Two Minutes Hate

Hateful songs are some of my favorite. "Idiot Wind" by Bob Dylan is one of the meanest, most disrespectful pieces I've ever heard--and it was all inspired by a girl.

The "Two Minutes Hate"--as relating to Orwell's 1984 is a period where every person shouts at a flashing screen of images. The images are the focus of an entire country's hatred. Everything is redirected towards a single entity--and the subject must accept that hatred whether it is legitimately earned or not. In this case--it really wasn't.

I've written two hate songs in the past two days. I don't feel all of the emotions that I put into them--but it sure as fuck helps flush out my system. It also feels weird that the words come so easily.

Euphemisms

I also thought that it would be helpful to comment about my use of euphemisms--mostly names--in my writing.

No. I don't know anyone named "Maria" or "Mary" or "Virginia" or "Johnny"--but I've been using them as euphemisms for specific people in my writing for as long as I can remember.

So, if you're worried that you might be one of these faceless people...

You might be.

The Trap I Set For You Seems to Have Caught My Leg Instead

I need to start playing shows. I've been writing constantly for the past couple months--and some of these songs need to be taken off of my shoulders. They're depressing. They're disturbing. Sometimes I'm scared at what I write.

I wrote this song about a man being hanged for murder--and then realized it was all an allegory about my experiences from the past six months. And while I didn't exactly commit murder, the story still follows very closely all the things I'm ashamed of doing. Here's the chorus:

Let me die in slumber
Send your hope to someone else
I only wish you'd notice
Just how much you have helped
Don't watch me now, Maria
It'll only hurt you more
See me led out quietly
Above another door

I guess I just never knew what a toll the constant jealousy was taking on me. Eventually, I got sick of it and just gave up. This song is called "Another Door," but there are so many others that need to be heard by someone other than myself. A song called "Sounded Just Like Fire" chronicles that period of horrible depression and loneliness--where I had one person who seemed to take a reasonable interest. "Crescendo / Decrescendo"--as most of you know--was what pulled me through the months of November and December. Sometimes I play that song when I'm alone--as loudly as possible when no one else is home.

I recently wrote a song that I've been calling "This'll Take All Night." Very Gaslight Anthem-y, but I add my own story-based spin. It mostly helped me deal with my dependence issues and where they stem from--and how I don't want my children to wind up like me.

My songs are so self-deprecating. It hurts to see those words in my notebook and know that they're true, but part of the process of writing should be realization. A realization that what's been written is meaningful and expressive--and that's how I've been feeling since late October.

Felt My Fingertips Tingle and It Started to Rain

After much deliberation--and many changed ideas--I've decided on my first tattoo. For a while, I was planning on getting something completely universal: either the bass or treble clef, some simple notes, the opening bars of "So What"--but that all changed once I saw this design on my Gaslight Anthem shirt...

Seriously. Just take a look at that beauty. I'll suck up my pussy needle phobia to get THAT THING on my arm. I figure that it'll be my graduation present to myself.

On that note, my mom is now in the process of planning my graduation party. A graduation party that I don't want. I understand where she's coming from, but I can't stand having a party for myself. I don't even tell people when my birthday is anymore--except for this year, but that was because I came into about $12,000. I felt the need to tell people about that. Especially the guys I work with. Haha

I also recently completed my Gaslight Anthem vinyl collection. I don't know how many collectors actually read this blog--but if you're a collector and you're reading this, you already know the feeling that happens right when the exchange of items occurs. I swear, I'm glad I'm not addicted to heroin--because being addicted to vinyl is ten times sweeter. And--presumably--a lot less expensive.

Here's a breakdown of the collection so far. Mind you, Sink or Swim and the Sink or Swim Demos both have a variety of different pressings--each with a different color.


"The '59 Sound" single - 7"
Señor and the Queen - 3rd pressing 7"
The '59 Sound - 2nd pressing [Signed by Brian Fallon] 12"
Sink or Swim - 3rd pressing (Purple Splash) 12" [Pictured above on the turntable]
"Sink or Swim Demos" - 3rd pressing (Green) 7"

And... My prized possession...

Live at Park Avenue - 1st pressing 10" [Signed by EVERYONE]

They said that this was the first copy of this album that they had ever signed. It was a Record Store Day '09 exclusive, and I'd like to send my thanks to Zia Records for actually having this set aside for me when I came in.

Return to Form

I'm typing this post simply as a way to tell myself that I posted something recently. Hopefully this will kick my writer's ass back into gear.

The Gaslight Anthem show was fucking fantastic. I had no worries that it would be anything different. Talked with Brian Fallon after the show for a good fifteen minutes--while everyone else was sweaty and gross in the car--and then got my copy of "Live at Park Avenue" signed.

I'll leave you all with these lyrics and a link to their page. So glad they played this song last night.

The Gaslight Anthem - "Blue Jeans and White T-Shirts"

We are the boys from Little Eden
We are the hardest Saturday nights
Drank from the fountains of the fireworks
Sweat and bone for a better life

We like our choruses sung together
We like our arms in our brothers' arms
Call every girl we ever met Maria
But I only love Virginia's heart

And we sing with our heroes thirty-three rounds per minute
We're never going home until the sun says we're finished
And I'll love you forever if I ever love at all
Wild hearts, blue jeans, & white t-shirts
With wild hearts, blue jeans, & white t-shirts

Some things, babe, they never told you
Some things papa doesn't like
Spend a lifetime just to get over
You always said my mama tried

Still we sing with our heroes thirty-three rounds per minute
We're never going home until the sun says we're finished
And I'll love you forever if I ever love at all
Wild hearts, blue jeans, & white t-shirts
With wild hearts, blue jeans, & white t-shirts

So tonight I'll call you from a fourth-street payphone
But I'll sleep on the beach if I ain't got a ride
Someday I'll buy you that house on Cookman
We could sleep on the beach all night
Sleep on the beach if we ain't got a ride
Sleep on the beach all night
Sleep on the beach all night
Sleep on the beach if we ain't got a ride...