This one may sound a little weird because it's the first episode recorded in the new studio (a.k.a. the spare bedroom of the house we just moved in to). Try to ignore the echo and instead just revel in the hilarity of bronchitis, 768 Kbps Internet, rain on cardboard boxes, hustlers and con artists, Sylvester Stallone and Ariana Grande, landlines, landlords, lunatics, putting an 'i' or an 'e' in front of every name or service in the 90s, Pringles, silence, power outages, gorillas, roller coasters and getting fired from your job.
Oh Canada, the San Gabriel Valley, LSD, white bread, the Oscar race (pretty sure he's white - har har), the wonderful and marvelous (and now dead) Joe Frank, the proximity effect, Craigslist again because apparently I'm a masochist, and last but not least on this abbreviated episode for an abbreviated month: how I became a Bitcoin millionaire!
This episode is two days late for reasons which may reveal themselves when you listen. And who wouldn't want to listen to a scintillating discussion about deviled ham, touring Prince's home and recording studio Paisley Park - a cotton candy Barbie dream condo if ever there was one, landlords, looking for a new job, minimalism, money, security as a trap, pots and pans and music, and remaining civilized.
Over the river and through the woods, to Bukowski's house we go. This is just me talking about what it was like there, and how I wound up there. It's a brief tale that I thought you'd like to hear. But don't let it inspire you to go to Bukowski's house uninvited. That wouldn't be cool. Don't be that person. In California you can shoot someone through your front door and never see the inside of a police station for doing it, keep that in mind as you go about your day. It's probably a good thing to keep in mind in general, as a rule for a happy life.
Getting an email from Gene Simmons, why young boys must rock, spending fifty thousand dollars on a collection of outtakes, getting onto a cruise ship with really old rock stars, spending $250 on a collection that is basically The Beatles dicking around for 80 hours while being filmed, Ektachrome 500, the miracle of HAP (again), metadata, When The Saints Go Marching In, tediously listing things like some kind of idiot, Beatle harmonies, the Wailers, little record stores in little lake towns, and a few thousand other words or debatable wisdom.
I come fully prepared to talk about supper clubs, The Hat Pack, the futility of it all, professional locksmiths, unprofessional landlords, professional "contractors," ladders, distinctive tape measures, flashlights and sticky fingers, flying buttresses, Appalachia, apes painting window trim, you and your stereo and how great you are, whether or not it's socially acceptable to call someone a mental case, red plastic shopping bags, what a $250,000 house in Los Angeles looks like, shoes dropping, best case scenarios, water water everywhere, Puerto Rico, Dominica, and what the hell is a U.S. territory anyway?
We may as well talk about modern day lynch mobs and public shaming, that Nazi rally in Charlottesville, Twitter, getting "good PR" by piggybacking on a tragedy, censorship, Godwin's law, Trump bulldozing people into mass graves, remembering the days of the free exchange of ideas with no governing body, Nazis having trouble finding online homes, riding in shopping carts, the price of freedom, the fact that Scientology is a dangerous and toxic mind control cult, Xenu and body thetans, cute Aryan chicks, realizing that everything you're doing is wrong, squishy dead brain tissue, the Westboro Baptist Church, Jewliciousness, the veins in your forehead bursting, the Civil War solution, Bob Marley, David Letterman and Peter Tosh, war and peace.
Amble down the path with me, if you will, toward finishing the writing of books, promoting and getting reviewers to read said books, plastic and metal, pushing birds out of nests, motors with moxie, selling window fans, oral histories, Roger Steffens and Bob Marley, faulty and fragile memories, tipping over a street vendor's cart because you're an asshole, Slash, doxing, lynching and the Sony HAP S1/B as lord and savior.
I have the best of intentions when I record these, but sometimes things just get away from me. So I'm not sure what this one is "about," but aside from what's listed in the title you'll also hear about PJ Harvey again (including never-before heard audio from an interview I did with her 10 years ago), discographies, demo versions of songs, why the last song on the side of an LP sounds worse than the first, obsession, Eraserhead, why everyone n the Internet is an asshole, I'll say "the N-word" (twice) without spontaneously bursting into flame, heads on pikes, Richard Pryor, George Carlin, N.W.A. and Apple. Not the fruit, the company that rules your world.
I caught PJ Harvey's "The Hope Six Demolition Project" tour at the Greek Theater here in Los Angeles. Allow me to tell you about that, and about psychic space, outdoor music shows, croaking for dollars, staying relevant in the face of increasing waves of nostalgia, First Aid Kit and Fiona Apple, retiring from live shows, people putting on a groovy act, jalapeno nachos and spinach wraps, the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus, cannibalism, Cirque du Soleil, voicemails and chirping of many kinds.