The Bobby Lightfoot Memorial Music Bonanza!!

'kay Brentmeister General et. al. 'n' anybody who wants to experience the rare and heady strains of my brilliant songcraft---------- we'll create a little (very little I'm sure) musical/commercial utopia the way the big boys would if they would but acknowledge that it isn't 1986 anymore. Or, sadly, 1979.

I must, however, go against everything I was taught in Music Marketeering 101 and issue the odd caveat: definitely don't expect a tone similar to th' Orchestra of Sweet Regret. I've been searching for a forum for all my spite and vitriol, and found it here in these smelly pages. My music, by contrast, is very romantic and very classical. And you're more likely to hear a string section or Fender Rhodes than any stinko guitar tones.

See, about 4 or 5 years ago I got sick of making music that uses tones and ideas borrowed from car ads, and I mothballed the rock instruments. I figured if I wanted to do something more cutting edge than rock I could maybe go into investment banking or perhaps cell phone sales. Th' irony is that most people still think that a distorted guitar and some shrieking equals dissaffection the way it did twenty seven years ago, and it doth not. It equals a Well Conceived Marketing Strategy For Maximum Market Saturation with options for selling bug spray is what it equals. Truss me. I've been there. I've seen Ian Astbury from the Cult chuck monitors into the front row because the publicity generated from the attendant law suits would be cheaper than an ad campaign for their shitty yestercrap. Hee hee- you think I'm kidding. I've had these fuckstains telling me I had to have Rob Thomas on my album for it to sell. Jeez, that's when you really need it. We joked about going along with it just so we could gas him in the vocal booth. All that. I'd rather go on American Idle. Imagine if they'd told Partridge that White Music had to have a cameo from fucking Barry Manilow. He'd still be doing window displays.

What I decided on was my own Velvet Revolution, where I would just make music as skilled and muted and understated and softly gorgeous and human as my abilities would permit and, when you think about it, in 2005 that's pretty much like being the Sex Pistols. Anyway, the irony is that now I'm perceived as a total throwback to the 60's (which I spent either as a twinkle in my father's pants or filling my nappy) and that's just fine.

Anyway- long story shorts- be ready for Pet Sounds, not Nevermind.

That said, drop me a line at picassoface@charter.net if you gots the bandwidth to receive 3-4 Mb song files and I'll send you a song a day until you've got the whole Brattleboro April 6 12:05 AM album. Starting with the wave of loving sadness that is "Matinee". Somewhere in there I'll send you the cover art which is a pretty watercolor of lovely Brattleboro VT and a hideous garish snapshot of hideous garish LA.

Then if you still like it after a few months here's what you do- you give five bucks to two homeless people and you send me a fiver. Yeah, baby.

See why I'm so huge? That's just unamerican. Cheney sure as fuck wouldn't do THAT. He'd probably want to be paid in childmeat.