So Dave is coming by tomorrow and we're starting work on the new version of the band. the new songs will be genetically engineered to make you laugh a little, fall in love with the characters, get your heart broken, and then fill you up with more hope than the Obama campaign. We have the science and formulas to back us up.

Keep the faith fuckers--I'm not going anywhere.

I never do this but "My Name Is Bruce" just showed up in the mail via Blockbuster online so I immediately sat down and watched it.

Not only does it feature yours truly (LOL. seriously . . . if you notice in the movie, they've lost ya) but many very familiar faces and locales. I walk by a lot of those scene locations at least once a week at the very amazing Land Mind.

So if you're a fan of Bruce Campbell, go buy the DVD cuz you'll wanna watch it more than once. If for nothing else but to see John Bach and Grandstrom get shot in the woods.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Emy_Z31vTQ

Hey! It's no worse than the other crap you watch on youtube!

Bwah ha ha ha! Could you imagine?

I can't believe you're even looking at this.

An experience that my kids will probably never get to experience: Ah, the record store. Some of my finest moments have been in these places. Rows and rows and rows of music I have heard, haven't heard, heard about (good and bad), forgot about, and on and on. But the best part about the record store isn't really the inventory (although that is obviously crucial). The best part is the people behind the counter. Always.

My first job was behind the counter at the record store (The Record Mill in Medford if anyone remembers that place). I eventually went on to greater things--Rare Earth in Ashland when they still had records (well, technically CDs and horrible crap no one should ever buy but still . . . ). My "duties" were to keep the stock dusted and in alphabetical order. But my REAL job was to shoot the shit with the customer about his purchase and perhaps turn him on to something else he might like. Now, before you go crying "SUGGESTIVE SELL! SUGGESTIVE SELL!" it was much more natural than that. I was only 14 to 21 at the time so I was completely immune (read: unaware) of the desire of the business owner that I would be coercing someone into buying MORE and MORE merchandise (I got a guy to order the entire Pink Floyd catalog once. but it was truly from the heart). And here I go dating myself . . . "Man, you like Aerosmith? You'll LOVE Cheap Trick!" "Huey Lewis and the News? Hell, you'll love the Motels." Turned into: "You love Vanilla Ice? Uh, fuck off. Buy this Helmet record or I'll never let you shop here again."

So eventually I moved to Texas and found some great record stores there. Bill's Records. Really great selection. The day after I saw the Jesus Lizard live I went to Bill's and was able to get 4 of their albums. But Bill was super creepy and only hired cute young boys who didn't know shit about music. So it wasn't GREAT to hang out and talk music.
Bone Daddy's opened up in lower Plano and I'd go there a lot. The owner's taste was so off the wall, I ended up accidentally exposed to some great stuff. Random but great. I think that's where I first heard Man or Astroman. And I was there a couple times a week just to hang out if nothing else. I fixed their computer one day and got a few free CDs out of the deal. The staff could talk records all day long.

Which brings me to Musichead. I stopped in to pick up a CD I ordered (whaaaat? you can do that?). An old acquaintance who has become a friend recommended a record I had never heard (I won't say which album because it's one of those "Wow. You've never heard that? Really?" records) so I ordered it there. Step back a second. I didn't feel right getting it on iTunes. I really didn't feel right getting it from Circuit City (no offense to any CC people but, uh, y'all don't seem all that concerned or informed about current or past music). I felt, in order to get the TRUE experience of the record, I had to go to the record store and order it, wait, and then appreciate it once it came. By the way, there is some pleasure in getting something after waiting some time to get it. Just sayin'.

I go to pick it up and BAM! I ask the question: How is the new Metallica? Between Eric,the owner of the store, and Jymbo, the other guy behind the counter (who is the resident expert on metal for sure . . . . possibly everything else), I'm there for another 20 minutes. I get to hear the record. We talk about the record. We question Rick Rubin's production. Blah blah blah. It's a whole conversation that leads to me buying this record which I had said, in public, I'd never buy. But it was the record store and all its magic that led me to that record. And Jymbo was right--it doesn't suck. Everything he said about it was spot-on. The guy knows his music. And yours too.

So the next time you're trying to save a couple of bucks by going to Wal Mart or Circuit City to pick up a CD, or if you're pulling it down with bitorrent, or even buying something on iTunes, think about what you're missing at 350 S. Riverside. They're the last of a dying breed. And I hope they're around long enough for my kids to go there and experience that crucial communion.

So our pal Max Hardcore is looking at 50 years in prison for his brand of entertainment. This came down this week. This is bad news, folks.

I've met the guy. I wouldn't say that I'd be a great character witness. But the song remains the same--he has the freedom to make his art with consenting adults. And his level of intensity did not appeal to me in person or in art form but his decisions should not be dictated by my taste. It's much more appalling that he is facing serious charges. I can always turn his stuff off . . . or not watch it at all. I can't think of an argument that would make sense to incarcerate this guy based on his films.

Believe me, if he goes down, the entire First Amendment (freedom of speech) goes down with him. All they need is a first step . . .

Fight them to the floor.

The shrieking of nothing is killing
Just pictures of jap girls in synthesis and i
Aint got no money and I aint got no hair
But Im hoping to kick but the planet its glowing

Ashes to ashes, funk to funky
We know major toms a junkie
Strung out in heavens high
Hitting an all-time low

Time and again I tell myself
Ill stay clean tonight
BUT THE LITTLE GREEN WHEELS ARE FOLLOWING ME
Oh no, not again
Im stuck with a valuable friend
Im happy, hope youre happy too
One flash of light but no smoking pistol

Damn you David Bowie. I put a pox upon thee that renders you useless to write something better than this. Oops. Too late.

OK. I'm gonna get a lot of heat here. And it really came down to two bands.

Quarterflash and Nu Shoes didn't make my list.

Mine didn't either. Which is pretty pathetic-I should at least vote for myself.

I'm down to Poison Idea and Sweaty Nipples.

I can't decide. You tell me. You can see live shows on You Tube.

Well we found a drummer. We're working out the bugs but will be up and running in no time. Look for upcoming shows soon!

In other news, I finished mixing Chesterfield's new CD "Death Grip" and also G.G. Elvis's CD so look for those at the Mental Records site soon!

It feels good to work out the kinks again . . .

Fat, exhausted, and depressed--not a huge stretch for me but I play it true to form in the documentary 800 CDs. If you want to learn some cool stuff about selling CDs or if you're just interested in the music grind in general, buy this film here.. You can see some previews and learn a little more about Chris Vallenti and Tim Sweeney at 800cdsthemovie.com. Or if you're simply obsessed with everything Doug, pick up your copy here and see my insight into the song "Preen" which was the catalyst for me starting Nothing Error.


Oh yeah, I was an extra in Bruce Campbell's new movie (yeah, yeah, so was all of Medford, I know) "My Name Is Bruce." My role: "drunk business-man at a strip bar." Nice. nice.