal account. We'll see how it goes.
I suppose I gotta do the same thing with Facebook, right?
3. Seemingly every music blogger and journalist in the world has beset my inbox with questions about how I feel about having written the infamous line in "You, Yes You" that somewhat darkly referenced Michael Jackson. The song is a simple love song and the reference was actually meant, in passing, as a tribute to Michael Jackson. I was trying my best to think of the most inarguably lovely things on earth, and unfortunately Rodgers & Hammerstein already wrote "My Favorite Things" more than half a century ago.
In pursuit of lovely images, I arrived at the thought of young, pure Michael Jackson, singing his ass off onstage with a multi-colored bellbottomed jumpsuit. To explain this further would be to reduce the song and also insult your intelligence. It's obvious, no? Do I feel the lyric was mean or, God help me, prophetic? No and no.
For the record, everyone in the band was deeply saddened at the news of MJ's death. Just as you were, if you have a soul at all. I refuse to use the words "King Of Pop" (an icky self-description coined to prop up one of his late-period icky records), but I do acknowledge that the dude was a genius. People expecting me to say something irreverent or dismissive about the man will have to find their vicious little internet thrills elsewhere. I'm blasting the "Off The Wall" reissue just like you are. Let's move on, yes?
4. We gots a satchel full of dope new songs. Yes, we do. You will hear them soon. I mean, we haven't put out a record in quite some time, right? We ought to have some new music. And we do. It is true that I'm famous for throwing away songs --- but I have learned to stop apologizing for that. What can I say? Contrary to my rep, I'm not a perfectionist, I just don't believe in polluting the world with weak ideas. Too many people do it and I refuse to participate in that. But we have a bunch of new ideas that are too great to throw away. I may talk a little bit about that on Twitter, as the release develops. I do like the enforced haiku-like brevity of the Twitter concept for talking about new songs. It's like "Oh, I would say more, but, y'know, only 160 characters or whatever..." :)
5. I don't know how to say this with enough sincere emphasis. Words cannot support the sentiment, it's just too huge. The sentiment is thank you for all of the kind words and offerings of support when I was in the midst of my near-death experience. Beauty Pill fans are so lovely; sweet, smart, empathetic, curious, soulful. To all of our fans, friends, and family (one and the same, as far as I am concerned), thank you so much.
6. What does the new music sound like? This is the most oft-asked question. The new music is another world entirely. We hope you like it. I know I do. That's the only thing I can go on: I like it, hope you do. Each song is its own adventure. I guess that's always the case, but... I think that sense of draping each song in its own clothing that was very present on the "Cigarette Girl" EP... that saturated coloration has returned. Each song is its own vista. That's the best way to describe the new songs, I think, and it's still clumsy and inaccurate. Hard to be more specific or descriptive. You should just hear it and decide for yourself what it means to you.
The startlingly enthusiastic international reception heaped upon "Ann The Word" (a 7-minute long, slow, anguished, quasi-Japanese piece of music I was certain would be greeted with a massive *yawn*) threw a door open into a new world. And we found some interesting stuff in that world. We're sending it back to you, by way of thanks. I don't know if I'm making any sense here. Soon, soon, soon, soon.
7. I am working on returning to playing shows and there will be news on that front shortly as well. The band, for the record, is rarin' to go. Every other day I get a text: "Let's play a show!!! When are we going to play?!" Drew, Devin, Jean, Basla, Chad, (and also Holly, TJ, and Cale, who we had the pleasure of collaborating with in recent years)... if you're ever lucky enough to get to play music with any of these people, you should definitely do that. Enormously gifted, charismatic, very musical people. I have been privileged!
I am in one of my favorite bands. I know that's a weird thing to say, but it's true. Beauty Pill is one of my favorite bands. For those of you who have not seen the band live (and this includes our lovely fans in Japan, Europe, South America, etc.), it's... um... a pretty great live band. On a good night, we throw down. I like us. I want you to see us. I want to see you. I miss playing shows. I dream of playing shows.
After my surgery, I couldn't pick up a guitar for many months. This was by doctor's orders. The guitar sat in the corner of my bedroom and taunted me. I developed a few other skills to compensate, the way blind people hear really well and deaf people have good night vision. I took the time to investigate more fully the world of pure texture from found sound. The macbook replaced the guitar. I tried to become a cross between Stephen Hawking and Madlib.
Recently, I picked up the guitar again and it feels good and a little strange. Good strange. But strange.
8. Musician/geek stuff: Partially galvanized by my love of the subtly tilting chords in Radiohead's "House Of Cards," --- a very heavy song if you listen to the lyrics --- I got myself a gorgeous Gibson SG that just positively sings. There's just something about the way that the SG works and chimes and growls underneath a vocal melody... it is full of cello frequencies. It's inspiring for writing songs. And it's a "simple machine" in the way that Telecasters and Silvertones are simple machines. I like simple machines. A guitar is just a plank of wood and some wire. My favorite guitarists address it this way.
I never played an SG before, because, in case you hadn't noticed, there is a very famous and brilliant Gibson SG player in Washington, DC and I'm not really interested in courting any more comparisons to that dude than I endure already by our close association. Before I got sick, I was playing a Telecaster that I loved very much. But its energy wasn't working for the new Beauty Pill songs. It was chewing the scenery. The SG has a wholly different energy from the telecaster. It swims underneath the voice.
When I strap it on, I get a strong urge to play a show. And then I remember that I never really know what the hell I'm doing when I play guitar. And then I get scared. Good scared. But scared nonetheless.
Soon, soon, soon, soon. Okay?
10. David Byrne's blog is really interesting. I encourage you to read it, maybe even dig into past posts. Beware of the side effect: it will give you an inferiority complex and make you jealous of the life that he lives. Think about this: Every morning he wakes up and he is David Byrne. Imagine waking up and looking in the mirror and saying "I am David motherfucking Byrne."
Chad