bravery

O.K., writing a bad review of Avril Lavigne is like making a speech against homophobia in my hometown of Northampton MA. It's not particularly brave. Thing is, I hate that little shit stain with a unique and peculiar passion. And I hate that worthless little sootikin (look it up- you'll love it) Ashlee Simpson. I hate them because they have the fucking ovaries to use the word "punk" in describing their worthless wankoff "songs" and their cleverly honed "image". And what happens is "the media" picks it up and runs with it and suddenly you have to hear it all over the place.

See, I'm 40 which means I was 12 in 1977. that shit was VERY IMPORTANT to me in getting through those five years which I know I don't have to describe to anyone who has borne the shitty, putrescent mantle of adolescence. even a washed up genius like me would rather dive headfirst into my follicularly-unpromising middle age than revisit that indignity. Although on the upside, adolescence is like weed in that music sounds better.

I don't even mind that asshat Jessica Simpson or that whole crew that much. We're familiar with her ilk; they've been around since they started Youth Culture in the '50's and hating all that would be sort of like hating the color red or oxygen or something. I even thought about doing a cover of that craven little homewrecker Britney Spears' number "toxic" which had the most bitchin' string arrangement since the heydey of the Bond movie songs. Hey, don't take it from me, man. I know basically everything about making music and I can honestly report some approaching-Brian-Wilson- talent behind one or two of those Backdoor Boys harmonies. "I Want It That Way"? yeesh. There is more counterpoint, more couplings, more perfect Plagal and Neapolitan cadences, more careful avoidance of parallel fifths and octaves, more pianistic open chord-closed chord-open chord movements than there should be. Don't get me wrong- I don't actually listen to it but credit where credit is due. If the Backdoor Boys and them had grown one tenth between '99 and say '03 as the Beatles did between '63 and '67 we might have had something. Nowadays, though, that's how long these ninnies take to record a drum track so forget it.

It's probably some guy like me, some unassertive musical ace who was almost famous for five minutes in '99 against the better judgement of the universe and the engineer's assistant had one of the six records that he sold, so he got the gig to arrange the harmonies. You think I'd say no to 10 or 15 large to arrange harmonies for NSynch? I'd be all over that like rice on a cheap suit.

Hell, we were chomping at the bit to have David Foster produce us. We prob'ly would have made a disco record if it meant another six months on the road instead of selling tools and fixing goddamn computers or somethin'.

We musicians who are the real thing tend away from high falutin'-ness. If you get your break by falutin' highly, then so much the better, but you take the break you get. Unless you're scared like a little pussy lemming candy boy lead guitarist. Don't be ascared, punkin. There's your suitcase, there's your plane ticket, there's your axe.

But if it ever meant being involved in anything by the likes of the aforementioned trollop or her sootikin (I'll link stuff like that when I figure out how but trust me- look it up)henchteen Assleigh
Chimpsuit you'd do better behind the counter at Subway. Or holding up 7 Elevens. Just remember on most 9 mm.s nowadays the safety is on the right side in front of the grip. And a speedloader or two is always a good idea with a revolver. When you're whacking Avril Lavigne. I mean holding up a 7 Eleven.

I'm going to have another coffee and then maybe I'll write what I really wanted to write about bravery. Or better yet, I'll write some GOOD music instead of being preoccupied with sh-sh-shite and tomorrow I will really write about bravery and the brilliance and genius of everybody's favorite lover of penis, Rufus Wainwright.