Andrew's Blog

columbus, ohio, whatever, etc.

2011-12-07T00:34:00.000-08:00

it's a sort of nostalgia for me. that's why i'm attracted and attached to you. perhaps it's nothing more. i think you're fine. as fine as a city should be to someone in france who might highly regard paris. you know what i mean? you have landmarks i relate with because i'm from ohio and i was told about them ever since i was in junior high. columbus: ohio's mecca.

thing is... you're just another city. i'm sorry, it's true. you're the 15th largest city in the US or something. you have a hit-or-miss identity. sometimes you are defined by the people in red jerseys yelling at the lcd's. sometimes you have a blip in the chicago tribune about an art gallery or eatery/restaurant somewhere in the short north... but that happens in every city... sorry, but that's the truth. largely, no one is talking about your bands here. largely, no one is talking about your art here. and largely, no one gives a fuck about the buckeyes. it surprised the world when you were able to pull off a national championship. best of luck to tressel in indianapolis.

columbus, you are suffering from a more severe identity crisis than i am. i recall telling the owner of the big bang well before i moved back to ohio from nashville... "we're gonna have to change our format. columbus appreciates silly things." i actually appreciate those silly things too. musical solos. a basic knowledge of jambands. musical improvisation. columbus holds these things close to its proverbial heart. but i'm sorry, it's so silly. it's so silly that i can't even bring myself to learn the basics to appease the city's demand. dmb, phish,widespread panic, o.a.r. (yack), etc.

there is no scene in columbus, ohio. there is no music scene. there is no art scene. there is nothing new here. columbus, ohio is the biggest fan of columbus, ohio. this is tragic only because columbus is the best ohio has to offer. i came up here because i felt i had something to say. some people heard it and some people turned away.

i didn't dance. i didn't offer a spot on stage for the anonymous musician that felt he could fill a spot in my band. and i never welcomed interpretive dancers. i never will. i had songs that i wrote. i tried my best to express them with what i had at my disposal alone. some people took kindly to that and took those songs to heart and some people compared them to bruno mars. or o.a,r. or god for bid, the black keys. i don't do that. sorry.

i'm making my exit. i go play in other places and they wonder where i came from. they take kindly to my playing and want me to say more. that's refreshing. what is it about the working class in central ohio that can't relate to more than an 808 and a "shortay" or - for the pretentious - whatever pitchfork tells them to think?

columbus, you are not nyc, you are not chicago. you are not LA. you are not austin. and that's unfortunate considering how much i love you. here's the thing... you need to embrace where you came from and nothing more. you are simple. you are red and the people here love it when you yell out the first two letters of the state you're in. own it. embrace it. do something with it and express it in extravagant ways. it's more honest if you do.

and spare me with your write-ups. they're trash because you don't know what the hell you're talking about. no one in the media or entertainment cares what you think at this point, unfortunately. you don't have an accurate frame of reference. wexner and limited brands aside, you have no say in the fashion world. but as long as they're here, perhaps that will change. i hope it will. but i'm sorry, as long as you keep spraying cologne and perfume at the foot of your stores to convince people you actually matter, history will only consider your insolence.

columbus, i'm leaving. I'm sorry. i actually love you in spite of your inability to figure out who or what you are. i will embrace all of my memories here. landmarks, shows, people, experiences, etc. but, please, for the love of everything sacred, get the buckeyes out of your blood and stand for something else instead. until then, you'll always be a second-rate city in the center of fly-over country.

p.s. and when it comes to music, please start singing/performing/doing something that matters. your comfest is a joke. ask anyone outside of columbus.

elliot smith

2011-10-09T02:19:00.000-07:00

one of my best friends brought him up tonight. asked if i ever knew of him. asked if i'm aware of him. asked if i knew about his music and how he died, etc. of course i do. but i didn't say that. poetic justice? whatever. that's just a poetic way to describe the exit of someone of his caliber. i, personally, think it's perfect. long live elliot smith.

i'm gonna cut my hair

2011-08-23T01:20:00.001-07:00

it's so stupid. i feel fine with this. i feel fine when i'm doing things i enjoy that involve things that i enjoy doing. however, when it involves people that would rather enjoy things they are doing? they wanna see an individual on stage with a nice christian hair cut and a jesus-like mouth full of glimmering white teeth singing whatever it is that is on the radio that 45 million people are listening to. i still don't think jesus would approve of that scene, however... especially with beer in hand.

i'm bored. but the hair has to go. i feel as if corporate label showcases don't appreciate unkempt hair. it will happen tomorrow or the next.

i'm just bugged about it.

"give me time" recording

2011-08-01T05:57:00.001-07:00

so nate and i got a bit overly ambitious this morning. we began working on yet another track. we listened back to it, however, and we both hate ourselves a little more for attempting it. anyways... maybe you will like it.

august 1, 2011

"in the red" recording

2011-08-01T02:48:00.000-07:00

up late again tonight. or is it early morning? who cares. nate stayed up and helped me as well. everything we did tonight were scratch - which means we will eventually delete them - but i just wanted to get enough of the track done so matt price can come over and record with us. here's what we came up with...

august 1, 2011

"let's go somewhere" recording

2011-07-31T04:52:00.000-07:00

*UPDATE* 10-19-11

between working on my website, booking shows, rehearsing, writing, and traveling, i found some time to record some vocals on this song. i'm in no way proud of it just yet, but i did make a commitment to this blog. and i was just sick of hearing nothing but instrumentals. i am trying to figure out my recording environment at home. i'm not comfortable with it as of yet and i haven't quite figured out how to get what i want out of my equipment. but this is a demo so it will work for at least this post.

i also finished writing the lyrics to this song earlier this week. i'm much more proud of that. they're posted below.

october, 19 2011

Home sweet home
Home enough to call your own
Sweet enough for anyone
Defined by the population sign

There's a statue on the courthouse square
Steeple crosses in the air
That try to keep you satisfied
If you forget the questions in your mind

Sometimes you close your eyes and do nothing more
Find just what you're looking for
Make believe you're flying

I think it's time I focus my rearview mirror
Watch this place disappear
Hit the gas and go somewhere

I get it
At least I get the gist of it
Do just what my father did
Or perhaps a little more

Find a girl and settle down
Maybe buy a great big house
Where I sleep away my cares
But somewhere there's something else, I swear

Sometimes you close your eyes and do nothing more
Find just what you're looking for
Make believe you're flying

I think it's time I focus my rearview mirror
Watch this place disappear
Hit the gas, let's go somewhere

Every single road I find
Takes me to a place I thought I left behind
Guess I'll never know
The end of this road

So help me find
Somewhere else to run and hide
Something that I haven't tried
I'm running out of time
Or just as well from myself tonight

Sometimes you close your eyes and do nothing more
Find just what you're looking for
Make believe you're flying

I think it's time I focus my rearview mirror
Watch this place disappear
Hit the gas, let's go somewhere

*UPDATE* 9-15-11

look at the date. this is long overdue. my apologies.

matt price came over last week. we did a bunch of guitar work. and both of us only had a couple hours to work with. so we made some significant progress, right? then i had to run off to a meeting. i left him downstairs in front of the computer and i went upstairs to iron a shirt. long story short, my house can't handle that much power on one circuit or something electrical that prevents me from having my studio, window a/c unit, and a clothes iron running the same time. no, i didn't save our work up until that point and half the house lost power the minute i plugged my iron in. i was pissed.

so matt price cleared his schedule for a couple hours and we got some more work done today without any interruptions. i'm pleased with the results.

note: matt price works way too much and gets paid way too little. enjoy.

september, 15 2011

if you're not familiar with the song, i'm sorry. i don't think i have a good live recording of it on youtube or anything. but if you find one, let me know!

so those of you who have never heard it, i hope you follow this blog and watch (listen) to a song develop right in front of your eyes (ears)! nate and i stayed up until 8 am getting familiar with logic 9 (my recording software) and working on this song. basically, we have some piano, some drums, and some bass guitar. not even close to being finished, mind you. but here you go...

july 31, 2011

may the recording begin...

2011-07-27T02:05:00.000-07:00

i'm finally starting the new record. not much to say other than that. i've been working on my computer for a week now making sure i have everything i need. the journey begins tomorrow. i'll keep you posted.

i haven't shown you everything a man can do - billy joel (3x divorced)

2011-07-07T00:47:00.000-07:00

i waited for hours for you where the auglaize and the maumee come together. you were never there. i wanted to be able to express to you how i felt even before i met you there... that's, i suppose, an unfair expectation, but i can't help it. i'm 30 now and aging quicker than ever. you never came. i'm losing faith in you. no. i've lost faith in you. i'm forever at that paramount. you'll never get there cos you listened to what your parents told you. it's fine. i guess i can only hope for old age. it isn't what i had in mind, but unless i somehow end it before i grow old, i'm getting used to sleeping alone. empty beds. big empty beds.

gambling

2011-06-25T02:05:00.000-07:00

you throw in what you know you know you can wager. and then you just ride it after a certain point because there are other gamblers at the table. and, yeah, they know you're not good at this. and they look down on you. it's also telling, though... cos some of them wanna help... and they take the time, show some mercy, and despite what the rest of the table and the dealer thinks of you, they attempt to help... in the end though, they are in it for a piece of what you have. you wind up losing it, ultimately though. cos you don't know how to play. is this a metaphor? yeah. "the gambler" by kenny rogers? probably. it's probably just "the gambler" by kenny rogers... only with more words. more telling words... more revelation... more vulnerability, i suppose... but it doesn't change the fact that i'm taking my latest fascination - gambling. we all do it whether we know it or not. i just happen to be aware of it. i have a faint suspicion i'm gonna wind up broke... but then again, that's what one gets by gambling his heart and years away. and make no mistake, i definitely gambled.

i miss nashville

2011-05-10T23:56:00.000-07:00

i played this little place right outside nashville a couple times. i don't wanna mention the name. it doesn't matter. i played it a couple times. it was a roadhouse. not only was "roadhouse" in their name but it was also a legitimate roadhouse. if you went there during the day, i hear they serve a mean shredded chicken sandwich. i never experienced that. i always got there around 7pm. i played around 9pm each time in the basement beneath the diner. the scene there was something to behold. nothing to tell my mom or grandma v. about because it wasn't the grand ole opry... but then again, nothing is. it was just a basement with a basement sound and a small p.a. it had some cables and chords along the concrete walls and a small bar in the corner. it was big enough to fit about 30 people. intimate? yeah. intimate. you would say it was an intimate setting, but then again, for the amount of venues set up per capita in nashville, every venue is "intimate." it was something other than intimate, honestly.... cos it was in the woods and away from the streets and high rises and even music row, for that matter. it was a road house. the owner served up some very nice orange moonshine. ohio, don't even try to find anything comparable within your borders. please. it's not something you're supposed to be able to offer.

i played my songs there. original songs. that's what people came there for. the people came there for the people who had stories to sing about. not the people you'd know on radio though, because the dj's don't talk about them and they never play their cuts. oh, but they matter. will klmbrough, tommy womack, rodney crowell. they matter. they matter cos the stars you know sing their songs. cos the stars you know have nothing much to say about their own lives... they want to, but they can't express it with their pens the way some of the writers can. and those writers came to that roadhouse with their guitars. rarely did they bring a band. they may have brought some of their other writer friends, but they mostly just brought a guitar and set up a stool beside them to hold their drink of choice. they also brought their handful of fans.

i managed a retail music store in berry hill too. the stresses and pressure of retail is overwhelming enough to know to appreciate little dive bars playing old western music that never gets played on jukeboxes north of the ohio river and west of the mississippi. i won't mention the name of that bar either, but perhaps i should cos they would probably appreciate your business if you're ever in the nashville area. nonetheless, it was a place to unwind. it was a place to reflect with some of my friends. some of the only friends i had left. i bumped into colleagues and musicians and associates there... but i also ran into some of my secret idols. remember garth brooks' "low places"? of course you do. met the writer there. in the corner. playing the digital game thing. drunk. i didn't know it was him, because after all, in my world growing up, garth brooks did that song. :) no no no, he did not. he didn't do that song. the exploited the genius of that song, at best. love garth brooks, but come on, that song is epic and he didn't pen it. anyhow... met the dude. and he was drunk. and behold, he was in that dive bar living out the lyrics of his song. i immediately beheld him as something or someone i should probably never forget about, alone, in the corner, no one around, drunk. i don't think i envied someone so pitiful in my life. in that moment, i understood where he was. not mercy or sympathy, no... just understanding. i don't think it's a bad way to fade away at all. i don't even know what game he was playing... but i imagine he probably wasn't winning. and that's ok.

that old roadhouse has had so many more stars than i can name. a stage i'd rather be on than any other besides the tonight show's. it held the pain and struggle of those who fought the fates in order to get what they wanted and ultimately failed. i know that pain and i understand it even if i never went thru exactly what they went thru... i know how hard it is go thru a thing that is so incredibly big to express thru some kind of standard conversation... a pain so insurmountable... so indescribable, the only way you can attempt tp express it is thru something so much bigger than you... with chords and melody... ideas and emotions that are strictly singable, not conversational... at this point... if i die... that little basement at the roadhouse playing in front of people who care is my heaven... or perhaps in front of a digital poker game i keep feeding with my wallet... with someone across the bar playing pool who sees my back thru the fog of smoke and understands that there's no place i'd rather be... because after all, i expressed it all when i released that song... or that other song... and that's all that matters.

great lakes christmas ale

2010-12-11T01:56:00.000-08:00

http://www.greatlakesbrewing.com/beer/an-exceptional-family-of-beers/seasonal/christmas-ale

it's award winning and it should be. you should drink it ice cold but it reminds you of something warm. i don't know what it is about winter ales and lagers, but they help me long for this season. perhaps it's the heavy clothing they remind me of and allow me to be anonymous. perhaps it's the heavy, stout flavor. i don't even like the cold. you know the natives? the people who were here before us? they imagined their hell was cold. that tends to make a whole lot more sense to me than the christian hell... beings the christian hell is basically founded on traditions not backed up by biblical scripture or evidence... more or less founded upon paranoia and imagery quite akin to scenes from "dante's inferno." everyone i know in ohio wants to get out... "somewhere warmer" seems to be the consensus. i get it. not unlike hell. but i bet they'll still be saying "I-O" after someone in the distance yells "O-H."

nonetheless, great lakes in cleveland made something fantastic they call christmas ale. i don't know how they did it, but they bottled an adult sort of nostalgia... that makes you wanna be a kid again and see a lot of lights and gifts marked to you and less alcoholic things. anyway... it ushers in all the trappings of this season in a glass. i don't know how you do it, great lakes, but you did. kudos to you. i'm a couple glasses/bottles in, but i think i'll have another. i'll also hang a stocking and hope for that jolly old elf to stuff it. i might even pray that he will! neither of those things will happen, though... but look what you did, christmas ale! you made me wish i was younger and a bit more naive! good work, great lakes. :)

merry christmas. cheers.

-a

rumple minze

2010-10-20T01:41:00.001-07:00

i am gonna do shots of rumple minze with my coffee tomorrow.

that feels like a blog to me.

it also feels right.

night!

-a

lights

2010-10-16T00:26:00.001-07:00

bright, white, 75w, hopeful, intrusive.

I come home after work and nate has them on. All of them. Hall way ones. Living room ones. Random kitchen ones. My ears are typically still ringing and I see lights all night long and I don't wanna see them anymore. I don't want them to really shine on anything I already know exists in my apartment. The apartment is filled with things I haven't been successful at getting rid of and particle board. It consists of trinkets and knick-knacks that I haven't the heart to dispose of despite my adamant attempts at being non-sentimental. (I checked the thesaurus. There isn't an adequate antonym for sentimental.) I don't even wanna hear music for 15 minutes after I get home. Sometimes 20. silence is golden? no. silence, after turning out the lights, reminds you of who you are and what you have left and who hasn't deceived you and why you're still breathing. That's not golden, I don't think. However, these are important things to reflect upon if you hadn't done it yet that day. It also reminds you of the fact that you're eternally alone... even if you go to bed that night with someone else. The lights come through the windows whether you want them to or not though, you know? Unless you live in Montana. And they also emit from your electronic devices and you can't do a thing about that. This, too, reminds you of what you have and why you have those things and what kind of person that makes you. Or it should. It should.

I turned off all the lights except for the ones I can't quickly turn off. People should do this more often, I feel. This is the first blog I have had in quite some time. I feel alright about these thoughts. I have considered writing a blog every other day over the past few months. This one is gonna slip through the filter of what I feel is palatable for whoever might take the time to read it. I hope I was right. I will try to let some more get through... preferably not alcohol induced next time.

lights also happens to be a really beautiful and fascinating girl who is dating the drummer from a stupid christian band from dayton. this seems to be consistent with the theme of this blog. that's the only reason i bring it up.

my first blog

2009-06-21T21:28:00.000-07:00

alright, so check it. this is my first blog. i must say right off the bat, there's really not anything in particular i deem terribly important to share... so i can't help but thinking that all of this is going to be a lot of just useless and pointless rhetoric. reminds of me when i was in school writing term papers and filled the page with whatever i could think of to basically say the same thing over and over again yet making it seem like i wasn't. the art of bullshitting. :) at the same time, i feel as if i do this now and get into the habit of it, every once in awhile i might actually come up with something remarkable to say. so here we go. my first blog.

so i think people just talk about their lives and stuff on here, right? alright. well, for starters, my life has been incredibly hectic as of late. if i'm not running back and forth to nashville missing phone calls and texts along the way, then i'm working on music or working down at the club. either way, i'm always doing something from the time i wake up until the wee hours of the morn. i guess the only real time i get to relax is after a show with a bottle of sam. wow. that's one of the most pathetic things i've ever shared.

alright. should i share something else? this doesn't seem long enough. um. alright, i like pizza. namely, frozen pizza. recently i've been consuming an exorbitant amount of frozen pizza. my god. does my life sound sad or what. i swear to god, it really isn't! i'm having a great time! can't i select a mood or something on here like you can on myspace? hmm... let's see... how about a quote?

"It's four o'clock in the morning, dammit/Listen to me good/I'm sleeping with myself tonight/Saved in time, thank God my music's still alive"

so there you have it. my first blog. i blogged. that was a blog. i don't like the word, "blog." but behold, here it is. i punched out a few paragraphs, i quoted a line from a somewhat familiar pop song, i conveyed my mood and hinted at just a tinge of loneliness. yeah, this looks like a blog to me. profound? maybe not. but if you, too, are a bit lonely then maybe i've inspired you to make my blog a frequent haunt when it's after midnight and you're sleep deprived and you've got nothing else to do but seek out meaning and understanding thru the means of the great social disconnect we call the internet. i gotta say, you probably won't find it here. but if you're still reading this, then thanks. maybe you're a blogger too. so, here's to being up way too late and feeding our chronic narcissism with delusions like the one that encourages us to share our inner most thoughts to a hidden audience and tells us that it means anything at all. and here's to trying. cheers.