“I have nothing to say and I am saying it.”

the '62 reissue, somewhere in Seattle. Photo by Ian Weintraub.

…as John Cage said.

So with that in mind, instead of writing a million more pages of words, like I did last time, I’m just going to put links to recent music here for you folks to peruse.

Here’s the latest, a number of etudes based on playing with echo and reverb. Each is one performance of a guitar track, no overdubs, with numerous different delays, pitch-tracked and these (sometimes incorrect) notes fed to synthesizers or electric pianos. Enjoy!

Here are my last few albums.
Shine Out, from last year.

and then All Attractions and Apricot Jam from 2012.

enjoy!

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Posted in Music

Not a tour diary.

tractor

I intended to write a tour diary of the Camper Van Beethoven shows with Cracker that we did on the West Coast and the East Coast between Christmas and the Martin Luther King Jr holiday weekend. But I didn’t.

The tour went well, most of the shows were sold out and we enjoyed ourselves immensely and saw many of our friends and fans.

But when i sat to write about it, I didn’t because I was constantly being pulled in two directions: in one I am amazed, in the other, horrified. We humans are incredible creatures, but in the end, nothing we can do now matters, because we are also terrible creatures who have destroyed our own ability to survive, and have done so by our own nature. We are probably at the end of our run. What should we do about it? Is there anything to do? We all have big conscious brains that are able to understand their own place in history, but we continue to act as if there is only next week. And maybe last week. And on top of this, we ignore the present moment in favor of the next one.

It’s a crisis of meaning, of what is important, of what meaning we can find in what we do now.

I went to see a show recently while in the Bay Area, when I had some time off between shows, people playing music. The first set was a band called “The Time Beings,” a clever pun. They had saxophone, bass and drums. They played what has to be called jazz, if only by the presence of sax and upright bass. The music was definitely coming from the jazz idiom, and the musicians were extremely good, Jon Raskin from ROVA, with Lisa Mezzacappa and Vijay Anderson on bass and drums. They went through some melodic pieces segueing into one another, some freer sections, solos, etc. At one point there was a drum solo and it was enhanced by added percussion from a homeless guy pushing shopping carts down the sidewalk outside, the venue door was open at the back of the room. I was carried along by the playing the whole time, amazed that human beings were making these sounds, coming into some sort of cohesive musical experience, making changes in air pressure at these frequencies in this room to tickle the cilia in our ears, the ears of no less than a hundred people. Human being were moving their hands and mouths, breathing and manipulating things that made sounds. It’s literally incredible. These beings were consciously doing this, changing the waves of air pressure with differing timbres at different frequencies.

I had nearly stopped hearing music and was just listening to the quality of the sounds. The last bit was a 9/8 slip-jig-like endless melody, with Jon’s sax sounding like a bagpipe, so that brought me back into hearing music as a set of melody and rhythm. I was there with Das and Univac, who are generally considered to be “noise” musicians, they heard this set as jazz, or more like the death of jazz, the last bastions of jazz as a cultural movement expressing itself, as somehow opposed to the second set which represented some other form of musical culture expressing itself, wherein Fred Frith played guitar, Jason Hoopes played bass and Jordan Glenn on drums. This band was much less tied to a specific idiom in which they improvised, but they were obviously informed by several. To begin with, they had an electric guitar and an electric bass, which stuck them fully into the latter 20th Century references, although some of the sounds they produced extrapolated from the instrument’s obvious tone into other areas. The bass, for example, sometimes sounded like an organ, and Fred uses his guitar as a percussion instrument as much as a melodic instrument. I again started veering into a perceptual world where I was hearing the ensemble as simply a collection of sounds as much as hearing it as music. I forgot what music was, I think: I was in a room with a hundred other human beings watching and listening to three people moving their hands and feet and consciously manipulating objects to produce sound waves. It was miraculous, these people could do this with their hands and feet. Perhaps even more miraculous was that not only were they doing this consciously, but that they may have been doing some of this unconsciously! Improvisors know this, I know this, it’s what happens when you are making music: you let the music play you, your hands just do what they know how to do and you can listen to it happen.

So here, in this room, the musicians were playing instruments and electronic pedals to produce sounds that somehow went together and people in the seats nodded and followed along, being subjected to the changes in air pressure that the speakers and the drums were producing in the room. It’s music. It communicates something, or rather, it allows a listener to feel that something is being communicated; there is no direct semantic transfer, but the producer of these waves and the receiver of these waves both feel something in the brain’s response to the sequence of auditory events. For the people here, this was pleasurable, as it is with most people who voluntarily listen to what they consider to be music. Das and Univac both enjoyed this set more than the first, I’m certain that there are many people who would say that the first set was music where the second set was not, or contained less “music” within it. I was still stuck on some edge of the ability to perceive any set of sounds as music, I was hearing everything as only sound-as-sound, though I did get pulled back when Fred played some more “normal” sounds on his guitar, the distorted lead guitar sound of melodic notes with bends and scales.

I like the sound of the electric guitar, we all know that. I can get pulled back into musicality by hearing it, the sound of an electric guitar playing melodic notes. That’s a conditioned response, I would guess, for me as a musician born in the 1960s, someone who started playing the electric guitar when they were a kid. It was interesting for me to note that the sound of it pulled me back into the normal world of the music listener in this context. I think that some listeners of avant-garde music who are strictly into “the new” or into how a musician could be “original” do tend to distrust idiom while trying to break out of idiomatic playing. The very sound of an electric guitar playing with distortion, single note lines, harkens back to idiomatic playing. Does that mean that this is a reference or a quotation? Or is it simply the unconscious conditioning of the player expressing itself while the player plays the instrument? When AMM started back in the 1960s, they had realized that they themselves, as white British players, couldn’t realistically be part of the jazz idiom, so they consciously chose to attempt to play non-idiomatic music. That’s a tough charter, as any instrument that you play comes with idiomatic baggage, and then any sound that you play has to be heard by the audience as music (as every sound can well be heard as, as Mr Cage made evident in the 1950s). And I know that many improvisors try their hardest not to be labeled as any sort of idiom, so they end up making a style of sound-based improvisation that ends up as its own idiom or genre. In the same way, there has been a wave of electronic music that tried to avoid anything that suggested “music,” such as beat or tone, so it ended up as drones of noise. A huge segment of Northern Europe fell into this world of sound, for a while I referred to it (privately) as GNEEM, or generic Northern European electronic music.

I’m personally not afraid of idiom, necessarily, and as an improvisor I’ve gone through numerous experiments within different genres or idioms, and lately have come back to playing electric guitar in the same way that so many people have since the 1960s: space rock, essentially. I still like the sound of somebody wailing on the electric guitar. Is that music?

In the 1960s, after Dada and Surrealism had brought the absurd to the screen of consciousness to play with the subconscious in the field of “art,” the abstract had become normalized, the absurd had become performance… After Fluxus, within the expanding world of freedom of expression and the freedom of the individual, people began to realize that anybody could simply label themselves an artist, and what they did as art. Process and performance art meant that, as Bruce Nauman pointed out, whatever the “artist” did in their “studio” was automatically art. It was because they said so. One might think that this was the fault of artists like Duchamp who positioned “readymades” as art in galleries or composers like John Cage who, by forcing the audience to hear their surroundings, pointed us in the direction of hearing all sound as music—is therefore everything art? Must there be an artist, even, whose intention or action make the “thing?” However, Duchamp, in his wisdom, pointed out that in fact art is the relationship of the piece to the audience: who is an artist, what is art, is something that in actuality is determined by posterity and not by the artist themselves.

It’s somewhat unfortunate that many of the ideas of self-proclaimed art these permeated western culture without Duchamp’s wisdom: by the time the 60s and 70s era of individualism hit the economic deconstruction of the 1980s, it paved the way for libertarianism, and worse: self-proclaimed expertise. The great thinkers and doers of the era started so many revolutions in technology that all panned out into what is now a society of self-appointed experts and an audience that can’t tell the difference between art and commerce. I am astounded every day by this, it’s reflected in every media. Sales prove validity, such that even “artists” such as Koons or McCarthy are considered to have been creative geniuses. Posterity should be interesting, in this respect. When my wife entered art school in Stockholm in the early 2000s as a sculptor, the entire academic course for art considered plastic arts to be old fashioned, that the ultra-modern was where the next generation of artists lay, doing video installation and performance art. It’s going to be funny when posterity tries to figure out the trends in art from this era because there won’t be anything extant for them to consider. (In fact, this entire era may be a second dark ages, when nothing saved on magnetic media survives nor anything digitally written exists in any format capable of being retrieved. This is assuming that somebody exists in the future to attempt a retrieval.)

When my wife came to live in California in the mid 2000s, she was greatly impressed by the people she met who introduced themselves as artists or musicians. Really!? You are an artist? That’s amazing, how impressive! Some time later, she realized that in fact, anybody could simply state such a thing regardless of their actual standing in society or the value or quality of their output. By the time I started being a professional musician (mid-1980s), we were already knee-deep in the late 1970s punk ethic of self-determination, and doing-it-ourselves. We could form bands, play shows, even record ourselves to a certain extent. This entire process got easier and easier and time and technology rolled along, until, as Steve Jobs put it, vis-a-vis the Apple Garageband application: “no talent is even necessary” to make music! We really won that revolution didn’t we?

Does that make it music, actually? Is it music because of the intentionality of the “composer,” or is it music because a potential audient hears it as such? Can any person even tell nowadays? Most people who have music in their lives in the modern era don’t even actively listen to it so much as hear it accompanying their activities of the day like their own little soundtrack. Naturally in such a case the development of the language of music and the quality of music itself will suffer, which for the most part has led to endless repeating of previously stated ideas, neo-retro-rock, electro, whatever. It’s sort of funny to me to hear current bands playing the exact same music that bands came up with in the 60s, 70s, 80s, 90s, etc. Especially such things as “Americana,” a genre that even some of the biggest artists in Sweden are now excelling at (e.g., First Aid Kit) when, at its essence what is it, even? Myself, I go for some recreation of psychedelia, I guess, mostly because I’m more interested in the mind-expansion than historical re-enactment or Live Action Role Playing, which is what dressing like a cowboy and playing country music or dressing like a “punk” and playing punk rock looks like to me. Admittedly the cowboy and the punk and I may all feel that we’re part of some ongoing tradition, that we are modern adherents continuing to expand the lineage of some specific genre, but which of us is living in the present? Any of us? Rockabilly yearns for that 50s era of cool, the period when the whole idea of teenage rebellion was first sold to consumers alongside cool cars and clothes. Punk gained its foothold as a political statement that very few bands even seem to grasp these days. Psychedelia, I imagine, tries to express that era when the feeling that anything was possible and what we did could further mankind. I still like that idea, though I fully admit to a soft spot for cool old cars and guitars as well.

Like Jaron Lanier’s assessment of the rise and fall of the beneficial aspects of the internet, we all had such high hopes for humanity only to be proven to that greed and individualism will reduce society to the lowest common denominator. It’s our way, isn’t it? The monkey can’t see beyond what’s right in front of its face. The self-destruction of all socialist and communist societies was always due to somebody wanting more for themselves. The self-destruction of the promise of digital utopianism is the greed of individualism and the libertarianism of the tech industry*. How can anybody believe anything that they read on the internet now, is the news real, is anything written as if it were true actually true? Are all the opinions presented as fact made real by simply saying so? Is the intentionality of saying so enough to grant authenticity? Is that all it takes to be the authority, to be the artist? So then, is music made by software indeed still music? Where is the intentionality, the composer’s hand, the artist’s brush moving along a canvas physically manipulating paint? Is it all just noises?

Have I stopped being able to hear sound as music, or have I suddenly switched over to hearing even music as just sounds? Because what happened to me in the concert situation, though I very much enjoyed listening to Fred and company, and The Time Beings, and enjoyed being in the room with the other hundred people also doing so, was that I predominantly heard sound. I couldn’t tell any more if anything was music, I was in a constant state of amazement that human beings were capable of moving their extremities, consciously for the most part, to intentionally make sounds together for other human being to hear. In real time, as the “time beings” were aptly pointing out by their band name: music happens over time, it proves itself in the 4th dimension. Music is time-based art. A piece of music defines a period of time. If it’s successful, it can even alter the listener’s perception of the passage of time.

So here is where this crisis came in. I wasn’t unhappy at being unable to understand music versus sound, I was particularly thrilled by the idea that people were utilizing their wills to intentionally make sound, but the big question was: what for? Why were they doing this? Why were all the other people experiencing this, perceiving this, and indeed voluntarily paying money and getting their physical bodies over to this room on Grand Avenue in Oakland to be in the same place? OK, I know that the basic answer is: for pleasure. And for some, curiosity (“Why do other people go to listen to these musicians? I have heard of these musicians before, what do they sound like? Is it a cool thing to be at a concert with these musicians?” etc., etc.) In the East Bay, these musicians are well known, essentially celebrities, though in this context that doesn’t really bring much money or status, just that they are known as able practitioners of what they do. Which is “music,” or experimental or avant-garde music, or new music, or outside music, or whatever you want to call it. It’s certainly not mainstream music, you don’t generally hear Jon Raskin or Fred Frith on the radio, unless you are tuned to a specific type of free-form station that treats its listeners to side-stream genres. But that in and of itself is not enough, is it? Or is it? Is this why, why these musicians made these sounds for these people? To assert themselves as willful individuals who consciously moved some air with different pressure levels, made these sounds that were very specifically not part of the mainstream nor part of what was globally considered popular in the world of music? That’s perhaps a goal, to identify your self by what you aren’t. Music is a point of identity, or at least it used to be—perhaps more than it is now. People really used to change the way that they dressed or that they appeared in order to match their chosen genre. They individually worked on their clothes and hair to make them into things that communicated punk, goth, hippie, whatever. I’m not certain I could state empirically what styles signify pop music nowadays when everything is purchased from the same companies and everybody has clothes and music that come from a limited set of outlets that are essentially ubiquitous.

So why do people make music anyway? Is there a point? Did we, as an audience, derive so much joy from being entertained by these human beings manipulating their devices that it was worth the time spent during our limited lives? Was it the sense of aesthetic enjoyment that imbued this situation with meaning, with a reason for being? And if I stopped hearing what was music in favor of just being able to hear sound, was I losing out on that aesthetic experience? Because I felt, even listening to just the sounds in the space, that it was incredible, and that feeling was as much motivated by the simple fact that people were intentionally making these sounds. I was in awe that people could do this. Awe is perhaps a viable aesthetic experience (it’s certainly worth the ten bucks entrance fee!) But perhaps I was also there as part of the scene, part of my sense of identity as a human being: I am at home with people who consider this offshoot of the definition of music as an enjoyable experience. I did see and hug and talk with several people whom I hadn’t seen or hugged for quite a while, I don’t live in this area anymore and I did for a decade. I do identify with this “scene” and its people.

But in a greater sense, why? There’s no meaning to it, is there, in any existential sense. We continue, we try not to die, and in the meantime we either go on with the second rule of life, “Make More,” and we replicate our genes, or we simply continue to try to fill up our waking hours with experiences that are on the whole more pleasing than not. So this is an experience that is more pleasing than not, for reasons of being aesthetically enjoyable, being comfortable or reaffirming our identities as members of a human culture, or, like I was at the time, being hyper-aware of the physical situation and marveling at its very occurrence.

I steer most of my intent toward making music, regardless of what it does for me or the world. That is to say, most of what I do or think about is the making of music, in some way or form. I play shows whenever I can, performing live with other people or alone. Lately this has been almost entirely the shows that I play with Camper Van Beethoven, which have been regularly occurring a few times a year in the United States, and only occasionally in other places. I live in Sweden, so I have performed here in Stockholm a couple times, but mostly that’s been with other people’s bands. I can’t seem to motivate myself to sell the idea of my own music to a foreign populace who could really care less if there’s somebody new playing some music in town. That’s generally the way of the world these days, there’s no cohesive thread among music listeners that would mean that they would be interested in attending or experiencing a new addition to the possibilities of live music unless they’ve been told about the new act enough by some media enough to make it seem worthwhile to put out the effort to attend a concert. In the previous decades when people did have very strong identity attachments to musical and personal styles, attending a concert of the appropriate style would be de rigeur: you were part of the culture that brought this band into existence. You would go to see a band just because they were on the same record label as a band you liked. You would listen to what the band was singing about and go and research it in your spare time, learning about the politics or references that they sung about, and these ideas entered your identity as well.

This is one of the reasons that the music that was listened to when you were in high school sticks with you, that was the prime era of your life for establishing your identity. A great majority of people do not in fact grow out of listening to the music that they listened to in high school or college, they just stop exploring at that point and do not seek to expand their repertoire, so to speak. Their identities are set.

There are people, of course, who continue to add new music to their experience and to grow their own aesthetic ideals and hence expand their identities. The purpose of art or culture is not utilitarian, the value of it isn’t easily quantified, but continuing to grow one’s identity in relation to new aesthetic experiences allows even more reference material to evaluate the good and bad in the world around you.

The music scene is not so much part of the transfer or accumulation of identity at the present time, though social media can have an impact on the valuation of an experience such as attending a concert, or the social value of doing so. Myself, I’m not part of a scene per se, (unfortunately), and I make music in a bunch of different idioms, so it’d be hard to pin me down as a signifier of some specific scene to identify with anyway. On the other hand, when Camper Van Beethoven gets together and plays, several hundred people come to the show and enjoy the music and the scene. I guess it’s “indie rock” or something, though many people see the band as the producer of one semi-hit song from college radio in the mid 1980s. That would be horrible if that were the only value we had ever given to the world, because one song is such a tiny portion of what we have done, and also because it happened now almost thirty years ago and we’re still at it. (We do actually play that song at almost every concert, though. Still trying to get it right!) Imagine living your life knowing that your one contribution to society happened when you were 20, and yet you continue to stick around trying to hit that mark again or better it. They say most of the math geniuses achieve their major breakthroughs before 30 and then never again after that, though physicists peak a little later. Rock music really tries to follow the youth-culture rules and rarely allows musicians to get older and maintain a career—at least in the independent music world. Though, realistically, I wonder what the high-money 1% performers will continue to do when they are over 30, as well.

So why continue? Who is it important to? It appears that it is at least important to A) the band members, enough to stumble through all of the travel and discomfort at our advanced ages to continue to tour and play, and B) the audiences that continue to stumble through the discomfort of getting out of their routine to go and attend a concert. These are ways of spending time, a concert takes a few hours of your life that you will never get back and gives you only memories. The memories, of course, are of a multi-sensory experience, ostensibly focused around music, that is to say, there are human beings on a platform who are moving their hands and feet and mouths in some way, together, potentially in temporal sync (if all goes well), to produce a loud set of complicated sound waves that emit from speakers that move the air in an analog of these waveforms such that the audience both hears and feels the waves of air pressure and see the people making these waveforms. It sounds like something, it feels like something, it looks like something. It probably also smells like something and maybe it tastes like something, but usually people don’t go that far; that might tip the balance of the pleasing aesthetic experience toward some other direction.

Big deal. So it’s extremely important! It’s also completely meaningless.

It’s extremely important to me, it’s all I do. When I’m not on tour, I spend a lot of time working on recording or mixing sounds and music, in hopes that people will listen to it at some point and enjoy that experience as much as I enjoy the process of recording and mixing and perfecting the sounds, sculpting the sounds into a specific set piece. It seems important to me to do this, to solve these little puzzles of potential arrangements of waveforms, each little bit changing the overall set to move air pressure in a room or in your ear canal in a certain specific way. That’s what I do, that’s what I have done all my life, that’s what I trained to do, learned about, practiced, and taught.

When I was growing up, music was so important to me, but not only to me: it was seemingly as important to everybody. People listened to music, they examined it, lived it. Of course things are very different nowadays, there are a lot of people who have written about the changes in technology and culture that precipitated and developed the current societal status of art and music, wherein music is an accompaniment to every other action, understood as simply existing. Of course, to some extent people still pick and choose which music will be accompanying their activities, but the dedicated listening and development of meaning and identity attached is waning. The comeback of the LP is good for that area, though, as it takes more effort to interact with vinyl records, and you listen to 20 minutes per side, in a somewhat more conscious way than simply hearing the music that is your background for everything else you do, that’s just there in your earbud. Additionally, the interest in the very idea of the LP shows a concerted effort to acquire said LPs, which means willful intent, which means it is part of the listener’s identity that they are such a person who dedicates time and effort to doing so. The identity feature may be that the listener is interested in a higher quality aesthetic or interactive experience, although it may also mean that they want to establish that their identity is similar to the type of person who listens to LPs, i.e., their identity contains signifiers that value the aesthetic nature of listening to vinyl records of music.

What does that identity entail, then? What is its place on the planet Earth? When my scientist mom asked me about why music existed evolutionarily, it was pretty obvious for me to answer that it was just colorful feathers. If you followed rule #1, “Don’t Die,” then the next rule is still “Make More.” So if you’re not dead, you have to spend your time living, and the impetus, whether followed through upon or not, is reproduction. So, yeah, a lot of folks are into music in order to fuck, or rather, in order to find the right person to fuck. You could consider any art to be an attractor, you could consider any scene created around that attractor to be a specific gene pool. All frogs that chirp like this, go to your specific mating pond, please. The pursuers of high art may be thinking of adding to the overall progress of human culture (or not) but they are also singing a song that attracts the proper mate. Thinking of this with the dimension of time, where all art adds to a continuum of culture means seeing down that spiral to both find one’s antecedents and project the hopeful development of human thinking, human consideration and ability to perceive, discern, judge the relative aesthetic and human values of everything that they are presented with. In other words, continuing a genetic line that includes placing importance upon certain types of aesthetics indicates an intent at shaping the human species to be informed by the experience of aesthetics in their actions while extant on the planet.

For example, the hippies, or at least the adherents of psychedelia, that adopted rock music in the 1960s and helped along both the identity of music and culture into the 1970s felt like they were coming out of a repressive society, so they wanted to express their identities with freedoms, free speech, free love, etc. Free jazz, for example, could really be considered to be a part of the civil rights movement as the struggle for freedom of expression was a very serious issue in black communities within the United States of the 1950s (and continues to be.) And in the 1960s people took these some of these ideas even further (albeit perhaps with pharmacological aids) and expressed some pretty far out humanitarian ideas with the far out musical accompaniment. The bands, of course, like the hippies, varied in their depth. Some wrote directly about things, some just expressed loud music as its own intrinsic freedom. Some were overtly political or sung of things that expressed changes that could happen in society, some just played loudly to express power or made music that expanded the ideas of form and perception in order to “open minds,” because the entire idea of opening one’s mind to consider new ideas was considered important. I consider it important still.

But here’s the thing: many of these people thought about themselves in relation to the Earth, and to the universe, in ways that people had either been too busy or repressed to think much about before, and they started to embrace some of these aspects of their new identities into the way they lived. It seemed silly to the public at large, at first, to, for example, recycle things in one’s garbage. Or to be a vegetarian. Or an environmentalist—Dr Seuss’ “The Lorax” came out in 1971, you know. Or, more to the point, a computer programmer. Most of the technological ideas that developed in the 1960s and 70s are the things we take for granted as normal technology today, and these guys had some pretty far out ideas. It’s no coincidence that what is considered to be Silicon Valley now was the same place that the Grateful Dead came from. Talking books, or a computer book? A hand held device to point and click on things on a screen? Digitizing media, moving it away from a physical substrate? A computer that you could talk to…? These ideas were pretty far out in the 1970s of course. It just took a while for them to come to fruition…and from there to change the world.

In the process, though, society and culture changed. Living in California, it was really obvious immediately after the passage of Proposition 13 in 1978, a taxpayer revolt started by a rich consortium playing on people’s natural tendencies to dislike being taxed in general. The initiative dropped property taxes, especially for business property. It gutted the public schools in the state, dropping the quality of schooling in California from one of the best in the US during the 1960s and 70s to now one of the worst (48th out of 50…) It also gutted libraries and city services. Then Reagan was elected in 1980 and did roughly the same thing to the country in general, and since then the US has undergone a series of governments that have provided a healthy business environment for the rich, less taxation for the rich and generally destroyed a functional existing civil infrastructure as well as gutting education and the arts in such a way that the general populace doesn’t even know how to think anymore. And why would they? They’re badly educated and desperate, trying to stay alive and acquire the things that are dangled in front of them that they must own to be part of modern society. Why should your average American citizen be bothered about thinking about expanding the nature of aesthetics, making an attempt to understand or enjoy music or art outside of their comfort zone, let alone considering their impact upon the planet at large? How could they even know about their impact when they aren’t provided with knowledge about it nor the cognitive abilities to extrapolate their little lives upon the whole of the human race? Nobody thinks about that when they’re simply trying to survive. A stressful life means a narrower focus, and it makes it much easier to manage the populace, to steer them to considering only specifically presented data or goals. It stymies critical thinking.

And it worked, of course. Recent research indicate that the populace in general is at odds with scientific thinking in numerous subjects, including climate change, genetic modification of crops, vaccination, and of course religion. Scientists are experts in their fields, that is literally what a scientist becomes. But now when anybody on the internet can also claim to be an expert, the role is devalued to such an extent that it has become meaningless. Why listen to experts that you don’t want to hear? Plus, it’s not cool: it’s so easy to discount those “eggheads” when they’re just nerds, isn’t it? The cult of cool has been resurrected and sold to us again, just like it was in the 1950s, when scientists had essentially won the war with their inventions of nuclear arms and cryptography, playing with and devaluing the lives of the common soldiers. Can’t trust those eggheads, they’re not like “normal” folks. To be a real American was to be a soldier, not a scientist.

Teachers ever since have been trying desperately to make learning “cool.” The glorification of the nerd in the recent TV storylines almost works, though invariably they are computer workers, which is basically like being a modern mineworker: the company bosses still reaps the benefits of the programmer’s overtime. The cool hackers of early 90s VR-style plot lines are as fake as James Bond, I’m sorry to say. Maybe some kids have actually received an education along the way toward the commodification of their outsider status, but rarely has that been anything other than a narrow training, no wider array of subjects that might allow them to gain the skills required to be a citizen of their country or of the world, to discern right and wrong and open their minds to the multitudes of aesthetic and natural experience. Just keep writing that app, kid.

The problem is that it’s all probably too late to do anything about it, it may be too late to stave off imminent collapse of not only our current society but potentially the collapse of a viable biosphere for us to live in.

Humans are amazing. It’s such an intensely miraculous happenstance that we exist at all, that we exist on terms that allow us to consider that we exist, for me to write these words down that other humans can read and understand as being reflective. The current state of astronomy points out to us how rare planets like ours might be, how startlingly complex the balance of the thousands of variables might be to establish a temperate climate that could sustain life such as ours, the narrow temperature range that we live in, the chemical makeup of our atmosphere, even the presence of water. It’s mind boggling. Why people aren’t amazed by the presence of a living thing at every moment is beyond me. This awe probably allows some people to believe in god.

If you are familiar with the Anthropic Principle, it’s even more mind boggling: the idea that the entire physical universe is such that, it is not only the only way that it is possible to have life, but also that our ability to see and measure the way that the physical universe is is consistent with our own consciousness. In other words, the more we measure the physical universe, the more we see that there is no other possible way that it could have been that would still allow us to exist to observe it. The very laws of nature are consistent with the ability to form or hold life. If the big bang had had a sequence that were slightly slower (by even one part in a hundred thousand trillion, says Stephen Hawking), it would have contracted upon itself before anything could have formed instead of continuing along expanding at the critical rate that it is doing so to allow the formation of primary stars that subsequently collapse and explode creating heavier elements strewn about the universe, that then condense into later star systems that now have the critical ingredients that could manufacture carbon based life like ours. In fact, even on a subatomic level, the mass of quarks is such that it appears to be fine tuned toward allowing the creation of atoms that combine to form carbon and oxygen from nucleosynthesis within stars. The Anthropic Principle is tautological, of course, in that we exist and observe that we exist, so all of our measurements of our existence are true, i.e., if life exists then life must be able to exist. Some versions of the principle say that the universe must be such that it allows the creation of observers within it, or that it must have been designed to allow life.

Again, this would seem to allow people to believe in a god or creator. That’s idiotic, and I mean that in the etymological sense of the idiot: living in their own little world (or idiom). Consider the psychological diagnosis of borderline personality disorder: a patient has a rich idea of the structure of the world that they have manufactured subjectively, and then they choose to project their interior world’s structure upon the exterior objective world such that they see the exterior world in terms of their own constructed interior explanation. We consider these people to be at odds with objective reality. Believing that there is some god is the same, that your internal idea is somehow present in the objective world. It’s literally insane. And going a step further to believe that some ubiquitous creator or designer is somehow aware of an individual person or their thoughts or deeds is the height of arrogance in the believer. And then to behave in such a way to other living beings as if you had some knowledge or authority based on some relationship to a fictional consciousness is sociopathic. And some people even think that they can converse with this being.

If some conscious creator had manufactured our physical universe on such a level that it allowed the creation of life after 10 billion years, the very idea of that tiny life being capable of interacting with that creator is ridiculous beyond scale. We can’t even comprehend a billion years, much less make any sort of cohesive statement that transcends that much time. As individuals we would be less than an electron in an atom in a molecule in a corpuscle of blood in your body trying to petition your mind with prayer. Saying what? “Stop smoking! It’s making things bad down here!”

And yet, our modern world is still pathologically diseased by religion and religious thought. It causes more harm and bloodshed than nearly any other intentionality among human beings. “God help us in our war against these heathens!” If the religious were as awed by life as their religion’s originators were, we might actually progress. The very fact that there are many religions proves that none of them are correct: they each say theirs is the one true religion. No actual conscious deity would allow that. The fact that people have justified war, killing or even any harm to any living thing is proof that humans have manufactured gods and religions simply to justify their own actions. Trying to understand the actual physical makeup of the universe doesn’t seem to have the same result, hardly anybody tries to kill anybody for attempting to confirm or deny the standard model of particle physics (As far as I know.)

I could see being enthralled with the inherent wonder of life or overwhelmed at the sheer enormity of the physical universe. Even perhaps in some sacred or spiritual sense, though adding the element of a god-like or cosmic consciousness crosses the line into “eye of the beholder”. But when you start adding in any human beings, prophets or whatever, it’s definitely crossed the line into bullshit, especially when the believers deify these guys and kill people when they think somebody isn’t being respected.

Why are humans so violent and superstitious? I guess we’re just new to being conscious, it hasn’t been that long in the scheme of things. Imagine if people had a conscious grasp of the passage of time, imagine if, instead of developing as wary animals who were continuously trying to determine what was happening now, using our big brains that learned to evaluate events to predict some nominal immediate future from what we perceived, that we used our big brains to evaluate longer periods of time. Imagine how human societies would behave if everybody had a constant grasp of not only the immediate (though perhaps specious**) present, but saw this moment as a continuum of the past and how it affected the future. What if you considered your actions on a time scale of several weeks in either direction, or several months. Would that change what you ate or how you behaved? What if you considered several years backward and forward, or several decades.

What if people thought about everything that they did in terms of centuries, of many generations of people. You yourself, as an individual, are less important than the entire lineage of your family, or your species. How would you use what natural resources are available to you? Would that change your relationship to your food, to your use of land, to the impact that you have on the environment? Would it change how businesses used natural resources on your behalf, as a consumer? Do we still have time to even consider these things?

A friend of mine, Edie Winograde, is an artist who now lives in Denver. She’s a photographer. She’s been making large format photographs for gallery showings for years that capture events in the American West, some of them are of historical reenactments of things that happened in the western states during the past 200 years. For example, a reenactment of some massacre of white pioneers or Native Americans in the middle of the 1800s in Wyoming, or something like that. Human actions, and then humans recreating the actions in a theatrical way (not actually killing each other, that is). The event happened many years ago, it happens again in the same place. It’s like seeing through time. It’s also like viewing Baudrillard’s precession of simulacra!

I was at her studio again recently to look at a new series that she’s working on, she’s not sure exactly where it’s heading, but it’s a similar idea. This set, however, is mostly landscapes, things in the Southwest that have been there for millions of years, the gorgeous geological formations of the canyons and rocks. But, in each photograph there is evidence of modern humans, either a tourist waving somewhere, or a jet’s contrail in the sky, or some such evidence. Again, it’s like seeing through time. There is one that is a beautiful portrait photograph of the White House Ruins, a pueblo at Canyon De Chelly, a thousand-year-old man-made habitation carved into the cliffs. Taking a photograph of this structure at this point in time not only juxtaposes the time frames of man and rock—the man-made structures are ancient to us, yet so incredibly recent to the rocks they were carved out of—but it also contains the knowledge of more recent technological history in which famous early photographers captured this very structure. And here, in this most recent of photographs wherein the artist is preserving the images of things from vastly disparate historical eras, is a modern woman in the frame wearing her hiking clothes, snapping a picture as well. A tourist is there, a living human being, in the presence of the ruins of ancient human beings, the ruins of human dwellings, evidence of human activity where they performed their will by means of carving a rock that had been there for about fifty-million years. The people that came there and carved the hillside probably came about 10,000 years ago, migrating after the last ice age, maybe 500 generations ago. Here’s one of them now!

Human beings, or rather our species, homo sapiens, have been around for maybe a couple hundred thousand years at most, leaving Africa at various points in time in the past 50,000 years. These various migrations to different continents and parts of the world are the origins of what we consider racially different characteristics, yet all part of the same species. Dogs are the same species as each other, and that species contains even more wildly different characteristics than humans in its different breeds, but people still consider them all to be dogs…yet, still many people somehow hold onto some idea that different breeds of human are different. It’s odd, and it’s essentially superstitious thinking. Yes, there are numerous ways to become a conscious human being, and a different language will wire your brain to think in a different way with respect to the signified and the signifier, but we’ve all got the same hardware to begin with.

I live in Sweden, where recent elections have given a small percentage of the government representation to a group of people who are basically racists who somehow believe that they are more important as Swedish citizens than people immigrating to Sweden from war-torn areas in North Africa or the Middle East. Are they more important, are the resources that they control more important? Are they futilely trying to fight larger human migration patterns?

The reason people emigrate to Sweden is because the Swedes have had an open asylum policy for years, based on the humanitarian reasoning that if they themselves had a decent living situation and elsewhere there were people who were threatened by war or oppression, they could not simply stand by and allow those threatened people to be harmed. It’s an admirable stance, and commendable. However, as the rest of the world continues to create unrest and war, more and more people who simply want to stay alive are forced into migration. Sweden itself is no innocent, some of the largest money making corporations manufactured munitions for wars, including all of those going on in the Middle East***, which of course precipitates the immigration problems faced by the country now that the resources can’t handle the number of immigrants. (I should point out that Sweden’s domestic problems weren’t helped at all by having a “moderate” right wing government for 8 years who privatized many of the things that the state used to pay for by taxation, including many social programs for immigrants. So they let the people arrive, but then didn’t help them out. This led to disenfranchised and isolated immigrant communities that remained outside of Swedish culture, which led to unrest, which led to racist backlash. Nobody seemed to be able to use their big people-brains to predict that.)

The monkey doesn’t do well with long-term. The monkey that we still are in so many respects just lived from moment to moment, even though our big people-brains have to ability to cogitate and consider the future and the past and the ability to think in a continuum of time, it escapes our day to day understanding of the world around us; we would have to actually stop and think instead of doing whatever we’re doing. And the modern world keeps your attention occupied, all day and all night. No time to reflect. It’s very literally driving us insane.

Norman O. Brown posited that if Freud had anything useful to contribute to understanding human nature, it was that we repress our animalistic urges in order to maintain civilized conduct, and that fucked us up. In other words, since the very beginnings of civilization, say, agricultural communities, we have been suppressing certain behaviors, and as time went on and civilization became more and more ornate with more and more rules of conduct and decorum, we were forced to suppress more and more. Societies developed their own sets of order, how to control the populations’ behaviors by means of rules and force, and then by religious doctrine and sets of taboos. And living in a state of constant repression has made us insane.

Even now, in the beginning of the 21st Century, we are continuously fighting each other over, for example, sexual taboos. Why is this at all important? And people kill each other over ideas of religion, something that I have already said is nearly identical with psychological disorder. It’s because we, as a species, are insane due to having to repress so much of our naturalistic behaviors while trying to behave such that we interact in a way that seems to be cohesive. Stupid monkeys.

And yet, we are able to think, aren’t we? I’m writing down all these ideas, they are reflective and can be understood. Let’s consider the history of our ideas of government, for instance, something that we as a species realized was necessary to keep order within the groups of monkeys who were otherwise occupied all day long with trying to stay alive and then trying to make more. The “more” got subverted, of course, by money—that brought a whole new slew of problems, many of which negate the entire idea of government in the end anyway! But the idea of government was obviously to create some relatively controlled system that allowed for lots of people to live together. People considered all sorts of things, we’ve gone through numerous versions from dictatorships to consensus-based democracies. And all sorts of things in between.

The problem once again, of course, is that people just disregard the efficacy of governmental systems in favor of greed. Greed rules, and controls governments. The whole neo-liberal/libertarian notion skews the rhetoric into glorifying some sort of “every man for themselves” vision, which basically subverts the entire idea of having a government to begin with. Waves of privatization of formerly government facilities have changed over the functionality of them from operating for the benefit of the governed populace into operating based on a profit-or-loss bottom line. It’s a ridiculous way to operate something that is supposed to be for the benefit of the populace.

I had a discussion about this recently, I was talking about the fact that the US right wing seems to want to shut down the post office. In favor of what? Private delivery companies? So, we’d pay FedEx prices to deliver a letter? That sounds pretty bad. In Sweden, the moderates, who are economically a right wing group, did in fact privatize the post office during their 8 years of governmental control from 2006-2014. It’s a fucking mess. Whatever private firms picked up the contracts couldn’t afford to run it at a profit, so they shut down several substations and moved the infrastructures for larger areas into one crowded substation, fired numerous people, etc. The delivery system is flawed now, and especially for those of us who need to send things to ourselves from outside of the country, it’s extremely difficult. Why? Because the purpose of the post office is no longer to deliver the mail. The purpose of the post office now is, like any business, to make money, or at the very least to stay afloat. The bottom line is what keeps them going, and after that they get to think about how to get the mail delivered. Is this what we, as a group, want from group services? That some private company should be in charge of things that are ostensibly in place for the good of all citizens. And the wait times at the doctor’s office now…?

There is a reason why people developed government to begin with, right? To ensure the well-being of the populace. So when people call for less government, they are basically saying, “At the expense of the citizenry, I wish to make more money.” Or, more realistically, “I wish for some immensely rich private citizen to be able to control the government’s regulation of trade such that this private person can be even richer,” because that money really is not going to flow to very many people. The term “liberal” in terms of governing initially (classically) meant relaxation of government regulation and control of trade, allowing any sort of trade to make them money, regardless of the morality or legality. Like the importation of slaves, for example. Or the sale and transport of oil or weapons. I, personally, would prefer that the government regulated these sorts of things to the point of shutting them down entirely. In modern terms in the US, that actually would make me “liberal,” which sort of shows you how malleable and useless such a word is. The old meaning of liberal is now known as libertarian, perhaps, or neo-liberal in Europe. The people who subscribe to these sorts of ideologies are basically not giving a shit about the public-at-large, so long as they get what they want. That’s a basic human instinct, even maybe a basic animal instinct. They certainly aren’t trying to envision the continuation of society, of humanity. They certainly aren’t reflecting on the state of culture and economics and how it might continue, the goal is their own bottom line. And, presumably, the welfare of their offspring, one would think, right?

However, without a healthy society, they will have no healthy situation for their own lineage. Certainly as they maintain a selfish sense of personal profit, it is not only done so at the expense of the rest of the citizens, but at the expense of the environment that we live in. People who work for large companies that make their money from things that destroy the Earth aren’t even really able to look beyond their own paycheck, they’re so stressed about simply surviving. So it goes on and on and the environment suffers more and more, while some cadre of top executives make a ton of money and everybody else involved gets to continue to survive. My question is: how do the people in control of these juggernauts of capitalism think it’s going to work out, for them or their families? Do they actually believe that something good is going to be there for them at the end of the day, when the entire world is irretrievably set on a path to collapse? Are they willfully sentencing their offspring to live in a more difficult world, or do they somehow believe that their wealth will stave off the horrors of a societal or environmental collapse? I suppose the richest could be setting up gated communities in the arctic or antarctic—these may be the only places that humans could survive in the coming centuries. How fun that will be! If the human race survives, they could have two separate groups who are only vaguely aware of the other, living at antipodes of the planet. It would make for a decent science fiction series if it weren’t so imminently probable and horrific.

Do you yourself consider the news you receive on the state of the environment of our planet? Admittedly it’s tough to wrap one’s head around, and there are no definitive summaries. It’s a very complex system isn’t it? Consider the search for exoplanets in our immediate galaxy. There are lists of a huge number of them, we’ve determined that many, many solar systems have planets, we’ve mapped about a thousand so far. And as I alluded to earlier, maybe three out of these thousand are considered “earth-like,” which is to say that they lie in a particular habitable zone (the “Goldilocks Zone,” not to hot and not too cold), or they may have liquid water. These things that determine habitability are very much temperature dependent: we live in a very narrow temperature band! We humans can survive in temperatures that go from a little below the freezing of water to maybe halfway to its boiling point. We’re made of water, of course, as are most of the other living things on the planet. Some things, some bacteria, have adapted to other, harsher environments found on the planet, highly sulfurous or high temperature areas, for example. It’s unlikely that the majority of our planet’s life could adapt to these environments!

On top of this, even if you extrapolate the number of mapped planets onto the rest of the area of the galaxy or even further, where you might find a billion planets in this similar habitable zone, there is the additional problem of the fact that large stars collapse and release long gamma ray bursts, which can easily wipe out any nearby planet’s life in a matter of seconds, and planets further from the source could have their ozone layers destroyed, causing mass extinctions if fauna or flora had developed in some equilibrium of temperature and weather over the previous numerous millions of years. These things happen every day out in our galaxy, we just happen to be in a less dense area of stars. Its possible that our planet was hit at some point in the previous four billion years, but certainly not that recently. It’s possible that it was a cause for one of our five known mass extinctions, the Cambrian-Ordovician one about 488 million years ago. In other words, we’re lucky to be where we are and when we are in our galaxy.

Our planet is incredibly unique, and I mean that in the literal sense: it is hard to believe that such a balance of temperature and elements could exist in such a balance for such a long time as to allow the evolution of life, much less life that is conscious, much less life that is self-conscious. The odds are astronomical, again: literally. This planet has done a lot of growth and changing in the past billion years, but it settled into a relatively balanced set of motions that it goes through in the past number of millions. We homo sapiens separated our lineage from other apes a few million years back but really didn’t come into our own until after that point around 50,000 or so years ago when we started migrating out of Africa. By the last ice age, maybe 17,000 years ago, we’d moved all over the world and began to directionally select for our specific genetic variations in specific areas.

And we would continue doing so, if we could, wouldn’t we? Now we have numerous genetic traits that have been selected for over the previous tiny little lengths of time, only measured in tiny thousands of years, even. We have physical and mental traits selected for in every base racial type, and in the past couple hundred years, immigration, forced and otherwise, has been aided by technology, and now people containing genetic racial characteristics from anywhere on the planet have the ability to live anywhere else on the planet, and mix. People are still racist, though, which, like being religious, is simply prejudice and ignorance all hyped up by fear. People are people, for the most part, and while they’re pretty much all the same, they get stressed by people that are unfamiliar to them. People even get stressed by strangers within their own cultural or societal milieu. People have been stressed by civilization and overpopulation so much that they are xenophobic by norm.

That’s a little sad for those of us that really were hoping for the Star Trek utopia, or some sort of human race, wherein all people were just some blend of any possible human racial characteristics. To go even further, maybe we could have made it to some sort of post-scarcity society where people didn’t have to be stressed by having or not having anything, to explore the world or universe with the full attention they could give to doing so. I saw the Apollo moon landing on TV when I was 6, so I naturally assumed that science and exploration were going to continue apace and we were on track to a brighter science fiction future. What a let down! How are we ever going to explain ourselves to the aliens that arrive?

We were coming up the hillside after hiking down into the valley a ways, though we didn’t go all the way down to the bottom of the ravine between the Skyline crest and the coastal crest. There was a middle crest coming up from the south, we got to a point where we had a pretty good view over the valley. As far as I could tell, there was no evidence of people on these hills, beyond the existing paths or dirt roads. We ran into deer a few times, single (and limping), or several together. We had hiked on several trails that were ostensibly open to mountain bikers, though we saw none, and then got to some where they were apparently prohibited. I thought about the impact of bicycles—somehow even just that little bit more than the impact of people just walking through the environment. There were no sounds beyond the crunching of our feet on the trail and our breathing, and when we were talking. I heard no birds.

When we looked out over the valley between the ridges, it was all trees. We knew that over the western ridge it went down all the way to Highway 1 and the Pacific Ocean. Here in the middle areas between Skyline Boulevard and that last ridge line, there was nothing. Jed told me about a guy he had met who had claimed to have camps set up out in these woods, where no other people ever went, where he couldn’t be found…just in case, you know. I’m sure there are millions of acres of deserted landscape all over the planet, but it is odd to think that a 45-minute drive from San Francisco, or maybe 20 minutes from Silicon Valley could find you in such wilderness. There were signs at the trailhead telling us what to do if we encountered a mountain lion.

The flora in this area was very Californian, the kind I have been familiar with all my life: grassy hills, large groves of oaks moving into pine forest. Many shades of green, lighter on the ground, then getting darker in the taller trees until the pines appeared almost blue on the other side of the valley. Above us, the sky was gray with a low-hanging overcast sea of clouds that prevented the sun from cutting through, though maintained the early January temperature at above 60ºF, though again, there was no wind. The layer of clouds over us was still and flat and low and covered the sky. On the other side of the coastal ridge, it looked like there may be some sunlight breaking through, but then more clouds above the sea. It was impossible to discern any line between the sky and the sea, it was all a blend of gray lines. We came out from under the lichen-covered oaks and rounded a looping single track trail up across a long hillside. There was a bench next to the trail to overlook the valleys.

We sat down. It was completely still. Eerily still, actually, no wind, no birds, no fog rolling in over the coastal ridge, something that anybody on the peninsula has seen happen nearly every day: as the temperature inland cools, the hot air rises in the central valley and pulls the fog in from over the sea, it rolls over the peninsula ridges like a heavy white cloud creeping over the peaks and then rolling down into the towns. We looked at each other and remarked on this, that we could hear our ears ring, it was so quiet****.

Is this a new weather pattern? I’m over 50, I had lived in California for 45 or so of those years, almost entirely in Northern California, Davis, Santa Cruz or San Francisco, and I’d hiked in these and many similar trails, and I had never experienced this sort of stillness. Was something going to happen? Earthquake weather, perhaps? Or just a strange lull in pressure zones?

Jed had been talking about reading essays by climate scientists, and of the ways in which they were breaking the information to the public at large, in bits and pieces. He said he was waiting for the news to finally announce that we had a zero percent chance of surviving, just when they’d finally break that on the TV stations. How would that finally impact our society? Would anybody listen when the news told us that we’re fucked, we’re well and truly fucked. There may be no way back, to be able to re-right any of the balances that we’ve skewed, some unknown assembly of variables among the zillion or so that allowed our equilibrium of weather and temperature to settle to this specific narrow range within which we live. It took how many billions of years for the planet to get settled into the equilibrium that it had in the past few hundred million that did allow life to emerge, to say nothing of the recent tens of thousands such that we became people. We had a decent run, I guess.

My brother joked with me about the much-heralded emergence of Artificial Intelligence that, well, maybe it was time for humans to go extinct. This was based on the idea that if we managed to create an artificial mind, it would quickly manage to create itself better, and so on, such that we humans would be both superfluous and undesirable. I think the whole idea is suspect, of course, as is the quest for the singularity in which machines can equal humans in mind, which would necessarily imply that we could free our minds from our physical bodies and upload ourselves into similar machines, and then essentially choose to live in artificial environments as well, if we wanted. That follows due to the idea that if all input is somehow transduced to be understood by a non-organic mind, then all input can also be non-organic—in other words, what is real is what is perceived as real. So if your mind lives in a mechanical substrate, you could live in any idea of environment you wanted to and feel and perceive it as being real. What luxury! We probably can’t get there fast enough, however, before the “real” real environment ceases to be able to host our physical bodies.

Many scientists are trying to come to terms with the lack of action in dealing with the climate changing on our planet. Why isn’t everybody up in arms about this? How can governments even continue to think about things other than the ultimate survival of the planet, to say nothing about our little species? We’ve already knocked out 200 other species in recent history, but people continue to march on as if it was our right and manifest to do as we wished without regard to consequence. Because we’re the people! Anything we do is our right as people, because that’s what we are. Self-appointed masters of the planet, top of the food chain, the apex of the hierarchy. Right? Because we are the artist, anything we do is art. Because we manifest our intention, because we have the will to manifest, we are prime. Because Mark Mothersbaugh can sculpt a soft-serve ice cream out of the world’s largest ruby, he must do so.

Of course there are alternate published articles that correlate the various solar cycles with normal rises and falls of temperature on the planet, and with the ~100,000 year cycle of greenhouse gas levels. These claim that our current projection of the warming trend is a continuation of a recent upswing of the sums of several normal smaller sinusoidal motions of temperature variation. That is to say, the cumulative power of the somewhat sinusoidal patterns of ups and downs of the de Vries and Seuss solar cycles (which are similar to the 11 year solar maximum cycle of radiation levels, but in 1000- and 250-year cycles) combined with some normal sea temperature 60-year cycles have created an upswing in temperature from 1970 to now, and the belief here is that our current understanding that we are experiencing a continuing warming trendis only a projection of this recent upswing into the near future. The result, to these studies, is that what we call Global Warming is not at all anthropogenic in nature and is the result of normal cycles, and the temperature of our planet will follow the pattern back down in the coming decades. However, they are equating radiative energy levels from the sun with temperature, when the radiation emitted isn’t necessarily in heat, but in particles. And more critical, the primary studies that these call on are Petit’s 1999 studies of Antarctic ice core samples from Vostok that tell us the CO2 and CH4 levels over the last ~420,000 years which show the rises in greenhouse gas and temperature in ~100,000 year cycles, and this study clearly states that the current high levels of these greenhouse gasses are “unprecedented during the past 420kyr” and have risen beyond the scales of the previous half million years in the years since human industry came about.

Like the early rational arguments presented to combat Global Warming, it seems only intelligent to try to do something about it, because there are four scenarios: it is either a real trend or not, and we either do something about it or not. If it isn’t a real problem and we don’t do anything, we remain as we are, if is a real problem and we don’t do anything, we all die. If it is or isn’t real and we do something about it, we win regardless. If, that is, we can still do anything about it.

There is a site online that contains many letters from people who write how they feel about climate change, including, of course, many scientists. The feelings run the gamut of grieving, frustration, anger, sadness, etc. The scientists cannot believe that the idea is so glossed over in the news cycle that immediately goes on to the latest celebrity nothingness. I can believe it, of course; if it’s just glossed over, you can keep the populace from freaking out. It’s believable, it’s just pretty awful. And it’s not just the changing climate, it’s the changing environment. We’ve exploited our resources at such an incredible rate that the natural bounce back from such destruction can’t at all keep up.

Many of the scientists who write are distraught because they have children. They worry, as I do, that the children won’t have a world to live in when they grow up. I have a young child. She is all I can think of when I think of the awe of existence, the incredible unlikelihood of life and consciousness, the sheer happiness that happens when a conscious being witnesses the flowering of another conscious being. I’m fulfilling my genetic instructions, being all I can be by not dying and making more!

I want to make the world the best place it can possibly be for her. She’s not even four years old yet. What can I do? Is it possible for one individual to do anything to ensure the continuing existence of human society, of a viable biosphere for the continued existence of our lineage? I can’t face the idea that we are potentially going extinct, especially not when I look at my child. I suppose that I myself may be lucky to be half done, that I probably won’t live beyond the middle of this century, so that I don’t have to witness the horrors of a collapsing infrastructure. With another couple degree rise in ocean temperatures, a lot of the habitable land is going to be in harm’s way. Then what sort of human migration patterns might we experience? Trying to keep “foreigners” out of your country is going to be the least of your worries: finding food will probably dominate your thoughts, and then staying alive to eat it.

Scandinavia looks good for remaining viable as a place to live, in this respect, as does the American Pacific Northwest. I hope this helps us out somehow, but it may only stave off the inevitable for a few more decades.

So what can I do? I live in an apartment building, I go to a supermarket for food (in the winter, there’s no way to grow food here in the winter). I don’t currently have a car, but I certainly have flown in jets an awful lot in the recent years. Is there any real way to offset these behaviors? The relative value of my presence in a musical concert situation is debatable, of course, though several hundred people come together and have a joyful experience of music and social interaction that is the sort of thing that apparently makes life meaningful. As I’ve said, making music is what I steer my conscious will toward. Is it valuable? Is it meaningful?

I cannot rightfully say that anything I do will help human society to continue to exist. The best I can do is to say that I help human society, or a small piece of it, exist at the moment. The moment of listening to music, or witnessing it being performed, feeling the motion of air pressures at different frequencies, is valuable to one’s existence at the moment and only then. We can carry a memory of the experience, of course, and hold onto that memory as a source of identity and meaning, but indeed it is done when the music is over. “You can never capture it again,” as Eric Dolphy said.

I suppose one could say that mindfulness, the concentration on the self in the present moment, is important for well being. Some psychological systems and Buddhist practices of meditation certainly focus on the idea of centering one’s awareness into the current state of being in order to relieve the stress of trying to live in the future or the past and overcoming the trauma of existence associated with doing so. Trying to understand the specious present. It’s a form of focus, and indeed living in a way that one actually maintains awareness of the present moment can be exhilarating. Music can be good for this, as can many physical activities that require whole body and mind synch, the sort of thing where you are letting go of your thoughts in order to physically allow your body to function as it does or has been trained to do: playing a musical instrument can bring this about, as can driving or having sex, or playing tennis or really just about anything.

Being mindful, then, could allow us to continue living in the present contentedly, existing with meaning based on what we are doing now. But how does this help to shape the future? The term “mindfulness” did come into our modern languages from Buddhism, where it indicates a form of meditation, and the words that “mindfulness” is translated from, “sati” and “smrti,” seem to indicate some form of remembering—not as in just remembering things from the past, but more as in “not forgetting” that you are here now, not letting what you know now leave your mind: remembering all that you are while maintaining a sense of being centered in the present. Additionally, there is an aspect of remembering to do some action in the future. That could help, I guess. If we knew what we could do in the future to enable us to survive.

I think that remembering all that you are is important. All that you are as a person, all that you are as a species, everything that we have done, it should embody us. We need to know about all the things we have done as human beings, both great and awful, to continue walking our path in the present and heading into the future. We need to remember every glorious artwork, every horrific war, every technological advancement. I have always considered my job as a composer of music to be adding to an ever-expanding spiral of human endeavor, humanity’s growing legacy of culture. Everything I do or make rides on the shoulders of those that came before me, and this includes not only the artists but the scientists and engineers, the bridge-builders and soldiers and farmers. Those who don’t know history, well, you know…we unfortunately repeat our mistakes all too often, especially when it comes to violence and prejudice.

And yet, with all of our forgetting of history, we maintain so many outdated forms of thinking as if they were our culture. We keep our religions and prejudices as part of our behavior, taught to hate the enemies, reinforce group pride, team spirit, etc, follow some sort of ritualistic behavior based on thousand-year-old writings. Yes, it’s true that a lot of the ideas that the religions say are their base tenets would be great for continuing to have a peaceful society (love, kindness, all that) but it does seem rare that these are the actual standards that are upheld. More often, all that is actually passed on is some sense of self-righteousness, or the idea of being part of the one special group of people amongst all people, which further seems to allow the idea of self-appointed expertise.

And these things are reinforced every day at the expense of education and growth of our actual culture and knowledge. On televised news, time is even given to high school sports in favor of, say high school music, arts or science. What does that say about their relative valuation in society? Yet an incredible amount of news airtime is spent on the cult of celebrity, so there’s obviously value in some form of the arts if you’re the top tiny percentage. Or just famous for being famous, as many of today’s celebrities seem to be (or at least I can’t actually figure out what it is that they do…?)

There is no longer a middle class of the arts, we had spent a lot of the 20th Century forming that, as if culture were an important part of modern life. There is no middle class for education, really, either—even the universities have become privatized and funding for research is coming from the private sector based on future usefulness as profitable items, weaponry, pharmaceuticals, agri-business, etc. Teachers in public schools are so disrespected that they make poverty wages. As far as I’m concerned, this is all backwards.

I don’t really make a living as a musician. I have, in the past, but only for short periods of time. Nonetheless, I continue to do it because, at least until now, I have considered it important. How can I realistically say that music is important now? How is it important? Is it that it creates momentary happiness for someone? How can I even know if I am fulfilling that functionality, especially with recorded music? What is my effort worth in spending the time and money to produce recorded music? How can it possibly mean anything to the world at large, and especially to the continuation of the world, to the continuation of human culture—especially considering that there may in fact be no possibility of a future at all for the human race?

Past societies have left us ruins and artworks that we can view and attempt to reconstruct elements of their culture, aesthetics of architecture and sculpture, and later bits and pieces of writing and drawing and painting. Most of what is extant is stone, and as we get closer to the present, we get other less durable products. We reconstruct music from notation, which we have (and believe we understand) from the past thousand or so years. We know that people played music before that, as we have music and instruments mentioned in writing that comes from much earlier, but we really don’t know how it sounded beyond extrapolating from description and bits and pieces of existing modern culture.

Every piece of music that I have made in my life will likely be gone and forgotten within 50 years, and even if the media survive longer than that and we still have a society that holds together enough to maintain archives of such things, it will probably only exist as some divots on a plastic disc or magnetic particles on some sort of storage device, possibly notation on paper. Maybe everything will be in a new form of memory storage, crystals or graphene or something. Still, it won’t move any air, it won’t be heard or felt by anyone. Even all of the notated music I have written (that which has been printed out and isn’t just more magnetic particles) won’t actually be music unless some odd historian attempts to read it while playing an instrument. So I, like all musicians before me, fade bit by bit into nothingness as time passes. No continuation, imminent human extinction notwithstanding.

So if we just continue to fiddle while Rome burns, so to speak, where do we draw the line? If there is nothing we can do, should we all just continue as if nothing is any different? Or just go full-on anarchist? Societies usually function by continuing to go about their “normal behavior,” until suddenly they don’t. Most people just try to live day to day having the best possible time that they can, anyway, given their circumstances. And the way that the world’s current economics have been moving, we are trending toward fewer and fewer people holding all the wealth while more and more struggle just to survive. I think that initially, after the second world war, they had thought that a populace that had a large middle class would remain satisfied and therefore mollified, but endowing the class of “teenager” as an economic functionary gave rise to a whole new set of cultural problems, and to a rise of individualism and deviation.

Frank Zappa, when asked about whether popular music in the 1960s had had any political impact on the world, said that of course it had, as could be seen by the changes in clothing and sexual mores. He said, further, that, “Actual progress was only possible with deviation from the norm.” He himself wasn’t interested in being involved in politics, (though later he did involve himself as an expert in censorship laws) but he thought that, although small, his audience might become deviant, and affect other people who might become deviant, and thereby some actual progress might come about.

I would say that, yes, some progress came about, but most of it was subsequently muted by creating an environment wherein people either had to hunker down and only consider their own survival or, if they were economically able, were kept mollified by a constant stream of shallow happinesses. And television, of course. And beer.

So we are inevitably on our way out, having been prevented from saving ourselves, to say nothing of saving our cultural or scientific treasures or discoveries, and we are continuing to throw everything into this growing bonfire. Shall we just dance around it? Is the goal now just to stay happy until we pass away?

Then what point is there to writing, to making music…? I imagine I will continue to do so simply because I don’t know what else to do, and it’s what I’ve set myself up to do with my entire adult life. It makes me happy to work on recording music. I can only wish somebody were listening to it to make it seem more worthwhile to continue doing so. You never really get any meaningful feedback when the entire structure of valuation in the arts is based on sales. I hope it makes somebody happy for the moment besides myself.

And for my daughter? They say that studying music helps people’s big brains to think in ways that are important, that it helps in understanding things in the world around you. Learning and maintaining brain plasticity are things that I have always valued. The end result, of course, is that I am able to write nonsense like this screed. Maybe that’s just part of dealing with the stress of thinking, of considering the present, the past and the future, and not precisely living in the moment. It keeps me occupied, and keeps me from the stress of thinking about economics, which apparently accounts for the majority of stress in the modern human’s life. (Not that that isn’t stressful as well; I’m not employed either—which also means I can spend time writing this drivel.)

So for now, I continue. I should have learned to farm, I guess. Then meaning could be found in continuing to grow food in order to continue eating. Meaning in the face of mortality is much easier than meaning in the face of extinction; if it’s only mortality that is the rub, you can try to enjoy every second of life and do what you can to make the world better for those that come after you. (Not that many people actually consider doing either of these things, it seems.) If there is no “after you,” I guess we might as well enjoy what lives we have. But please, not in the sense of excess consumerism and sensationalism, which is all designed to keep us lulled into commodifying our natural resources—and ourselves—so that we give up our freedom to actually participate in our own governance. Which is indeed what we are actively experiencing, what Sheldon Wolin calls “Inverted Totalitarianism.” The pressure to buy into the importance of technology is a form of giving up the battle to preserve what we have left of natural resources. The pressure to drive content creators toward devaluing their product in favor of the freedom of information is exactly that, the commodification and subsequent devaluation of ourselves as natural resources. Neither of these things is making anybody’s life actually better, especially as years go by.

Can we be better, or is society just destined to end up collapsing into some anarchic Mad Max scenario when the natural resources fail? Is that what is being perpetrated upon the Middle East at this moment, essentially? I always wonder how the US will look when oil goes away, which, regardless of peak-oil predictions, will inevitably come about sooner or later. So many people in the US are very far away from the production of any food that they might survive on. So many areas are based entirely on the population’s ability to drive long distances between food, clothing and shelter. Maybe we should all just retreat to our survivalist compounds. Or maybe we can actually pay attention to what science is saying and see if it’s possible to get our governments to help our long-term, or at least near-term, survival. Then maybe, the things that enrich our lives can continue to be made and enjoyed in non-cynical non-defeatist ways. I, for one, look forward to continuing to make music, and learning about the universe around me.

I hope it has meaning.

tractor

*Libertarianism here is basically neo-liberalism in the classical sense, the idea that regulation prevents commerce. Regulation is imposed by governments for the benefit of a populace, commerce abhors regulation in favor if a bottom line, at the expense of that same populace. So much of political diatribe these days is about “building the economy” though that invariably is only beneficial to those that own the companies, not the people who work for them.

**A concept developed by William James to describe what our sense of “now” actually is, how long is “now”?

***One company had a large scale operation running within Saudi Arabia, which of course meant less transit time for shipping munitions, but also vastly changed the taxes paid back to the parent company in Sweden, which led to less tax money to able to be used to accommodate the refugee population.

****Actually, I have tinnitus, so I can hear my ears ring all the time anyway.

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Posted in Camper Van Beethoven, etc., Music, Technology, Touring

just a little bragging.

This is not the normal internet-style humble-brag, I’m actually bragging. I don’t do that often…or at least not overtly. But check it out—our family of musicians has a ton of records out, and a ton just recently. And they’re all just for you! Of course, this is understandably odd in these anti-musical/anti-artist times. Who’s making records? I guess everyone still wants to, but it’s certainly not completely viable commercially. We spend our own money on it anyway. And I personally have given up, at least three or four times just this year!

So, when I say, “our family” of musicians, I’m referring to the lineage of Camper Van Beethoven and Cracker. It’s a long sordid history that began in Redlands, CA back in about 1982 or ’83, then moved up to Santa Cruz after summer break. You can read the CVB history on wikipedia if you like: Camper Van Beethoven

The band split up in 1990, David Lowery went back to his roots in Redlands and got Johnny Hickman, they formed Cracker. Cracker was very successful, but regardless, in about 2000, Camper Van Beethoven started edging toward reforming. We did, began touring and recording again and now we’ve been a band longer the second time around than we ever were when we first started.

Both bands have been making records ever since. So have all of the individuals involved. We’re fucking old! (though nowadays we can actually play.) Victor Krummenacher, Camper’s bassist, and I started our own label in 1993, Magnetic, which we shut down in 2012 when I moved to Sweden. We’ve put out a landfill’s-worth of our own CDs as well as Greg Lisher (CVB’s lead guitarist) and others’.

Cracker and Camper, all mixed up.

Cracker and Camper, all mixed up.

In the past two or three years, though, we’ve hit some sort of stride. Camper made two albums:

La Costa Perdida” (2013) & “El Camino Real” (2014)— http://www.campervanbeethoven.com/

these were “about” (inasmuch as anything can be “about” anything,) Northern and Southern California, respectively.

And now Cracker has followed them up with a new double album, “Berkeley to Bakersfield,” (see:  http://crackersoul.com/store ) which are “about” California from west to east this time. We do love California…though nowadays only Greg and Victor live there.

These are obviously the most known of our albums, being done by the bands, whose names are probably more well known than the individuals involved, except maybe for David Lowery. But even for David, this comes on the heels of a solo album:  “The Palace Guards” (2011)

And for the rest of us, these are above and beyond:

Victor Krummenacher’s “I Was a Nightmare But I’m Not Going to Go There” (2012) & “Hard to See Trouble Coming” (2014) — http://www.victorkrummenacher.com/

Johnny Hickman’ “Tilting” (2012)— http://johnnyhickman.com/

Jonathan Segel’s “All Attractions” & “Apricot Jam” (2012) & “Shine Out” (2014): — http://www.jonathansegel.com/

that’s a lot of music! I personally vouch for all of it. It’s all great, (I say, polishing my knuckles.) A quantity, yes, but a quantity of quality music. Many different directions can be found here, from country music to pop rock, from punk rock to space rock, from Americana to out-of-this-world.

Most of these will be available to purchase in physical CD form at our upcoming shows featuring Cracker and Camper Van Beethoven:

December 27th & 28th, 2014: Independent, San Francisco, CA

Dec. 29th: Lobero Theatre, Santa Barbara, CA

Dec. 30th: The Belly Up, Solana Beach, CA

Dec. 31st: Soiled Dove Underground, Denver CO

Jan. 14, 2015: 9:30 Club, Washington DC

Jan. 15: Lee’s Palace, Toronto, ONT

Jan. 16: Middle East Downstairs, Cambridge, MA

Jan. 17: World Cafe Live, Philadelphia PA

Jan. 18: B.B. King Blues Club, NYC

See you there!

Tewkesbury

 

 

—>EDIT/ADDDITION

I forgot to brag even more about the new rereleases! Omnivore Recordings, the amazing label that’s been releasing great things lately on vinyl and CD (for example, the entire Game Theory catalog is on its way)  rereleased our records that we made for Virgin Records in 1988 and 1989, Our Beloved Revolutionary Sweetheart and Key Lime Pie last year. And now, our 2004 album New Roman Times is coming out in February, all are expanded and remastered. They sound amazing. So that’s a baker’s dozen at least.

New Roman Times, out in February!

New Roman Times, out in February!

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Posted in Camper Van Beethoven, Music, Touring

Blast from the past—interview from May, 1998

Interview from May 1998 for a fanzine.

*So how was the Container tour? Any memorable moments or good stories?

I went out with the Container for most of the month of April and it was the first time I had toured the US since um… 1991 I guess when Hieronymus Firebrain went out opening for the Monks of Doom. The scenery has changed, it’s true. Even in that short a period of time. It’s definitely not the same as the tours we did in the 80’s, there are so few people interested in non-major acts these days, it seems. I felt generally a little unwanted, like when you travel as a tourist in, say, France, and both you and they know that there is really no reason for you to be there. I’ve heard that in many languages “tourist” translates as “that annoying stranger sleeping on your couch”. Anyway, there was certainly very little respect for the fact that we were from out of town and traveling trying to hawk our wares, average pay was next to nothing, average audiences as well. Certainly without the financial support of Subliminal Records (who put out the Container CD) we never would have made it. This, in contrast with the 1991 HF tour, which was a similar situation of a little known band and small shows, but at least we made it back home, spending the last dollar on toll to cross the Bay Bridge into San Francisco.

On this tour, we kept splitting up the band, the drummer, Chris being an animator for some Disney bible epic or something, had to keep flying home to Hollywood to draw, so we ended up playing acoustic shows occasionally. One such night in Greenville, NC (home of Eastern Carolina university, and a surf town if i’ve ever seen one, despite the lack of surf…) the soundman happened to play drums so we taught him the songs at sound check and played the set with him on drums later.

Other strange but usual tour incidents: opening for a country cover band in Milwaukee (?!) who did not old, not new, but early 80’s country covers..(!?) and stopped in the middle of the set so the drummer could do a drum solo (!!?)

Got pulled over by the cops in Kansas, who gave the tired old story, “We don’t care about you small time user, we just want the big guys, so if you got a little bit, just hand it over and I’ll take the pipe away and throw the stuff into a ditch…” Maybe the 4th time I’ve been pulled over on tour and gotten this same story, in different states… Then they decide to search the van. In Texas once with Dieselhed I bluffed my way through by asking the cop to call for backup and make sure they brought a drug sniffing dog to hurry the process up so we could get to our next show, he let us go. This guy looked about for a bit and then started talking about the metal cage we had in the back for the equipment— said since it was inaccessible to the driver, somebody could drink back there while we were driving! I said, look sir, I don’t even drink, I drive after the shows… Clyde (the singer) said, he has a few beers so I always drive. Cop says, “Jeez, after the show, i’d be in back in the cage with a fifth of tequila..!”

yes, sir…

*How is the new CD doing?

I assume you mean the container cd? Well, they hired a radio promo service and I guess it’s charting on some college radio. I don’t really pay attention. These guys want that CD to get them to the major label big time. They’re way more organized than I am.

*I know that this question is vague and dated but what was it like being in CVB ( a band with such a cult following)?

*What has life been like since the days of CVB came to an end for you?

It felt like I was doing something important, like I was having a positive effect on the world. Unfortunately since then it’s been a little like when your parents tell you that you are special all your life and then you go out into the rest of the world and you get beat up and realize that really you’re not. It’s nasty to have to live with the most important work you have ever done behind you. I keep producing music thinking that it’s as great and as important as what I was doing in CVB, but from the responses and results I guess I’m wrong. It’s been producing a sort of cognitive dissonance between me and the real world. Maybe a little like child stardom for those Hollywood kids that end up as drug addicts… And so I keep making records thinking that they sound just like what people are going to like, like they aren’t so different from whatever else you hear (and indeed my music is just whatever else I hear filtered through me and regurgitated back through my fingers…) and then the feedback I get is “it’s so weird.” Hmm.

So what I did in the physical world since getting booted from CVB in 1989: first thing I did was get out of Santa Cruz and move to san francisco. Tried to start a solo career, but unfortunately had just released “Storytelling” which, while good as a CVB side project album, was really no good as starting block for a solo musician’s career (again: “too weird”. Spin Magazine’s guide to alternative rock called it “a double album art-rock horror”). So I started Hieronymus Firebrain (initially called Exalted Birds — the angels in Rushdie’s Satanic Verses…, then called Clocklips briefly) with musicians that David Immerglück introduced me to. David I. stayed in the band long enough to be drafted by Camper in august of 1989, so by the end of that year the band settled into the lineup that recorded the first HF CD, self titled, I signed a contract with Delta Records, formerly Fundamental. The CD came out and they went under, I saw maybe 50 copies ever? They printed the painting on the cover (supposed to be full color) in green and red! Yuck. Anyway, so it went for the companion piece to Storytelling… the band members spent more time in their other bands, and eventually I was back to square one.

By this time I had to earn a living again, first jobs I’d had since the first years of CVB (when I had been a painter, handyman, and even worked in a trophy shop) and knowing full well that of the sex, drugs and rock and roll that were all I knew how to do, I wasn’t making any money at the rock and roll and wasn’t good looking enough to prostitute myself so I took up the offer of my local’s proprietor who called one day to ask, “Ever thought of becoming a publican?”

I spent the next six years bartending at the Rat’n’Raven in SF, and occasionally at Lucky 13 or Zeitgeist, till I’d not only had my fill of beer and booze but patrons too. When people walked through the door I hated them immediately. Bartending is like adult day care.

Anyway, in 1991 after the dissolution of the first version of HF, I put together the 2nd and greatest version with Russ Blackmar on drums (still work with him. He also plays with Sonia Hunter, Alice Bierhorst, etc.) Ted Ellison on Bass (subsequently he became the bass player in FUCK) and Mark Bartlett on Guitar. We toured the States once and played several shows in California, recorded one CD in Oakland and on at The Mudhive in New Mexico. What happened to this band was that Russ and I went in one direction and Mark and Ted in others. I was stripping my parts to accommodate their playing (at the time, anyway, I must say their styles are different now). So we split up and Russ and I started playing with Jane Thompson (Russ’ old roommate) forming Jack and Jill.

During this period I also played with Eugene Chadbourne, one tour in Europe during the Gulf War, several other smaller tours in the states including a stint at the knitting factory where we recorded the 69th Sin-Funny album. Also (at the request of Todd’s brother Dave Costanza in New Mexico*) produced/mixed the first Granfaloon Bus CD, “A Love Restrained” and subsequently played with them for two or three years. also played with Dieselhed for two or three years, played on their first CD. this was a very exciting time, especially when I had two shows in an evening in SF, I’d strap the fiddle to my back like a gun and ride my little Triumph drunkenly from gig to gig. I must say that driving a motorcycle drunk in San Francisco is a lot of fun with all those hills and curves… perhaps that is the real reason I stayed bartending so long—when I quit I began working at a record store, which really ruined me on the music business.

Also played with Victor briefly in Fifth Business, until he decided he needed a different sound and dissolved the band into what became A Great Laugh. 5B’s greatest moment was playing the Warfield Theatre opening for Radiohead and Belly. Felt like a rock star again for a minute or two.

Also produced/arranged a John Kruth cd for Weasel Disc called the Electric Chairmen (originally the Gas Chambermaids).

Worked for Nesting Dolls Dance Company for the past 4 or 5 years, composed and performed music for several shows, some solo guitar or violin, some with bands. Most recently we did shows in SF in May 1998 where my band was me on bass, Russ on drums, Alison Faith Levy on Keyboards and Dan Olmstead (from the New EZ devils) on Guitar.

Worked also at Homework audio, where I recorded the Plane Crash Tape, most of the first DENT, mixed HF, recorded demos for Victor.

Eventually, disgusted with my situation in SF, I mistakenly followed my now ex-girlfriend to LA (alienating other ex-girlfriend in the process, unfortunately) thinking that it would be a positive career move. Presently I live in Hollywood and work when I get it for a film post production facility, doing bits of everything. For instance I recorded all the cars and other machines for Boogie Nights….

I read for a few film parts, ended up acting in one called The Invisibles. I like acting but again, it’s a process of selling yourself here to get parts so I don’t end up doing it much.

Last summer I was asked to produce the Container CD, they were at the time a trio in Hollywood. After the recording I started playing with them.

*Tell me a bit about Magnetic and how and why it came to be?

The obvious reason was to put out our CDs because no one else was interested in doing so. Unfortunately I don’t know shit about how to run a business so I suck at it. The company is exclusively mail order now, after trying to convince distributors to carry the CDs at first and realizing I am no salesman, and can’t convince people to buy what they don’t want to (“so why should we buy this?” Well, I used to play in CVB, violin and such… “I thought the violin player was a girl…”) and when individuals ordered the CDs they really wanted them and that felt so much better.

Magnetic, by the way, was started with money I inherited when my mother died. I say this because without this catastrophic event I never would have been able to put out records again. I find this strange. The money ran out and these recent few are all on credit card!

*Current Projects?

This past winter I finally finished the second DENT CD, Verstärker, a year after gathering the sounds in New Mexico. Also worked little on 2 tracks for the Loud Family’s latest “Days for Days”. I’ve been occasionally working on some songs that Russ and I started before I left SF, what should have been the third J&J CD. I haven’t been playing any solo shows or shows of my own material. I must change this, however, for my own mental well being, I just have the overwhelming feeling of uselessness of doing so…trying to get over it.

In February I flew to Richmond, VA to play with cracker to record a Clash cover (White Riot, we used to do it in CVB…) for a Clash tribute record. While there I recorded a lot with a band called Magnet and now we are going to do a tour in June on the West Coast with me, Victor, Greg Lisher and John Nelson being the band, backing up Mark Goodman.

Mark Linkous from Sparklehorse has asked me to tour with them, but while I want to do it, it may conflict with another job, doing sound design on a big Hollywood Science Fiction movie…

*What kind of stuff have you been listening to as of late?

…long pause…

You mean this month, day, year? I love to tell people what I listen to, I provide musical info to several friends, to turn people on to things they might not otherwise find or to lend my judgment to the world’s aesthetics….

So. Lately a lot of old country music (Faron Young, Webb Pierce, George Jones) and 60’s Jamaican music. Maybe these are signs of middle age? (I’m 34). Last winter I went through periods of only Red House Painters, Tim Buckley, Geraldine Fibbers. Also a lot of Björk. I wish I could make music like that (approaching it with Dent maybe. when I first heard her sing I wanted to sing like that. Of course I will never…. she embodies many aesthetic attributes that I also subscribe to, the future-forward look, the visceral inspiration. But I still put my hands on old instruments, guitar and violin, and somehow get stuck in the past again…)

Many SF local band CDs, New EZ Devils, Liar, Granfaloon Bus, Jim Campilongo. A few bigger bands, Built to Spill, Cornershop, Giant Sand (and OP8), Babe the Blue Ox, and of course the Loud Family.

And still Richard Thompson, and Can.

I try to listen to some electronic music but it never lasts long. I used to do a lot of electronic music in the studios at UCSC in the 80s, and my ex-wife, Diana is presently really into the trance/groove stuff with all the ethnic elements sampled in and claims it’s like the forward extension of what I used to do, but I don’t use it for its purpose (trance dance) and so I don’t really listen to it. If CVB never happened that is probably what I would be doing.

*Can you name any bands similar to CVB for those who are still not over the breakup?

Um, you know, there were a lot of novelty acts that I felt responsible for allowing to happen on an unsupervised world, and I apologize. and there’s a lot of violin around these days, but they all seem to actually play it like a violin, (I’m really a guitar player—my take on it was from that point of view. Not a great violinist but what I do isn’t what other violin players do) which I don’t really like much. As far as sound goes maybe Cornershop? As far as content, maybe Dieslelhed or Granfaloon Bus?

*Is there ever a chance that there will be a CVB reunion tour?

As a freak show at the circus, haul out the geeks for the audience to ponder. When we’re old poor fat fucks. Actually I’d probably do it if anyone ever asked. That’d be weird to try to write a new record.

*I guess that is a no?

I maintain hope.

*Is there any unreleased CVB stuff left out there? Will it ever be released?

Yes and no. I assembled a lot of tapes when we were putting together VCMO, and there were a lot of unfinished tunes, instrumentals and demos, demos of the KLP where I had played (before they recorded the cd for real without the melodies I played) that sort of thing. Cassettes exist. Doubtful of actual release

*Do you know of any good sources for bootleg CVB on tape or CD?

Here’s a couple places to check: http://www.geocities.com/SunsetStrip/Stage/8702 –Zach’s page, he has lots of CVB and such. also, http://www.geocities.com/sunsetstrip/stage/7713 — Scott Heller has a bunch of tapes including some HF.

*What do you think about the state of music today? Do you think people are less prone to try something new?

Well, there are so many bands that appear to be clones of popular bands that sometimes you can’t tell them apart. Once some company takes a chance and sells something new, everybody tries to recreate it. Rock music is dead, really. The fact that Sonic Youth is a big time band proves it. It’s in the process of becoming ghettoized like jazz or blues, “Hey here’s a club where they play electric guitars…” Imagine people who have only ever heard clocked beats listening to the fluid time of a human drummer. Not that this is bad, mind you, it’s just the progression of music. Musical fads are like viruses, some take generations or whole cultures to burn through before they’re gone. Like western classical music, still affects the middle aged in our societies. Pop music on the other hand hits like a 24hour flu, it gets into your head and then repeats itself when you aren’t listening to it so that you want to hear it again and again until you just can’t stand to hear it again ever. And that’s what keeps the music machine oiled, those one hit sales. Repeat buys of a band are way down. Imagine buying the next Marcy Playground or Third Eye Blind? Yeah, right. And when I go to play here in LA with the Container, it’s definitely not my peer group that are in the audience. I don’t think that people in general are less inclined to try something new as much as the companies that produce the CDs are. They can’t get it into their heads that they really control what is hip, or they don’t admit it. Like the Monks of Doom on IRS, they didn’t know what to do with them. They could have just said, these guys are the next thing…. people are at home trying out the new stuff in private. Eventually it gets out to the public in small ways, in the rivulets between the Spice Girls and Bush. (so to speak…)

Same in film, all the younger generation of actors are homogenous, when there are multiple plot lines (god forbid) it takes half the film to figure out who’s who because they all look the same. (I say this of American film, European and British film actors seem to have character at least.) And the small films (CDs, etc.) all have to trod over each other to get noticed at all by the public.

*Since IRS went under is there a chance that Magnetic will release Monks of Doom or CVB stuff? How about a CVB box set with some sort of book?

I wish. I can barely afford to press 500 copies of the CDs we have out now. This year appears to be the last hurrah.

*What’s up with Pitch-A-Tent? Do they own the early CVB stuff?

You mean the new PaT? David started a label with this name last year with a woman in Athens, GA, without really asking us if it was OK. I don’t really care, but they don’t have anything to do with the old PaT, except that thy are both labels that are subsets of larger labels, in the old case Rough Trade and in the new, Virgin. He claims not to have as much to do with it as she does. I wish he’d take all the Magnetic stuff and release it through them. And Monks and CVB and everything. They at least have distribution.

The early CVB stuff is apparently still under contract through the now defunct IRS, with their parent company EMI. I don’t know what will happen. It’s all technically still in print, but just try to find a CD…

*Any future projects or missions?

Not sure. The more I work on films the more I get frustrated working for other people and want to direct them myself, but a million dollars is a long way from the couple thousand it costs to make a CD.

Daniel Wolf, a composer friend in Germany sent me a tape of his and Hauke Harden’s string trios, in various intonations. I’d love to put out more experimental music like this, and do more of my own chamber music or experimental music, but the time it takes is great and the reward very small. Daniel run an imprint called Material Press and they put out what scores I write/have written.

*Are there any copies of the Storytelling cd? Are you going to repress that on Magnetic in the future?

Again, I wish. When Rough Trade US went bankrupt, all our old stuff went to a warehouse in NY and apparently some cutout house bought it. I sometimes find cutout copies of Storytelling for $4 or so and buy them to sell through Magnetic, same with the first HF CD on Delta, but that’s about it. I’d love to do the 10th anniversary edition next winter…. ha….

When I was in SF last weekend a musician told me that he was in a band with someone who worked at Rough Trade at the time and they brought a box of storytelling cassettes home to record their rehearsals over. Boy, that made me feel good.

*Are you looking at branching Magnetic out past projects of yours and Victors?

Well we just did the first, Alison Faith Levy’s CD the Fog Show. Of course it was produced by Chris Xefos and recorded at Victor’s house. But neither of us played on it. Not sure how this happened really.

I would love it if somebody wanted to make Magnetic into a real company, invest a bunch of money and run it like a business, do real promotion and tracking and sales. Then I could just make music and be in charge of aesthetics…

*If so, how would you determine what type of stuff to do?

People send me tapes all the time. And I see bands. But really it would be more like the old Pitch-a-Tent where we just helped out our friends (like Spot 1019, Wrestling Worms, River Roses 10 Foot Faces, Donner Party). I’d probably want to put out friends’ bands/ensembles, and then of course I could make my own county record/ ska record/ chamber music record/ jazz record/ electronic music record… dreaming again.

*Where can you go to get things like Dieselhed and other projects you have been involved in? Can you recommend any mail order companies with stuff like that?

I always recommend Aquarius Records in San Francisco, on our website I direct credit card orders to them (our bank refused to allow us to accept credit cards…? don’t know just why). we try to carry a few copies of things like Granfaloon Bus, Container. etc…

*What does the future hold for the infamous JES? Are you ready to take over the world or just the underground?

Gearing up for the world… Overcoming a lack of confidence instilled by the constant battle of producing unpopular music and the loneliness of living in Los Angeles. Still waiting for a break.

If it all goes to hell, I headed back to the tropics (I guess I can’t go back to Indonesia just yet…) and starting a bar on the beach in some surf town.

*What does your average day consist of?

Today I didn’t go to work, got up at 9:30 (that’s early) and made the coffee, typed away at this thing.

Usually I get on my bike (a Moto Guzzi V65, by the way) and drive across Los Angeles (lane splitting down Santa Monica Blvd. ) to Danetracks, where I work on computers using ProTools doing sound for films. Basically i’m Dane Davis’s assistant, so I do a little of everything, some sound design, some recording (foley or effects or ADR) or music editing, and a lot of mixing. We’ve been doing more small films lately where we do the whole mix in our studio if I can boil it down to 32 tracks. I get it set to go and Dane finishes it off when he’s not busy with the big movies schedules.

Sometimes I’ll go swimming at the YMCA, or rehearsal with the Container, then home to my apartment where I work on music here, on the computer-ADAT studio, or just playing in my living room. I go out occasionally to see bands or movies. I don’t hang out much at bars or cafes anymore, I don’t really know very many people in LA. pretty boring existence lately, wish I had more excitement to tell of. Ask me again in a year and maybe it’ll be better.

*What makes you get up each day, what influences you to do all of the things you have done?

Wow. This is the hard question, because I ask it of myself all the time.

I basically believe in humanity, despite the human race, and believe that what we create is added to the ever expanding spiral of human culture. Little drops into it may not be noticed the first time but they seem to unknowingly change the world and can affect later arcs on the outer arms of that spiral (obvious examples are the retro-trends, ska, swing, rockabilly). Also weird thing happen like when I was working with Mixed Company in the late 80’s—another dance company—their costuming was unknowingly reminiscent of the 20’s Russian avant-garde/futurist theatre, just happened that way…) So I continue to add to the pool, continue to believe that despite the aggravations and evidence to the contrary, I have something important to add, something important to say. It’s very egotistical of me to believe this, but like I said before about growing up believing that you are special and learning late that you ain’t, a small voice in the back of your mind tells you otherwise, keeps you trying to prove that you are. (Oppositely, I have found that children who grow up believing they are shit continue to have that voice telling them that despite what their friends or lovers think…)

What influences me is culture. popular culture is very deleterious, but infinitely interesting. When CVB went around the US in the 80’s we brought not only music but that message of not standing for the watered down America, like bad beer and bad coffee. Well, we won that revolution, there’s “gourmet” coffee and beer everywhere now, problem is that it’s necessarily degraded by being for the masses. So the little victories of finding the vegetarian food in Minnesota or whatever are gone now, but that’s the worldisation of what culture we wanted at the time to express. The globalization of communication is changing everything, probably to the lowest common denominator, but how can that ultimately be bad? How can we patronize a culture different from our own by looking out for its own best interests at the expense of informing it of the rest of the world? I am very much a futurist, although I realize that that I not evident in the music I produce. Maybe I don’t have the ideas that will affect the next step, (yet), but at least I can do what I can to kill off the last one or pave the way, in the same way that JS Bach destroyed baroque music by perfecting it by its own rules, thus his death ended that era, paving the way for “classical” music (not that I am any Bach).

I have always been let down by present day artists pretending to see the future. in Wim Wender’s “Until the End of the World” he asked all those famous artists to make music as they would be doing in ten years time, and they all produced the same dreck they were making at the time the movie was made. Or the new Star Trek show, they always play fucking old music when they are listening for pleasure… what’s up with that? I’d think that by the 24th century, Japanese noise culture would have been so long embedded in pop culture that people’s ears could differentiate the harmonic content of bursts of filtered pink or white noise, or groove to logarithmic rhythms or something.

*Words of wisdom for those that appreciate all of the great songs you have given us?

Um, thanks for listening, thanks for any feedback……

I can be pretty opinionated, so I’m not going to try to spread any words of general advice like I’m as didactic as all that. Just that nobody should really have to justify their taste despite the fact that we all always try to convince other of our own.

* Don’t you think you should look at your life as one that most people would die for? I mean, think of all the great things you have done, the beautiful music you have been a part of. The future music that you will be a part of…

I’m not sure how to answer this sort of question, how people view their lives can be so different. I feel I’ve been very lucky for most of my life, yes, and I have had a lot of fun. I’d rather not have to look to the past for justification of existence, like saying that CVB was the height of my existence, but at the moment I don’t quite see it in front of me either. Maybe it’s like the same thing that child actors have, growing up in public and then when they’re not in the spotlight anymore they don’t know how to relate to the world. I know it’s been a sort of psychological demon for at least both Victor and I, and maybe more so for him because he started younger and went farther before it all went wrong. Sometimes it’s a little embarrassing when people know what I have done in the past and can’t figure out why I am [bartending, working at a record store, touring with unknown bands,] like somehow Camper should have paid for my life. (Maybe I should point out that when I got signed out of the contract in 1989 I got my amp, my violin and about $2000 in cash—at the time that was allegedly one-fifth of the band’s worth.) And continuing to make the music that I have made in the past 10 years, honestly I haven’t got the best response. It’s only the occasional person who tells me it’s beautiful, (thank you). As for the future music, honestly it’s becoming smaller and smaller as I try to figure out how I should continue. Interaction with an audience is important to me, I don’t want to make music just for myself. I want to make another record, now that i’ve been working on mailing the promo out for these latest three, but i’m not sure if I can handle running this company anymore. I hate being a business, I always wanted someone else to handle that stuff. If that never happens, the future music I make will be heard by very few people.

* Do you do much advertising? Mailings, e-mail or snail for Magnetic?

I do email mailings based on who has mailed to me, and I am this morning sending out about 500 Magnetic one page catalogs through the US Post. As far as advertising, we don’t do much. I realize that’s where we should really spend our money, but the money runs out fast. Each CD costs $1500-$2000 to manufacture ( either 500 or 1000 CDs), that’s after recording costs, then like $75-100 for envelopes to do promo mailings, and $300-400 to mail one out to some press and radio. We have, in the past, put ads in Option and a couple other things, even did one classified in Spin once, but they have never had any noticeable effect. And each one costs as much as our entire promo mailing (option does do business card sized ads for $150 or so…).

*Where do you see yourself in 10 years? Honestly.

Let’s see, ten years will be 2008 and i’ll be 44. I see many possible outcomes. I could be still in Hollywood working little sound design on movies and occasionally (by then, one hopes) getting a few gigs scoring for film. Or I could have abandoned the film world in favor of the music world, gained some notoriety playing with various acts and doing some production on newer bands’ CDs. Or maybe I will suddenly get backers to pay to make my own films and records instead of having to work on other people’s! (Yeah, right). Or (more likely) I will have fled in terror from Los Angeles and sold whatever possessions I have to pay for a small shack somewhere in the tropics. Near a beach.

*The most memorable moment in your 34 years?

Standing on the beach on the south side of Bali in december of 1988 and becoming all the water within the area, from the mists in the clouds to the vast ocean.

*Do you find it tough to make music and money? I know that my music suffers due to my full time job.

Fuck yeah. Earning money takes it out of you. The more you earn, the more you have to work and the more tired you become, until you just want to watch the TV when you’re not at work. I always like those periods of time when I am working very little best. Otherwise you have to force yourself to finish, (or start!) projects.

There’s a reason for ‘starving artists’, I guess. They’re the only ones with time to make art.

*What do you think of violin bands like the Dirty Three?

Well, that really depends on they ay the player plays, their idea of music. I love the dirty 3, that guy is beautiful, very passionate. He’s not trying to show off, he’s making a specific sound. I saw them play once and he drank a bottle of wine during the set, like a sad gypsy. I’m not that great a violinist, coming from a guitar playing background, but what I can do is play like a guitar. What I don’t really like to hear is when violin players play in rock bands, like classical musician’s technique in the rock context. It doesn’t work for me really. Sounds kitschy. Violin is scary (like David Lowery used to say, “the three scariest instruments are the violin, bagpipes and the pedal steel.” Probably because of their stretched tuning.) And I like it that way, I like it stretching the tuning. When it’s always in tune it’s boring. I like a lot of folk musics, from all over the world that use the fiddle. I don’t really know many of the violin-in-rock-band bands, like the wild colonials? I keep meaning to go and see them, they play around here all the time. People tell me i’m responsible for the many violins in bands nowadays… I don’t know if that’s a responsibility I want!

*How come Magnetic doesn’t sell CVB boots, or as my local record store calls them, live rare imports, to help make money?

First off, because it’s not just up to me, it would be sort of cheating some contract with whoever owns the catalog now (Polygram? ) and second, sheerly because of the price of pressing and selling CDs.

*So do you think that advertising, record company executives and popular radio has killed most people’s musical alertness in the US?

That and MTV. People used to buy records based on the label that put them out, no longer. Repeat buying of a band’s next cd is way down, more one-shot bands…. And formula sells. It’s always about money.

*<<this year appears to be the last hurrah>>

What do you mean by that? Is this the end of Magnetic?

Unless I earn a bunch of money to continue making the CDs. I would do it on a small level for the rest of my life if I can.

*How come you have not turned Magnetic into a larger mail order entity? It seems as if most smaller labels are willing to work on consignment.

Not sure what you mean… I am trying to…? I tried to get the bank to let us accept credit cards, but they turned me down. Not enough monthly income and they didn’t like the street address of the business ( my apartment in SF at the time—I guess they thought I would be running a whorehouse…) I guess i’m not an aggressive enough salesman.

*Do you surf?

I have in the past, but haven’t lately. Time and effort, you know. I get my kicks riding motorcycles. Last weekend I went up to David lowery’s cabin out by pioneertown, near Joshua Tree, and he and Jackson (CVB’s manager, presently David’s) and we rode dirtbikes up to big bear lake and back….

*Do you have plans to make the major label trek with The Container if the music takes them to that point?

I know that’s what Clyde wants. I think I would do it again.

* Dave and Anne Costanza were from a band called the Whitefronts, Dave and Karl Bartlett played horns on CVB’s Our beloved revolutionary sweetheart. We used to do a lot of shows with the Whitefronts in SF, and Dave and Karl toured with CVB. Subsequently they moved to NM and formed the Lords of Howling, recently dissolved. Dave and Anne are also important players in DENT.

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September in the Desert

Aside from a visit from my dad in Stockholm, we spent most of the summer out in the country, so I admit that while I tried to practice enough for tour in September, my fingertips weren’t sufficiently calloused. I was looking forward to a couple shows of burning fingertips to start off!

I flew out of Arlanda, the big airport around here, it’s about 25 miles north of the city. This flight was on Delta, which I hadn’t taken internationally before, so that was interesting. Certainly no better. Maybe a little worse than SAS or KLM, especially food-wise. But the real horror of this was trying to transfer at JFK. The flight from Arlanda was delayed, sitting there for a while before taking off, meaning that I had an hour to go through passport control and customs and get my bag to the transfer and then through security again, and then to the gate. I have been in the Global Entry program for several years, and without it, I never would have made it through here. If I had had to stand in the regular lines, I would never have made my connection. Even bypassing them, through the Global Entry passport kiosks, then waiting for my bag, then through the Global Entry customs line, I barely made it to the baggage transfer in time for them to agree to get it to the next flight. Stressful, especially that part where you wait for your luggage. Oh, and the part where you have to go through security yet again (why, I wonder?) to get to the next gate. Although the Global Entry program gives you the TSA-Pre status also, here at JFK that meant no special line, but you did get to keep your shoes on! Thanks, TSA.

Finally through that, the next flight was literally at the farthest gate in the terminal, so I ran with the violin and backpack all down the terminal. Made it to the plane with everybody else boarded already and 5 minutes before doors closed. I hate air travel.

Landed in San Francisco, waited for bag, which luckily arrived! I guess they did transfer it, excellent. So then, off to the SFO car rental area to rent the tour van. Budget had a 12 passenger van held for me, but demanded my credit card even though it was supposed to be on the band card, of course. I said, hey, we do this all the time at a lot of different airports, usually they can use the card that actually reserved it? The guy stepped back and said “hey, man, do you want the van or not!” Ok, man, geez. Whatever. So I paid for it, drove the thing off to Victor’s house, got there near midnight. After that, sleep. Nearly immediately.

Next morning, I had to get up early to move the van from where I parked it due to SF street cleaning. Oh, I don’t miss that, but it has happened that I have woken up in our apartment in Stockholm to some noise and thought, shit, did I move the car? But being up that early, and in the van, I decided to go to Tartine for a croissant and coffee. Hell, it was my birthday!

When I got back, Victor (Krummenacher, bassist) and Troy were up and despite Victor having recently injured his back, they helped me take out the two back seats and then load all the gear into the van. I got on the road by 10am, had to make it to Phoenix by the next night, which should be easy enough. Initially I was supposed to drive to Tucson, and get to stay in the Congress Hotel the night before our show as well, and be able to eat there (such good food!) but now everybody was flying into Phoenix, so I had to go there instead. That was sort of a drag, I’m not a big fan of Phoenix, sorry to say. I have an affinity with Tucson, having lived there in 1975-6, it held a special place in my heart for reason I think I wrote about here last year including lots of sixth grade awakenings to music and comic books. And head shops.

Also, when I picked up the van I learned that I had to return it on the Monday evening after the tour, which was the evening I had planned to visit my dad and my brother in Davis. So instead, I drove to Davis right away, and had my birthday lunch at my dad’s house, my brother took off from work and his wife wasn’t needed until 2pm, so that all worked out. We talked and generally had a nice lunch and cake, and I got all my mail that is delivered to my brother’s house. It’s convenient having a US address for internet shopping or ebay, that’s for sure. Provided you can wait until the next time you’re there to get it, of course. But the thing is, shipping to Sweden is not only expensive and many people just don’t do it, but also everything is stopped by customs and you have to pay tax on everything so things cost twice as much as they do if you buy and have delivered to the US. So even if it costs me $75 for an extra or overweight bag back to Sweden, it’s worth it. Though usually things that I buy are just clothes or guitar parts, they don’t weigh that much. This time it was two new pairs of Levi’s 501s, a time honored tradition with me: two pair, every several years, regular old 501s, shrink to fit. The old ones have holes now, not good for the upcoming Swedish winter. Also, a stuffed Marsupilami for Marlowe, who is obsessed with them. And some books, of course (new David Mitchell and Haruki Murakami!)

Then driving. Down interstate 5, all the way to the 210, across to meet the 10 in San Bernardino. I didn’t feel quite like my stomach could handle more coffee after lunch so sometime in the afternoon I went for one of those 5-hour energy drinks, which seemed to work against jet lag. By the time I got to Redlands, it was five hours later and I was starving. Unfortunately that meant Del Taco, at this hour. (DeltaCo?) Then onwards, made it to Indio before getting a hotel. This made the next day’s drive super easy, though I woke up the next day with a little cold, probably from the skirmishes through JFK or airplanes or simply the stress of the whole travel scenario. Anyway, I got to Phoenix mid-afternoon, stopped by Bizarre Guitars first, just to look—last time I was there, they had a guitar exactly like Johnny Hickman’s Les Paul, it was maybe a year or two younger (I think his is a 1978, this may have been an 1980) but came with a factory installed Kahler tremolo system, like he has on his. Apparently somebody bought it, played it for a year and then stuffed it under the bed. His guitar has been broken several times and is held together by dowels and glue and, to be frank, is starting to sound it. Not that he will ever give it up—it has its own Facebook page! But just in case, I wanted to see if they still had the twin there, but alas, some Phoenix rocker now owns it, too bad. Off to the hotel, waiting until everybody else came in. It was 107ºF/42ºC out, so I was absolutely not interested in walking around outdoors. Coming from a turbulent Swedish summer, sun, rain, hail, sun, thunderstorms, etc, where it actually got REALLY HOT for a week… well, that REALLY HOT meant maybe 90ºF/32ºC, so I wasn’t used to this over 100ºF/38ºC quite yet. I tried to cool off in the pool, but it was pretty warm itself.

Greg (Lisher, guitarist) was the first to get there, which was good, because I needed to change the strings on my guitar and didn’t have a string winder, so I got to borrow one from him. While changing strings, before everybody else arrived, an old friend of mine called me and wanted to know if I would go out with him to some open-mics. Ron is somebody I know from bar tending in San Francisco 20 years ago, he ended up in Phoenix for the usual reasons: ex-wife lives there and has custody of the kids. He has twin girls who are about 11 or so. So he lives there, at least until they grow up. He has fun by singing and playing harmonica at various blues jams or what-have-you, of which there are apparently many on any given night in Phoenix. And like LA, people are just ok with having to drive a half hour on freeways to get wherever you may want to go, the city is so sprawling.

The wind came up, it even rained for a bit. Ron came to pick me up, we went out to an Irish bar, had beer and played a little with some guy singing some songs. Then that wound down and we left to a country bar, but they had an actual band, no sit-ins. So after a beer there, we went to what Ron termed “the Zeitgeist of Phoenix,” (referring to our old haunt in SF, not like this bar was the spirit of the current city,) which, like the others, was in a strip mall. Everything was in strip malls here. This bar was the local bar with tattooed hot chicks bartending and maybe a motorcycle or two parked out front. I had some local strong IPA and was pretty wrecked by this point, being jet-lagged and unable to tell what time it was anyway. Ron drove me back to the hotel, I stumbled out and went to sleep.

Woke up an hour later, Ron calling to say, “hey, your instruments are in my house, they were still in the car!” Luckily for me, he was able to drop them by on his way to work the next day. I blame jet lag… So I was awake, went to Denny’s next door. Ron had said, La Quinta is Spanish for “next to Denny’s.” Victor came in and dined with me, telling me about his airport experiences landing in Phoenix in the weird weather, I told him that David (Lowery, singer) had texted me about landing the previous evening as well, that his plane had done a touch-and-go and then went around again. I had texted David that I was at an open mic, but he didn’t believe me.

Next day was a short drive to Tucson, but it turned out that Chris Pedersen (drummer) and Johnny Hickman (Cracker guitarist) had flown to Tucson, and David was going to drive with a photographer, Bradford Jones, who was working on shots for the upcoming Cracker album. So we had room to spare in the van, and got there early enough to go get some good coffee and such in downtown Tucson near the Hotel Congress. Chris P went to the Chicago Store to get new cymbal stands. I used to love the Chicago Music Store, back when it was a mess. Now it’s all cleaned up like a normal music store, it’s not as fun. Last year I looked at some lap steels that they had there, but they were overpriced and wouldn’t budge on the price, so I didn’t even bother to look this year.

Tucson was only slightly over 100º, so with a little kombucha from the market by the train station, loading was a relative breeze! In setting up we talked about the show and that we needed to rehearse a bit, but we had most of the afternoon. And the show idea was to do it “Apothecary Revue” style, like the shows we had done 15 years ago when Camper had first started up again, and with the addition of sections of acoustic duos and trios, it made for a varied texture. David and Johnny had been touring in the summer as an acoustic Cracker duo, then Greg had come out with them for a while making it into an acoustic CVB, so with sections of these in the mix, punctuated by 4 to 6 songs of Cracker or CVB, it made for a very entertaining set of songs. This meant, of course, that Chris P and Victor had to be the rhythm section for Cracker, so they had to practice a few of those songs, though Victor has played bass in Cracker before and knew most of them, Chris had only recently learned a few Cracker songs and hadn’t actually performed them.

So after some rehearsing we all went to eat at the Congress’ restaurant, which is really good, and they seated us outdoors on the patio (still very warm out) where there was a person playing blues on the little outdoor stage. They were pretty good, finger style blues, left handed on an old guitar, with a weird pinched sort of high voice. We could not tell if it was a 12 year old boy or a 20 year old boyish girl, actually, and were speculating all through dinner. They played many traditional blues songs and a few seemingly original. Whoever this kid was, they had studied their shit. When they were done, though, it turned out to be indeed a 12-year old boy names Roman Barton-Sherman, who came over to give us his CD, Interstellar Blues. Pretty intense stuff for a kid, doing “Hellhound on my Trail” and “See that my Grave is Kept Clean”, as well as his own Apocalyptic and Interstellar Blues. What is going on there in Tucson?

After dinner I had an hour to chill out, but I just stayed in my room overlooking Broadway and listened to a Beethoven symphony on the 1933 antique radio in my hotel room, followed by a John Adams violin concerto.

Antique radio in the Hotel Congress

The show itself went very smoothly, and since it was essentially a sequence of several short sets, it was easy for me who only had to play in the CVB parts. Easy warm up! It was cool to see Chris P drumming on the Cracker songs, really different groove than usual. In fact, it was sort of funny to see Cracker with the whole CVB rhythm section, but it worked in a new way. By the end of the show, the entire Hotel Congress and bars were flooded with all sorts of people, apparently the new street car lines just take everybody from the university area and dumps them downtown right on this corner, so the place was filled with a ton of really dumb looking kids dressed all cool or slutty and ready to get drunk. Victor, Chris and I sat with Brad and Miss K, yet more ex-San Franciscans (and ex-bartenders) who lived there and laughed at this new wave of clientele. When I went upstairs, I discovered that there were several people out in the courtyard, so I went to see what was going on and have a hit of pot. It turned out to be some kids who were there for some sort of Forest Service thing, they worked in King’s Canyon in California most of the time, and then another couple who either were or were not with them, and then another silent person typing on an iPad. I think they were on mushrooms, one of them was doing yoga in his underwear, others were lying around grooming one another. It was very warm, of course, outdoors here. I talked with them for a while about King’s Canyon and the forest service, and one guy who looked sort of like Tobias Fünke explained how he cooked pork shoulder for them when they were back at their back country cabin. The nearly naked guy sat next to me and I noticed he had words tattooed on him and asked about them, and they turned out to be literary quotes, including Richard Brautigan. Kids these days, I tell ya.

The idea for the next day was to rent a second car, but Bradford wanted to photograph David and Johnny more out in the desert along the way, so he drove them, and the rest of us fit in the van. Only a two hour drive, anyway, to the Crescent Ballroom in Phoenix. Another place with good food, by the way. Though it was back to being super hot, so loading wasn’t quite as nice as it could have been. Luckily, like most places in the desert in the US, it was overly-air-conditioned inside.

Chris and Greg, mesmerized by Flamenco!

After sound check, we ventured out to the restaurant in front, and ate some great Mexican food while watching an incredible Flamenco act, one guitar, two dancers, one singer, lots of hocket clapping, really amazing. When they finished their set, everybody’s phones started beeping a weather alert, everybody went outside, so we went to look, and a huge haboob dust storm was approaching. The sky got very dark very fast, and then the air became very gritty so we retreated and went backstage.

haboob!

By the time the show started, the place was packed, we did a similar Apothecary Revue style of show, it rocked in all the right places, high or low, the audience loved it, a very successful show. Brad and K had come up from Tucson, Victor and I talked with them and Ron for a while after the show, then we left to our hotel. Next day’s drive was to Las Vegas, which was several hours.

You could tell the weather was going to get weird when we left, though it was mostly behind us. We drove through the desert and it continued to look like ominous clouds were chasing us, though they never really caught up with us. We made it to Las Vegas and drove to the Backstage Billiards Bar on Fremont St, but nobody was there yet, so we all walked down into the covered area of Fremont St to find some food. Fremont St was the original downtown of Las Vegas, with the big waving cowboy neon signs and the gold panner, but now that whole section is all covered and there are zip lines to ride on and it’s a big walking mall with clowns and street performers. It’s very bizarre. The first thing we passed was the Heart Attack Grill, with its adverts for double and triple bypass burgers and highest fat content milk shakes. Finding nothing within a few blocks, we turned around and went back to some place we passed early on, which was advertising the “World’s Largest Pint,” as if a unit of measurement could expand or contract within the physical universe. On the way, I was taken in by a generalized crap store, seeing little boob-shaped cups that said “I ♥ Boobs” on them, and they even had little ones, perfect for Marlowe who had stopped breast feeding 9 months earlier but still was entirely hands-on with the boob whenever she could be. I figured she would love a boob cup, and indeed I think her reaction was “why aren’t all cups like this!?”

boob cup

boob cup

Back to the Backstage Billiards Bar after an espresso at a cool cafe/record store across the street, we loaded in and discovered that the giant backstage lounge behind the stage was a backlight psychedelic experience. Probably fun to party in, I guess, but not exactly what we oldsters want from a backstage: not enough light to read! They said, most of the younger bands like it… It made for a great studio environment for Bradford to shoot photos, though, we even did a cool new Camper Van Beethoven promo shot with backlight posters behind us. We want to make the photo itself into a backlight poster.

The black light hallway

The black light hallway

The show itself, however, was fairly awful. Not because we were bad, but because there were only about 30 people there, which was a real letdown after the sold-out Phoenix show. We should have played Flagstaff, maybe. Oh well. We played, we packed up and left, but not before the very happy promoter came with pizza for us and a bottle of Clos Du Bois Pinot. Strange, There was some drama involving the hotels which were supposedly booked to be near the airport, but in fact were near the north Las vegas airport (?), too far from the “real” airport, so had to book a new hotel. Which was fine, if seedy, so Bobby (tour manager) had to stay in the handicap-accessible room right next to the lobby in front and park the van right in front of his door. And I’m sure he woke up with every noise that walked by.

Apparently that day, Phoenix got pounded by rain and flooded, the streets flowing with water that could not soak into the dry ground. When we left the next day, we headed into the same storm. The storm had flooded Interstate 15 and stopped traffic entirely near Baker. David warned us, he had rented a car to go to somewhere else (Palm Springs or visiting family, I don’t know) so he drove a different route through the Mojave. We got stuck in dead traffic for hours in the rain. It took about 8 hours to get into Los Angeles. Victor and Chris P avoided this by flying out of Las Vegas to the Bay Area to work on mixing Monks of Doom music for an upcoming album.

I stayed that evening at the Beachwood Canyon home of Marc and Valenta, friends from the Bay Area who had moved down to LA because Marc runs Amoeba Records, and while the original stores are in Berkeley and then SF, the Berkeley students are just not interested in music anymore, and the LA store is thriving. Marc was unfortunately not there, he was up in Washington buying a record collection, but Valenta was there with her teenager, so we watched Dr Who and ate a light dinner. They went to bed, and I explored the record collection.

Well, you can imagine that Marc would have a pretty decent record collection. In fact, the closet with the turntable in it wasn’t exorbitantly large, but every record on the shelf was somehow special. His collection there was all specialties. I found albums I had never seen, albums I hadn’t seen for years, albums that I wanted to listen to… so I basically drank the Clos Du Bois and listened to LPs for hours, probably until 4am or so. Incredible. Amongst them: Eugene Chadbourne’s first album from 1976, “Acoustic Guitar Vol. 1″, the proto-psychedelic British band July, a 1983 Henry Cow 45rpm 12” benefit for miners, the one Peter Laughner album, a 1972 John Abercrombie/Marc Cohen jazz album called “Friends”, several late 50s avant-garde albums with pieces by John Cage, Christian Wolff, Stockhausen, Feldman, Boulez, Earl Brown… just incredible to listen to. Worth the lack of sleep.

The Listening  Room

The Listening Room, and some album covers

Greg had been dropped off at a hotel on Franklin, and his girlfriend Kacey drove down the next day, starting way early, so she got there by noon when we were heading out for breakfast. We picked them up and went off to King’s Road Cafe, a place I used to love when I lived down here. And, in fact, it was still excellent and strangely not crowded at lunchtime on a Tuesday. The coffee is their own blend and roast, and they do long-pull espresso for a normal cup. Yum! Greg Allen from Omnivore Recordings, who had recently put out reissues of the two Camper Van Beethoven albums we had done for Virgin (Our Beloved Revolutionary Sweetheart and Key Lime Pie) came by, and we went to visit his office after lunch, and grab some promo copies of other interesting things that they had put out, including the first of the line of Game Theory albums, Blaze of Glory. The release of this album is monumental and should involve an entire blog entry on its own, which I hope to write sometime this fall… I’m very happy to say that I suggested to them to go with Omnivore for releasing Scott Miller’s catalog after his death, and that they did go with Omnivore. It’s going to be great to get all of the Game Theory albums out again over the next few years.

I had a free day in LA, but no real plans, though I was switching residences and going to stay with a friend, May, in Echo Park. So the next day, while my host was at work, Valenta and I took a walk around the lake in Echo Park, and admired the myriad water lilies that grow there. The lake had become stagnant a few years back, and they closed it off and redid the whole place to become a waste water effluent system, with flow through from the hills and down into the water basin of downtown. Fortunately for the city, some local citizen had saved water lily seeds from every kind that had ever grown there, and then provided them to the city when the new lake was built. At a cost, I hear. Regardless, there were purple, white, red and orange water lilies, and many waterfowl and fish, and turtles. When I lived in Los Angeles, I had a pet turtle given to me by an ex-girlfriend (to keep me company in her absence) that grew and grew until it was a raging menace. Then I started touring with Sparklehorse all the time and couldn’t get people to take care of the turtle, so I gave it to a fish shop… and I just bet it ended up in this lake. I think I saw him—F. M. Luder was his name, named after Fox Mulder’s pseudonym that he wrote for Omni magazine under.

Echo Park Lake

Echo Park Lake

May grew up in this house on the backside of Echo Park, and one by one all of her siblings and parents moved away, leaving her with the house. It’s pretty big and on a weird windy street, it was a nice place to hang out, though again it was incredibly hot everywhere this week, so a walk over the hill down Echo Park Blvd to Fix Coffee took all my energy. May knew of many and suggested her favorite Thai restaurants, so we met Greg and Kacey for dinner at Sanamluang that evening over on Hollywood Blvd.

Bobby had driven the van and gear out to his friend’s place in Ventura, so he drove in the next day to try to get two amps fixed that had broken in the loading and unloading, one with a broken tube and one with a punctured speaker. Unfortunately it couldn’t happen that quickly, and we all had to get to Pioneertown for the start of the 10th Annual Cracker and Camper Van Beethoven Camp-Out Festival that day. I ended up getting picked up by Greg and Kacey in Kacey’s car so Bobby could try to deal with amp stuff, and we drove directly out to Yucca Valley to our traditional hotel, now a Travelodge.

The First evening was all acoustic, all indoors, and involved the Cracker duo of David and Johnny and the addition of Greg for Camper songs. I had really enjoyed seeing them play acoustic last year, so was looking forward to it, and the sound system was beefed up with subs indoors, so it all sounded better this year. It was great seeing the Crumbs, the fans who come to this festival every year, everybody was happy to be there and happy to hear the music. Plus Pappy & Harriet’s Pioneertown Palace is just such a great place out there in the weird Pioneertown desert. Good food, good beer, good people.

Our festival has ended up having themed costume nights. This first evening was dedicated to Frank Funaro, our drummer, who had had a tendon reattached on his snare hand in May and couldn’t play. Last year, he had done a solo set wherein he played bass with a fuzz box and sang the entire Ramones first album. Alone. So this year, on this first night, everybody wore Funaro shirts, that looked like the Ramones logo with Funaro across the top and every name being Frank. It was a little creepy to see groups of people with these shirts wandering around, they do look a bit governmental… At one point after the show everybody gathered for a photo and Frank addressed them to tell them that they were crazy.

"You're all nuts!"

“You’re all nuts!”

So went the first night. The next day was Friday, day two of the festival. It was something like 112ºF/45ºC when we left the hotel, I had only spent a few minutes in the pool and was only mildly cooled off and not at all ready to load gear in the afternoon sun. Luckily, it did cool down a bit in the late afternoon, but the poor guys building the outdoor sound system were suffering. We soundchecked and then set up for my own set, which was going to start the outdoor show at 7:30. The Paul Chesne band was between my set and the Camper set, but they were just going to line check before playing.

I was thrilled to be playing with Chris Pedersen on drums and Victor Krummenacher on bass. I really learned how to play in a band with these guys, years and years ago. So tonight we would just be improvising. Chris asked if we would be starting somewhere, but instead I said, how about if we end up somewhere? I had been thinking a lot about Kate Bush’s recent return to the stage in London and how she played the entire second side of The Hounds of Love, entitled The Ninth Wave, which was one of my favorite pieces of music, so I suggested that we end up with The Morning Fog, the last song in that piece. We got on stage to check sounds, but they put up the sound system, so we started playing right off. We played for a half an hour, and indeed did end up moving from E Minor to E Major and playing The Morning Fog. I don’t know exactly what happened in between, but somehow it did happen.

we’re just making this shit up on the spot.

After us, Paul Chesne’s band played, ranging from country-ish to psychedelic and back again, a good opening for Camper. Camper played last outdoors, and the stage sound was better than it had been in any previous year, as was, I am told, the front of house sound. This night was Punk vs New Wave themed, and people were dressed in all sorts of interesting ways. Camper decided to dress up in our Funaro shirts, like a real punk band. Camper was both punk and new wave to begin with, so we could really dress however we wanted. After the show, after packing, Victor and Troy kidnapped me out to a house that they were staying in in Wonder Valley, near 29 Palms. It was in the middle of nowhere, a nice little place with lots of mosaic tiling. Really beautiful. And complete with internet! So when we got there at 1AM, I got to video chat with Sanna and Marlowe back in Sweden. I tried to show them the house, but it was too dark to really show them the desert around it.

We got a few texts from Greg and others wondering where we were and why weren’t we drinking beer in the courtyard of the hotel? But instead of partying, we went to bed in hot rooms and I read a bit of a book there called “Social Media is Bullshit!” before falling asleep. When we got up the next day, I could see just how desolate this house was, even though on the map it was on some sort of city-type of grid, there were simply no other structures around for a ways.

Saturday was themed “I want out of the circus.” Victor and Troy and I made a loop through Joshua Tree National Park on our way back, stopping for a couple short hikes in the blazing sun. It is so beautiful there, the rocks are really other-worldly. We stopped by the hotel briefly before heading up to Pappy & Harriet’s for an afternoon signing extravaganza, where the Crumbs all get their posters and albums signed. An endless series of autographs! Michael Wertz had outdone himself yet again on the posters, but he had had to leave early after he and Andy were there the previous evening, as their dog, Olive, was sick and in fact ended up passing away. A super sad event to happen that particular weekend. After the signing, and more eating of the barbecued food, we went back to the hotel in Yucca Valley to rest for a bit. The main stage had Los Rios Rock School on first, who were 11-13 year olds playing Cracker songs, so we had to catch a bit of that before going! After them, Brant Bjork and the Bros played, but sadly I missed them while napping to prepare to play with Victor who was on at 1am that night. We got back to Pioneertown in time to catch the latter half of Cracker’s set, which sounded incredible with the updated sound system, so I bet the previous night had sounded good too! Ben Mize was drumming with them, and he sounded definitely a year stronger, I think the last time I saw him play with Cracker was the previous year, when he subbed for Frank.

After the outdoor set, Johnny Hickman played indoors a bit with the Hickmen and then with the Dangers, and then Victor’s band played. Victor had scared Chris P and I earlier by saying that if John Hanes and Paul Olguin didn’t make it in time, we were going to have to be the rhythm section! I was mentally preparing to play bass, but they did arrive and Bruce Kaphan was there to play pedal steel. An all star band, with Victor in a top hat leading this flying circus. Greg played lead guitar. I came in for the last few songs on violin, ending the whole festival with “I’ll Meet You In Paradise.”

Victor Krummenacher’s Flying Circus

The following day, we headed back into Los Angeles to play at the Echoplex, a benefit for Musack, an organization that provides instruments for music education. It was a funny show, literally: they had comedians between Cracker and Camper, and a band called Elvis Prestello that did Elvis Costello songs like Elvis Presley. We ate Vietnamese food across the street, as we had done when playing there before, and waited around in the tiny dressing rooms until playing. Both Cracker and Camper Van Beethoven sets were powerful, again, by the last shows, we had really warmed up. And then it was over. We drove to an airport near LAX, I tried to stay up to get paid when Bobby counted out merch money, but was just too tired. I slept a full 8 hours and got up the next day with everybody else already gone off to their flights, went to get the van and located a Peet’s Coffee nearby, drove over for coffee and a bagel, and began the drive up to SF.

As I mentioned, I had intended to drive to Davis on this Monday, but had to get the van back to SFO by 9pm, so I just drove straight to Victor’s house, got there about 7pm, unloaded, we managed to fit the removed seats back in and then went off to SFO to return the van. I took the little air train to the SFO BART station, whereupon the Bart train closed its doors in my face and I had to wait another 20 minutes for the next one. Finally back to Glen Park, Victor picked me up and brought me back to his house where he had cooked locally caught salmon and made buttermilk mashed potatoes and asparagus. That made it all good.

I didn’t have to fly home until Wednesday morning, so I had Tuesday to take care of a few errands like getting a new guitar case for my touring Stratocaster, whose case had lost its remaining latches on this run. Ten years, that one lasted. That evening Victor and I ate at La Nebbia with a friend I used to work with at Red Hill Books (now gone) and we had some amazing food right there in Victor’s neighborhood. Next morning, Super Shuttle to SFO.

The flights home were much better than the flights there. The ticket agent warned me that he would have to charge for my 58lb bag, albs overweight. I looked in it a bit, but said, yeah, I can’t move anything, just charge me. He scribbled on a note to show me, “I am not charging you, don’t thank me out loud.”

The plane landed at JFK on time, and my next flight was from a gate right next to the one we landed at! Super. Had time to eat a salad so I wouldn’t have to survive on Delta Airlines terrible food. Landed back at Arlanda at about noon the next day, and got picked up by my father in law, came home and showered, had a cup of coffee and went to pick up Marlowe at Preschool! Now I’m back to being house husband for a while, I guess!

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Posted in Camper Van Beethoven, Music, Touring

Blast from the past: 1995 interview about technology and gender

I was recently looking around for some info on my old computers, trying to remember the sequence of machines, and found this interview done by Liz Belile for some publication or another* (probably a ‘zine of some sort? Remember those?)

What’s new? This was almost 20 years ago, right about when we had our first web browsers.

________________________________

 

Interview about Technology:

Your name, gender, job title or brief self-description.

Jonathan Segel, male, puppet figurehead of MAGNETIC (a company that makes music CDs, among other things. Music is part of a larger context of “metatool” manufacturing, tools that allow the user to make or use other tools. Language is the best example…) Otherwise, a musician, writer, erstwhile San Francisco bartender and general nuisance.

 

What kinds of technology do YOU use 1) for work 2) for pure fun?

I use and have used many forms of “technology” for purposes that cross both categories. The computer that I am typing this into, a Macintosh Quadra 636, is used to make music (sequencing, lyric typing, score writing), pictures and words for business and fun (web and advertising, desktop publishing) and to track sales (if such happen).

Being a producer of CDs, I use various sound manipulation devices mostly common to recording studios, both large and small, including computers, tape decks, mixing boards, microphones, sound processors of all sorts—digital and analog, and both electrical and acoustic musical instruments.

I have to assume that by “technology” you mean electrical tech, otherwise to my list of entertainment tech that I use regularly (television, radio, telephone and answering machine, fax machine) I would add books and magazines, which are indeed manufactured by machines. I still view the printing press as technology.

In addition to this list I would like to add the internal combustion engine, an invention I greatly admire and use in many forms for fun, travel and hauling physical objects, including the aforementioned.

 

How has new technology affected your life directly? Indirectly?

I have tried to keep in touch with a semblance of world-wide pop culture for the past ten years, and to keep a hand in it. the technology of recording studios and (previously vinyl, now CD) record manufacturing has enabled me to put out a product into the ever-expanding spiral of human art, hopefully to be heard by and perhaps to inspire a greater number of people than I could have, say, in 1950. As time goes on and the technology to do such things becomes more and more prevalent and available to the public at large, more and more people will be (and are) able to do the same. This affects me directly, in that, as more people are able to put their own art into the market of the world, mine as an individual becomes less unique in its availability and more common in a larger context, thus less able to support me financially as an artist. Is this bad? I don’t really know. Obviously it means I have to support myself otherwise (preying on humanity’s addiction to alcohol as a bartender, currently) but I have to believe that more art from humanity in general is a good thing, ultimately everybody expressing their own creativity rather than relying on specified “artists” strikes me as a good idea. I suppose there will always be prodigies in art, sports, etc., but recapturing the element of actual “doing” rather than being spectators bodes well for humankind.

 

What would you like your computer to do for you?

I was 6 when we put men on the moon (…if you believe that they did…) Growing up, I was convinced that technology would progress at an astounding rate and have been seriously let down that it didn’t keep up with my futuristic expectations. I want not only my computer but even my toaster to be semi-intelligent. I would prefer all my machines to act according to my command and to understand what I am telling them to do, e.g. “please make me some toast”. I used to carry around a stainless steel zippo lighter to remind me of what I wanted my computer to be: small enough to fit into my hand and artificially intelligent, so I could tell it what to keep in its memory and it could project holographically any visual artwork I needed to work on.

 

Have you ever experienced CyberSex? What happened?

Unless you mean talking to a known and real sex partner on the telephone, no.

 

Do you read technical journals or online tech talk?

Yes, I read (sometimes) magazines on sound production and mixing, computers and motorcycles. I rarely use online tech talk, but I do sometimes call my brother on the telephone when I have computer problems.

 

How are you treated when you go into a consumer electronics store or a guitar store?

I generally prepare myself to enter such a store armed with information enough to disarm the salesmen, usually only entering when I actually intend to buy something and I know what it is. Of course, with musical instruments the interesting stores sell used equipment, so technological knowledge is less important. Here I have experienced both ends of the spectrum: in big cities where I am not a known quantity, I am treated as an amateur by the generally snobbish (because of the elite nature of musical knowledge) clerks, however in, say, Santa Cruz, where I used to live, the smaller stores recognize me as a professional musician and treat me with a respect that allows me inside the elite circle and I get to try the latest guitars into the shop and hear their histories. I think this kind of in-on-it or out-of-it treatment happens with most tech or guitar shops, it’s a part of the supply and demand style of capitalism: people who make records (say, rock stars) are given music by others who would be glad to have them hear it (they are, after all, experts in the field, proven simply by the fact that they make records), while those who don’t have to buy it.

 

The Gender Thing

Do males and females interact differently with computers? Please cite an example of this if you think so. What does this say about us?

Ok, I have to say that my experience will probably be the opposite of the general consensus in that I have read that the computer industry considers the Mac/IBM dichotomy to be some kind of analog to the right/left brain dichotomy and as such the right brain, picture oriented users are more often female while the left brain, code users are more often male. I would point out that in exact opposition to that, most female computer users I know use IBMs and can do and understand, for example, database work better than I can, better in fact than most of the male computer users I know, who use Macs and do picture stuff.

Regardless of that, I do not believe that males and females interact differently with computers, it’s an individual thing. Both go both ways.

 

How does “interactive” technology affect our consciousness toward the future? What is the role of technology in the future, specifically for women? And for men?

…Tough question. It seems to me that “interactive” technology is based on entertaining, even in its mode of information retrieval. I don’t see it as helping people to do things in the real physical world, even in terms of hand-eye coordination (frisbee would be as good as star wars in training jet fighters) and I worry about people abusing the time lag between input and response preventing them be fully and truly “there” at any given moment, which is something that I think is important for conscious human beings.

I grew up in a female-dominated (read: single mom) household during the 60s and 70s and never really distinguished differences in the roles of males and females in society, so I don’t see technology’s role as being different for one or the other gender…?

 

How has technology affected the way men and women interact with each other? Can technology improve interactions with men and women?

I have only heard of, never experienced online dating, (or, in fact unknown-quantity dating in the real world, always seen friends!) Although I gather that these are common things in the world-out-there. I don’t know about how it affects interactions.

Where I live, for the most part people are beyond assuming that one or the other gender knows more or less about technology being discussed. Can it improve interactions? I doubt it. Telephones will still relay more emotional information than email.

 

Can we have better sex through technology?

Don’t know yet. Have they built the Orgasmatron?

 

The Purely Philosophical Thing:

Is technology inherently evil?

No. People are the only thing that could ever be inherently evil.

 

Who gets access to technology?

Presently, those with the resources. Of course, our governments have the resources, enough to allow every person access, but it isn’t done yet. I think computers could be useful educational tools in literacy programs worldwide, even for uninterested children. Maybe the web will be used as informational rather than strictly entertaining. I haven’t been able to get my computer to teach me Japanese yet, but I have learned an awful lot about goats.

 

 

 

 

* apparently it was called “GoDigital!” says Liz.

 

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Posted in Technology

A Short Tour, part two

Returning to our lovely Vallejo Ramada Inn, we bought a six pack of Lagunitas IPA on the way, and when I went down to Chris’ room to pick one up, I ran into some 20-something kids on the stairs outside his room smoking a joint. I asked for a hit, but the guy said he didn’t like sharing. I see. That turned out to mean that he didn’t like passing them back and forth between people’s mouths, so after he had had enough he handed it to me. I saw Bobby across the courtyard and beckoned to him, when he came over I handed it to him and he wondered which way it was going, but at that point it was all him.

So these kids were growers from “The gateway to Yosemite!”, which I found fascinating.  The guy went to fetch his phone to show me pictures of his starter plants, one that he said was the typical pride of California called “Blue [something or other]” and the other strain was called “Girl Scout Cookies”. The girl was working hospice of some sort or another, they were of course there for the rock festival. Unfortunately they were there to see bands that they had grown up on, turned on by their parents: Third Eye Blind and The Bare Naked Ladies. Yikes! Third Eye Blind had played either before or after Cracker that day, so I’d asked if they had stayed for that. Who? Spin Doctors…? I said, hey you should see Camper Van Beethoven, although we overlap with the Bare Naked Ladies tomorrow. Bobby had some short discussion with the girl, who was smoking a cigarette, about her musical taste and determined that she would not like CVB at all anyway so don’t bother. He’s a hard sell, obviously.

Then suddenly the Moldavian girl came over to tell us that we were scaring other hotel guests by hanging out on the stairs, so we had to go into the courtyard. Goldie was already there in the jacuzzi. Goldie is actually named Aaron, a friend and/or old bandmate of Bobby’s whom we have worked with several times, including at the Camp-Out in Pioneertown. He was acting roadie for the weekend, he had actually singlehandedly gone to Victor’s to get the West Coast gear in the rental van and driven it up to Napa before the Cracker set, which was before Victor got home. Victor and Troy had in fact just returned from Hawaii that afternoon and he was at home practicing a bit, as he was going to play bass at the festival show the next day, David Immergluck had flown straight to Los Angeles after Portland to get his shit together: after the next week’s shows he was heading out on tour with the Counting Crows for most of the summer, and then their record would be coming out in the fall so I imagine he’ll be busy for the entire next year.

We hung out a bit near the jacuzzing Goldie, the other couple and Bobby and him talked in their special 20-something language which I lost the thread of. Couldn’t really follow it. Suddenly she said to Bobby, “so, you gonna offer me a job?” I have no idea what they were talking about. I rudely asked why they were still smoking cigarettes if everybody nowadays knew what they did to you, how they prematurely aged you and how the money just went straight to heartless corporations, how could kids in this day and age have any excuse to do so…? “Yeah, I keep trying to quit.” I wanted to at least get the guy to come over to see Camper the next day, but I don’t know if he ever did, he would have to abandon his girlfriend.

The Moldavian girl came again to shoo us out of the jacuzzi area, but it was getting cold anyway. I asked Bobby if he could put her on the list for the next day, he said no problem, but again, I don’t know if it ever really happened, even though she wasn’t working and was very excited to do so. How on earth did she ever end up working in a Ramada Inn in Vallejo, California, anyway, I wonder?

So the next day I got up and ventured into the shopping center next door, with the intention of exploring Target for a new suitcase. Of course, first stop was coffee, which meant Starbucks, the 128kbps mp3 of coffee. “Good enough is good enough” Chris was already there. After coffee, I did make it to Target but couldn’t decide on a new suitcase (I re-considered the idea of switching everything over before flying to LA and it seemed daunting. My current suitcase was a lovely green Sierra Designs that lasted about a year and a half on tour before losing half its plastic base and half of its pull-handle, with the screws winding their way out of the corner protectors. Thanks, REI, for providing such quality gear. Target had some ~$100 “Swiss Gear” models…) On the way back, I passed Eyebrow Hub, an establishment hitherto unknown. I thought I was in the club this whole time, too.

this is where we meet.

Chris and I reconvened at the hotel and packed everything into the Kia, headed off to the festival, this time with “artist parking”, which was gonna make all the difference. To tell the truth, I was already a little freaked out by the experience of the thousands of people the day before and the rush of time at festivals, and simply thinking about it on the way over caused yet another spasmodic bite, this time the side of my tongue! Now I had matching bites on the cheek and tongue. Great. That always makes your tongue feel like it’s too big for your mouth so you end up biting it more. It’s weird how a small inflammation from a tongue wound can make your tongue feel many times larger than it is in your mouth, like it takes up all the space between the sides of your teeth and more, how huge it feels in your mouth… (I’m just prodding you into freaking out about your own tongues right now.)

We made it to the festival and got to park backstage, which made things much easier. It was a short walk behind the main stage to the tents where we had our backstage, roughly the same area as Cracker had the day before. Bobby had cryptically mentioned (he claims “not so cryptic…”, though it was a late night conversation revealing new plans) that I would have to drive the gear and return the rental van after the show, which was actually a drag for me, so I had to re-clarify what was happening. Indeed, rather than have the guy (Goldie) whom we were paying to be the roadie for this festival drive the gear back, he was driving to Sacramento with David and Bobby after the show and flying to LA. This was because our set time was made later than initially planned for, though in fact our 5pm set time seemed better to me than playing earlier. So I was ‘volunteered’ to drive the equipment van back to Victor’s, unload it and then return it to the rental car center at SFO, which meant getting Victor to pick me up there later that evening. I’m usually up for driving anyway, so it wasn’t a big deal, though it meant no beer after the show which I really would have liked (they had some interesting ones backstage that I never tasted), and that extra time spent unloading and driving to the airport—SFO is a good half hour from the city. I mention all of this because people always think that being “on tour” is all about getting to a venue and going in and playing music, but the truth is that it’s all day long doing other things (or worse, not being able to do anything for hours) and the hour or so on stage is just the visible, and fun, part.

Bit by bit we moved all our gear to the side of the stage, and Chris set up the drums, our West Coast kit. I had my actual West Coast gear as well, which meant my real pedalboard and my black Stratocaster, and our Bel-Air brand mandolin, made by a company in Richmond, VA that David likes, who made decent inexpensive instruments. Much better than the crap Fender mandolin we had used for the previous two shows. I would definitely try to fly this one to the southern California shows as well. I couldn’t really set anything up prior to our actual stage time, though, so I just assessed what was there.

Then we got to wait around. We ate lunch at catering, this time we had full day passes for meals. I could have watched the Spin Doctors on the main stage, I guess… I did try to see Keep Shelly in Athens on the “Sprint” stage before us, but they were having some problems syncing their computer to the drums and guitar or something. When I came back by to see how it was going they were unenthusiastically playing what sounded like prerecorded things and barely paying attention to the scant audience in the mid-afternoon sun. It took them a while to get their shit cleared, the Black Angels’ drummer was setting her stuff up already on the side of the stage and we had to get our shit loaded onto the stage. As is usual in CVB, it’s every man for themselves, so I put my head down and tried not to pay attention to the people in the field in front of us while I set up my gear.

I got it all set up, but the sun was strong and nearly directly at us by then, our set time was 5pm-6pm, a full hour (at a festival!) facing into the setting sun. I figured out a way to put the guitar in the shade of the canopy and hang the violin on the same stand, but I knew that when we were playing I would have to hang the violin on the mic stand when playing guitar, which would mean the violin back would be directly at the sun, not so great for an acoustic instrument, it can heat the joints and cause them to unglue.
David had bought shirts from the show “Silicon Valley” and he was wearing an“Aviato” shirt, while I had one that the character Guilfoyle wears that had a circular elongated whale-airplane thing. I thought that this was a pretty good, yet subtle joke, (though Napa is a ways from Silicon Valley, many current and former SV players live there), but also especially as Chris Pedersen was wearing an Eraserhead t-shirt, a signifier of yesteryear’s zeitgeist. David wore a Mexican poncho over his t-shirt while he set his stuff up (or Bobby did) so that nobody would see, as per the show, I wore a button shirt over my t-shirt anyway.

Pied Piper.

The crowd were divided by some sort of barrier that split the front of the stage nearer to my side (stage left, west) and then cut across in that direction (west) to hold in some category of audient (not underage..? VIP? I had no idea and could not tell.) On the other side of that divide were many young girls against the front railing who were obviously there to hold the front row for some later band (Black Angels or The Fray…? Would they really be interested in holding it all day to see The Fray? And, horror of horrors, being subjected to Camper Van Beethoven! Oh the Humanity!)

When we began, David spoke of our new record, saying how it was the Southern California companion to the previous album, which provoked boos. It’s a festival in Northern California, man! He got mad and then said how Northern Californians were so pretentious about that shit (true) and that whenever we mentioned Northern California when playing in SoCal, nobody minded (true), but that just made some people mad as well. Good start! He threw his poncho out to them.

poncho!

poncho!

The pit had weird old hairy cameramen filming us the whole time, which I realized later was for the giant screen above us. On the crowded side, the young chicks texted most of the time, the row behind them were actual fans who wave hands and pumped fists and sang along, and then rows of confused audience back to the level of the soundbooth. The field behind that was pretty much empty. On the VIP side, it was sparser, with people intermittently paying attention, otherwise laughing and telling each other jokes of some sort. This side drank wine. While we played we could feel ourselves getting burned by the direct sun in our faces.

I was using my good gear, my full West Coast pedalboard and my actual guitar. Regardless, my guitar sputtered, I was just not having good luck on this tour equipment-wise. Neither was Victor, some cable of his was cutting in and out, and my guitar jack cut in and out, and at a festival where everything is time-critical there is no time to try to diagnose let alone fix such problems. Victor had some cable swapping, I just tried to kick at my gear, which was probably dusty from disuse for the previous 6 months, and shook my guitar cables, trying to shy away from the glaring sun, but when I turned around for a little respite from the crowds and the sun, the inner stage had strobe lights around the upper edges which made me feel like I was either being electrocuted or coming onto acid.

Bottlerock!

This was the first show without David Immergluck as well, with Victor playing bass. He hadn’t rehearsed with us, and while he knew the material of course, he had never played the newer songs live. I mean, we had only done so twice ourselves…

David had played the main stage the day before with Cracker, and just like that was back to being the singer of Camper. It’s pretty amazing. It’s actually more amazing when we do shows with both bands, that he can sing and play guitar for that long every day (and I mean, he can really belt it out!) but also to be able to have two band’s repertoire at his fingertips and tip of tongue so that after playing with one band for several days he can just switch and front the other one and then drop right back into the first one.

Well, we made it through, regardless of any difficulties, and the set was successful and we certainly didn’t make any blaring mistakes (despite Chris’ overrunning the fast middle section of “Summer Days” as it entered the slow section…) and so then we packed everything up as quickly as possible, and figured out where it was all going to go off the stage, ran around like scurrying mice with our gear until we discovered where it would go. Festivals are always pretty hectic. Then we left back to the backstage tents and tried to calm down and eat dinner. I needed to move my suitcase from the rental car to Victor’s car in the artist parking area, but was stopped as I walked down the pathway by security who were clearing a path so that LL Cool J could walk uninterrupted to the main stage. Once he and his entourage walked across the road, we were allowed to continue.

The LA-headed contingent was taking the rental car back to the Sacramento airport, I got the keys to the van, Victor and Troy left in his car, Greg went with Kacey back to Alameda. I went to the van to make sure everything was in it, and asked the security people how to get out from where it was parked behind the stage… “same way you came in” umm, yeah, except it wasn’t me that drove it in…

Not too much Sunday traffic returning to SF, except of course once we hit the Bay Bridge. The “new” Bay Bridge, it wasn’t open when I lived here. It has palm trees now on the East Bay side, which is weird, like, “hey it’s California, you’re driving across to LA!” But then you hit Treasure Island and the weather turns entirely foggy and cold. Ha ha! Also the old bridge on the side of it, being torn down, that’s reassuring! Well, then on to Victor’s, I beat Victor and Troy there and unloaded the gear. When they got there, we stacked it in his garage, and I drove the van to the airport and waited for Victor to come and get me at the “Kiss ‘n’ Fly” waiting area. Home by 10pm. A long day.

I hadn’t actually realized that the following day was a day off until it happened. I hadn’t planned anything fun in San Francisco, and had to leave the next morning anyway, so I just went shopping in Noe Valley for toys and clothes for my daughter and chocolate for my wife. The bookstore that I used to work at (Phoenix) is no longer the same, I think the owner sold it. I worked more at her other store on Bernal Hill called Red Hill Books, anyway, and it certainly no longer existed. The bookstore that was Phoenix is still a bookstore, but it isn’t the same. The bar I used to work at on 24th St, the Rat ‘n’ Raven, is now called the Valley Tavern, and I have yet to venture in for a beer.

The chocolate selection on 24th St.

The chocolate selection on 24th St.

Kacey came over and she and Troy and I sat and talked for most of the afternoon, which was excellent, I hadn’t had that opportunity for years. Plus she brought me a bunch of coffee; she works for Peets! So I’m set for the summer. Or at least until July.

The next day we were off for the last leg of this tour, a whole two more shows. We flew United, which we all have super status on by now, so we were able to get the mandolin and merch boxes as checked baggage, and Victor and I both got upgraded to first class seats. I was in 1A. Too bad to waste that on a flight that was only an hour long! We landed at LAX and got picked up and dropped at the assy-enda, dropped our bags and got back in the car and headed to San Diego. We made it in plenty of time, the club wasn’t even open yet, so we headed around the other side of the freeway to a taqueria called Lucha Libre, which turned out to be excellent.

We would be playing at the Casbah this evening, a club next to the I-5 in downtown San Diego that had been in the same place for 25 years, and was somewhere nearby before that. We’d all played at it in many bands over the years. I think I played there with Sparklehorse, even. And with Magnet, Hieronymus Firebrain, Granfaloon Bus, Dieselhed, etc. Last time I was there was with the Cracker duo, an acoustic evening with David Lowery, Johnny Hickman and I. It’s not bad, not great. Nice people run it, but there is no backstage room, so the band has to smush into the office for privacy. David Immergluck would be joining us again, which meant that I got to use his guitar as I had for rehearsals, a Japanese reissue of an early 70s blue flower print Stratocaster.

A band called Curtsy was the opening band for this show and the next one, a five piece with two guitars, bass, drums and occasional keyboard, vocals by a man and a woman. They had a sort of shoegaze-mixed-with-early 80s sound, nice harmonizing and drony guitars. We would be using their gear as well, though the club guys also borrowed some friend’s amp to get us enough amps—with Immergluck, we need 4 guitar amps and a bass amp. Immy actually brought his own, a Santa Cruz amp that was like a Princeton Reverb with a 12” speaker, David Lowery ended up using a Fender Twin Reverb that actually had a single 15” speaker making it broadcast all over the place (nobody realized that it was a 15” speaker until after the show). I ended up with a small Vox amp that I just could not get to play cleanly, so I had a fairly distorted sound all evening.

at the Casbah. Note: flowery Strat!

Many known crumbs were here, people I had seen at the Camp-Out or other shows, people I even knew by name! Chris Pedersen was obviously getting used to playing these songs now, and with Victor back on bass the rhythm section was strong and loud. Immergluck on pedal steel (and mandolin when I wasn’t playing it) made our arrangements full of all possible timbres. The show was good, the band felt like we were coming together.

Afterwards, we drove back late at night to the hotel by LAX, as we had to get up to go do a radio recording the next day in Northridge before coming back to Hermosa Beach to play a place called Sainte Rock. We got rerouted in South Bay somewhere where they were working on the 405 and it took forever to get back and get to sleep.

Up the next day, same old Starbucks and Ralph’s for breakfast, then off to Northridge. We had two rental cars here in SoCal, fairly small ones. We drove to KCSN and loaded in and waited for a delivery of rental amps from SIR (Studio Instrument Rentals) LA. I think this radio show was supposed to be some sort of big promotional thing for Los Angeles, and our A&R guy from 429 Records was going to be there. It’s a pretty huge setup for what began as a college radio station (it’s at Cal State Northridge) and the entire performing arts center is named after Mike Curb who ostensibly donated a ton of money to build it. I kept trying to remember what his band was called before he went into politics and became the lieutenant governor…

Radio Show here!

I’m going to assume that we paid for the amp rentals, or the record company did, which meant it comes out of our potential profit in the end anyway, as this was promo. So there goes any money we might have made on this tour, if there had been any! But the station is an NPR affiliate and has a large listening base, and is becoming somewhat more relevant than the whole KCRW scene which has become quite a bit less eclectic year by year as it’s become more and more co-opted by what’s left of the music industry. Our interviewer was Sky Daniels, who, as his bio says, is an “industry veteran”: he worked for Universal for years and then developed all sorts of radio formats. He is an intense and extremely music-knowledgable individual and was very fun to talk to. I finally remembered “Mike Curb Congregation” and asked him if that was right, and we ended up talking about Mike Curb and LA studio history for quite a while as the setup was happening. Our A&R guy came with some CDs for the station, very matter-of-fact, “here’s the new CD, yup”. It had come out the day before, I guess I sort of expected everybody to be jumping up and down! I was pretty excited, I hadn’t really examined our new album.

I honestly don’t know if anybody at our level sells any CDs anymore anyway, so it’s probably lucky for us to have a label at all that can pay for recording (we went over budget, regardless) or manufacturing (it’s got amazing artwork by Michael Wertz!) The relationship with 429 Records is basically all between them and David, as they put out Cracker as well, which they will also be doing this year. Cracker has a double CD (or two separate?) scheduled for later this year. Crazy!

I still feel a slight black cloud of the waning music industry hanging over the whole thing, as excited as I am to have a new Camper Van Beethoven album out. I sincerely hope we can continue in some economically viable way.

Adding to that, my recent album, Shine Out, had come out digitally the same day, through Finetunes, but that would be a little tough to advertise during a Camper Van Beethoven promotional run, when we’re trying to hip the world to the new CVB CD! On my own, outside of Camper, I am on a market level that is even many times lower than Camper. The best I can do is to sell some CDs at the CVB merch booth to completist collectors. I’m not certain that CVB fans would by necessity be fans of my own records, but because of my association with CVB for the past 30+ years, that’s pretty much gonna be the only people who would hear about them, I don’t know if there would ever be a way for the proper audience to find it outside of its association with CVB. (Proper audience…?)

Anyway, to be able to be in Los Angeles and play on the radio, play a few shows, that in itself is lucky, especially for me as it means that I have to fly all the way from Sweden. I’m not sure that as time goes on this will be financially possible, nor even if it is really now, though we needed to play some shows to promote the new album, even if they are small. The album is great! Come on folks, buy it in bulk!

The new Camper Van Beethoven album is called “El Camino Real”. It is the companion piece to last year’s “La Costa Perdida”, in that LCP is mostly set in Northern California and ECR in Southern California, but there are other little dualities in the pair. This new one is much more, well, sinister, and has many more driving rock songs.  In reviews it’s doing well, but I still get the impression that people aren’t getting the depth of it, or the pair, and that that may take multiple listens. Here’s a review, for example.  David has a blog in which he writes about all the songs he’s written, 300 Songs, several of the ones from this album are featured lately. Check it out!

epicenter.

So, anyway, after checking out the epicenter of the Northridge Earthquake of 1994, we drove over the hill from the Valley and back down toward LAX, and on to Hermosa Beach. We loaded some of the rental amps into one of the little rental cars and people in the other, so that we would have amps better suited to us for this evening. I usually like to use a Fender Deluxe Reverb, and now we had two of them. Curtsy would be opening again, and they were welcome to use them also, if they wanted.

The place is called Sainte Rock, it’s a little upscale sort of bar with a semi-gourmet kitchen. By the time we were done setting up and sound checking, I was so low blood sugar that I couldn’t go anywhere else, so I ate there, and it was good. We, as a band, know a lot of people in Los Angeles, and a bunch of our old compatriots were at the show, many people we have worked with over the years, and our current record company people from both 429 Records and Omnivore. It was old home week there at the Sainte Rock. The stage itself was pretty nice, though the room was divided by an area for seated diners, and then the bar sort of went around the corner away in back so people at the long side of the bar couldn’t see the band. It wasn’t packed full, anyway, so I’m sure everybody that wanted to see us got to.

at Sainte Rock in Hermosa Beach. photo by Philip Hughes

We were finally starting to hit stride as a band at this show, our last for this run. Chris Pedersen was locking in with Victor Krummenacher, David Lowery was seamlessly moving lyrically between the old and new material, David Immergluck, Greg Lisher and I winding our ways around the melodies and counter melodies. I think this was the best playing of the batch, in a nice venue with a well-aquainted audience.

After the show, we packed our gear and talked a bit with our friends there, a little bit with Greg Allen from Omnivore (who recently re-released our two albums from Virgin, Our Beloved Revolutionary Sweetheart and Key Lime Pie,) briefly saw other people from 429 Records, stumbled through a short conversation with Dennis Herring, who produced OBRS and KLP, whom I don’t really get along with, and ended up talking for a long time with Marc and Valenta, friends of ours from Berkeley who run Amoeba Records. Amoeba is doing well in Los Angeles, even showing up in articles in GQ Style these days (!), but the original store in Berkeley, which used to be overrun by music loving kids is now passed over by a university population who really doesn’t care what music they hear so long as someone is twerking to it. The San Francisco store is still on its feet, but really the LA store is where it’s at these days, so Marc and Valenta moved down here. It was good to hang out with them, I’ve hardly seen them since we moved away from the Bay Area two years ago. Yes, in fact, exactly two years previous, on June 3rd, we left the United States.

We finally packed everything back into the two little cars and headed back to the Assy-Enda. After sorting everything out, it was determined that Chris had the most time the following day, so he had the job of returning the rental amps to SIR, and returning the crap mandolin to guitar center before coming back to LAX and leaving on a night flight back to Australia. Victor flew early to SF, back to work, I flew later to rent my own car for two days so I could drive up to visit my family in Davis for an evening, Greg flew back to Oakland, and David and Bobby went on to play with Cracker at a festival in Mexico! (Lucky dogs!) I think Bobby deserved some time to cut loose at this point, one of the things he had been dealing with during this entire rehearsal and tour was obtaining visas and official endorsement from the US Chamber of Commerce so that Cracker could go to play in China at the end of June, and that had been proving to be very, very difficult, and had included for him several early morning runs to the Chinese consulate. I hope he got drunk and woke up somewhere in Mexico in the arms of a transvestite.

I flew back up later in the afternoon, drove to Victor’s and stayed there that night. Next day up to Davis, with stops at REI and Target to find a new suitcase (I did end up with the Swiss Gear one,) where my brother and I went out to dinner with my dad and his wife. I sorted through all my mail that arrives at my brother’s house. His 12 year old (the boy twin) was having a sleepover with two friends, but it was basically a gaming party. His 14 year old was now as tall as me and has better sideburns. It was  a nice visit, but short, got up the next day to head back to San Francisco to meet Carlos Forster, whom Bradley Skaught had placed me together with to record a cover of a Scott Miller song (Bradley also specified which song!)

I had actually recorded most of the song already, so Carlos had added many layers of vocal tracks.  We basically just talked and copied tracks over, so I am going to mix it soon now that I’m home… well, whenever I get back into Stockholm where my studio computer is.

That evening Victor and Troy and our old friend Dede went out to dinner, a post-tour dinner, and in honor of Dede’s 50th birthday which had been during the festival, and her moving right then back from Napa to San Francisco, in fact, picked up her new apartment keys that morning. Another old friend had taken over the kitchen at Green’s at Fort Mason, so we made the trek across San Francisco for one of the best vegetarian meals I have ever had, and Dede has been working for a winery in Napa so she talked to the sommelier and we ended up with a great wine as well. A superb dinner, great end of tour, nice conversation filling each other in on the past 20 years and beyond. Back to Victor’s, I had to get up at 5am the next day to get back to SFO.

Another very long day of travel: return my rental car, airport train to the airport, flight from SFO to New York JFK, waiting around a hot and very overcrowded terminal there for 5 hours while plane-loads of people tried to entertain themselves and stay cool, flight to Stockholm, arrived at about 1pm local time, took a taxi home (45 minutes or so, Arlanda is between Stockholm and Uppsala), unpacked and repacked, took a shower, walked out to the subway station, subway to the central train station, train to Örebro, picked up by my father-in-law, drive north for an hour to the cabin, eventually arrived to see wife and daughter at the top of the lupine-lined road waiting. I got out and got the biggest hugs ever. That was the best after nearly 30 hours of travel!

Now here I am. What next?

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Posted in Camper Van Beethoven, Guitar, Music, Touring, Violin
about.me
Jonathan Segel

Jonathan Segel

musician and composer

Jonathan Segel started playing guitar when he was about 7 years old. At about 10 he had a crush on a girl who played violin, so he thought he'd try that too.

Unfortunately he sucked at it.

That did not stop him, however, from later playing the violin in rock bands when everybody else played guitar. Sometime around 1983, while carrying a violin across the quad at Porter College at UC Santa Cruz, he was approached by some kids who had moved their band up from Redlands, CA. This turned out to be Camper Van Beethoven and the Border Patrol.

Well, what we didn't know then is that this association was apparently for life, as Camper Van Beethoven has now made records/CDs for the past ~30 or so years, and is still playing.

Through all the ups and downs of that band, Jonathan has continued to make his own records (../CDs/tapes/whatever... probably a billion of them so far) in a variety of genres ranging from guitar-based rock music to way-avant-garde electronic music and many other places in between..​.

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