I am going to market my CD on ebay with ad copy directed to electric football fans (as well as offer it for exchange on nervousness.org and offer it gratis to LJ folks), but Scott's CD, which is the superior product, deserves a wider airing than my own eccentricity. I may try to get the local alternative paper to review it, and try to get it into the best local indie record shop. I don't think that S X SW is in our future soon, though. But it is exciting that Gurdonark Records 001 and 002 are nearing release. Now if I can get the jewel case inserts done cheaply and quickly.
Maybe my next goal is to be a folk singer in a kazoo driven avant-folk band--one part Varese, one part Partch, two parts "Adventures in a Yorkshire Landscape", and a liberal, variable dollop of Suzanne Vega chaneling Lloyd Cole and the Commotions. I can't even think of a good album title, though--although "Prairie Conjunto Paramecium Blues" does come to mind. Did I mention that I don't really like much electric "blues"? I read somebody in a magazine hipper than I am extolling some faux new blue-eyed bluesman as an alternative to Foghat. Personally, give me Foghat, because when I am in the mood, and the rhythm is right, we can, as the Foghat song says, rock all night. But then, in my personal covers album, there would be versions of both Head East's "Never Been any Reason" and of the Ozark Mountain Daredevils' "Jackie Blue", side by side with "This Town Ain't Big Enough for the Both of Us", "Life in the Air Age" and any number of dBs songs.
I wish Christine Lavin would return to our area. It seems as though she used to come every eight weeks or so, but she must have other places to tour. I remember when I was a kid, and Joe Walsh and the James Gang seemed to play Little Rock every weekend. On off weekends, ZZ Top played. I still think longingly of the time that just-hit-our-shores Kraftwerk opened for a Roger-Waters-laden Pink Floyd. I wish I had seen that show. But I've seen the Residents' Thirteenth Anniversary Show, and I got to see REM's Reckoning tour, and who could ask for more?
I don't think I'm cut out for the rock star business. I read an interview with Alanis Morisette on my airline flight last night (it was in some odd magazine called "Razor", which is one of those men's magazines that's kinda like Redbook, except it reviews beer instead of mascara, and the models seem to model jeans on motorcycles and muscle cars rather than in evening wear). She expressed her feeling that it's very hard to her to meet men when she is so artistically accomplished, rich and the like, and although she probably had a point, it was all rather like a Watchmen comic book. Idolizing musicians, while doctors who cure diseases get little notice--it's an odd world.
I read that Neil Young intentionally moved away from recording commercial material after all the hassles of fame that After the Goldrush brought him. I'm glad my talent base will spare me the indignity of celebrity and the problems of wealth.
The local paper reviewed a Tori Amos concert. The review reported that when Ms. Amos' fans shouted out requests, she stopped, looked them over, and said "what do you think I am, a jukebox?". Good for Tori. I saw Donovan some years ago. When his crowd shouted out requests, he simply smiled and said "it's a lovely noise, but I have no idea what you're saying". But I still wish he had played "Wear Your Love like Heaven".
I must work this weekend, and I wish to also exercise and work on my chess club project. I feel pretty energetic, and the weather is gorgeous. I worry that I am too effusive, sometimes, but worry is something I do well, so I shan't worry about it too much.