11 posts tagged “music”

It's well after 5 am.  Plenty of my friends are still awake but they're all guys who seem to think I care that they're sexually frustrated at this crazy hour. 

(4:05:09 AM) midpat: It was a joke dumb dumb
(4:05:17 AM) Nitro Mega Lamb: I get that
(4:05:29 AM) Nitro Mega Lamb: Just not in the mood for it I guess
(4:06:00 AM) midpat: Maybe that's why you can't sleep. Too mad
(4:06:08 AM) Nitro Mega Lamb: I'm not mad
(4:18:59 AM) midpat: Frustrated?
(4:19:21 AM) Nitro Mega Lamb: not just that but yes that's part of it
(4:20:28 AM) midpat: Listen to Enya
(4:20:50 AM) Nitro Mega Lamb: Fuck. That. Noise.
(4:21:24 AM) midpat: It puts me to sleep lol
(4:22:32 AM) midpat: Try Brian Eno
(4:25:29 AM) Nitro Mega Lamb: My problems are deeper than Enya right now, they're down there with Joy Division

And the worst part is I'm so tired and upset that I lack the skills necessary to relax and get some sleep when I need to, but I'd still rather sit up and listen to music than go back in there and lie down by myself. 

God, do I really have to spell it out?

"Just touch me like you know me, and everything will be fine."

This is the sum of all hang-ups this morning.

This reminds me of my birthday.  I woke up feeling like I'd swallowed a rough kilo of wet cement at 5am and made the decision that I was going to fix myself if it took hours.  And it took hours, but I did it. 

It's common knowledge that I come unglued on nights like this when I can't sleep, and I've been known to do/say things that only people who've consumed mass amounts of alcohol would have an excuse for.

I was starting to get down on myself, thinking that I was a slave to my past and I've let the things that happened eat me alive.  And maybe I'm not all the way there yet...but I worked through tonight all on my own without doing anything stupid or crying once. 

Here are my songs for the moment. 

"Sometimes I can't hold my breath long enough to get down to where Mr. Feeny likes to swim."  Cory, Boy Meets World

"I guess I need to know what it would have felt like to be right." 
             --Texas Is The Reason

To the woman who called while I was at the Humane Society the other day wanting to know if she could ditch her cat there, at a facility that uses euthanasia, because it was shedding too much and her baby was learning to crawl:

So, you say your cat's shedding IN THE MIDDLE OF SUMMER, eh?  Weird

Invest in a BRUSH, for starters, you daft, parasitic freak.  Kind of frightening that you're the mother of an infant, yet you can't wrack your brain hard enough to find a way to maintain this animal until you find it a home, a responsibility you took on when you presumably chose to become the owner of a pet.  I think it's reprehensible that someone would rather shove their responsibility off onto someone else than live with a minor inconvenience until a living creature was placed safely in a good home where it belongs.  The Humane Society is full to the max right now, not only is there no room for new animals, but choosing to abandon an animal there when other options are available, even if it is adopted, puts one more cat at risk for euthanasia.  How is it okay to choose convenience over compassion for another creature?  So what if you have to spend time maintaining a cat's coat?  That is something you should've been doing the entire time anyway.  So what if it's a hassle, if you have to make some calls or write some email, vacuum a carpet, use a lint roller-  isn't it worth it if you can find your pet a loving home?  Would it be so terrible to just do the right thing?

Lately, when people come to me feeling crummy about something they've done and they want me to say it's okay, you had to!--sometimes you HAVE to avoid responsibility/throw someone under the bus/act like an asshole--when they're looking for justification and sympathy, I just can't give it to them.  I really don't care.  So good luck with your atonement and all. 

Things I'm grateful for:

Friends who are around
Chuck fixing my broken machine/giving me photoshop/giving me pizza
Travis

Things I'm excited about:

Samiam in Portland/Block Party/Wicked
A dirty, loud, chaotic night with pretty fireworks and trash blowing softly in the breeze
Letting the Right One in

It's okay, I was still impressed

Until recently I felt kinda scared and obsolete, thinking that nobody out there knew who I was, I mean really.  I don't wanna make a scene.  I don't wanna cry anymore. 

Remember Penny and Johnny in Dirty Dancing?  They weren't together, at least they hadn't been since they were kids, but they were best friends and loved each other. 

"Who's responsible for this girl?"

"I am."

The past 24 hours have been bittersweet but I will say this:

I feel loved, so fucking LOVED that I could keep breathing for a million years.  I feel validated, like hey, I exist after all, And I feel lucky.  Even if I feel lonely. 

This playlist I made is gonna heal me. 

"Lonely girls, lonely girls
Lonely girls, lonely girls

Heavy blankets, heavy blankets, heavy blankets
Cover lonely girls

Sweet sad songs, sweet sad songs, sweet sad songs,
Sung by lonely girls

Pretty hairdos, pretty hairdos, pretty hairdos
Worn by lonely girls

Sparkly rhinestones, sparkly rhinestones, sparkly rhinestones
Shine on lonely girls

I oughta know, I oughta know, I oughta know
About lonely girls"

Years ago I watched a documentary about Daniel Johnston with Jessica.  It ranked way up there with some of the best films I've ever seen, it was rad, and not just for a music documentary.  One part I never forgot was a family member talking about his mental illness and strange will for tragedy, how his heart was broken but it was almost as if he basked in it, how the only woman he ever loved left him for somebody else and how that person was an undertaker as a profession.  This person said that D seemed to love that fact somehow, that the man who took his love away from him was an UNDERTAKER.

Devil

Moving on, this is important--  I'm making something, well, writing something rather.  And I need some input on a certain subject. 

What happens when/after we die? 

Please answer this however you see fit, specific ideas and beliefs are preferred over vague notions, please interpret this until you can't recognize it anymore, I want to know the answer to this question. 

Godspeed, guys.  Let's try and make it through one more day together.

I'm going to the Far show tomorrow.  Walking out of these shows I've always felt humbled and renewed.  I can make the show last forever, it will get me through the summer. 

When I think of the day I met him at the merch table and I showed him the letter he'd mailed to me and how much of an idiot I was and how I scuttled off like d-bag and how he seemed surprised and said goodbye and have a nice life, I cringe and I am happy at the same time.  When I think about seeing him in that tiny room with a handful of other people at PSU and how Wes dared me to speak to him afterward but I was too afraid I smile.  When I think of Wes SMILING when we saw him at what used to be Graceland I can hardly believe it because, Wes smiling at something I like? 

The thing is, you can't go to one of his shows and not smile. 

I just really need this. 

Feeling grateful.

I'm re-posting this because it seemed too important to disregard.  Another thing-  The guitarist from Cobra Clutch is dead.  He died in his sleep.  He was 24.  Wonder what that's all about.  I hope it's not what everyone assumes.  I was in this daze all day, thinking about how I can't even believe that I exist.  One day I won't, and maybe someone will miss me so much that when they remember stories of me breathing, talking, laughing, sleeping, working, they'll feel awe that once I walked erect and sucked oxygen.  I'm a miracle.  I shouldn't be here.  I'm so afraid of death and dying that most days I feel like I won the lottery, just the fact that I'm breathing.  How could anyone waste this?  Either way. 

Read the story here, and Jonah's blog after that.

http://www.noisecreep.com/2009/06/01/cobra-clutch-guitarist-24-dies-in-sleep/?icid=main|aim|dl2|link5|http%3A%2F%2Fwww.noisecreep.com%2F2009%2F06%2F01%2Fcobra-clutch-guitarist-24-dies-in-sleep%2F

"Hi.

It's a strange relationship that we have through this music. We know each other, but we don't. We are part of each other's lives without ever meeting for more than moments, mostly. This is beautiful and sad and lots of things. For any number of reasons that a therapist could probably explain better than me, I've always instinctively searched for the most personal ways to do this rock thing. It's been incredibly rewarding in ways I never could have predicted, and it's painful in many ways that are just as unexpected.

As I was preparing this month's hello, I learned that a guy called Ryan Pink had died. Pink and I have been in touch through the music for years and years. He liked some of my stuff, didn't like other stuff, it never mattered, it goes way beyond that. He was creative, smart, opinionated, troubled, sweet, all the adjectives that come up short when it really counts. He left behind a young child, lots of art, and friends and family that will miss him dearly. I will miss him, too.

We'd been writing back and forth over the past months, me mostly gruffly encouraging him to make sure, no matter what, to grow up and showed up for his kid. We said a nice hello in New Mexico when I was there for some random lunchtime show a few weeks back. He's gone now. Whatever could have been won't be. Drugs. He was getting clean, probably just wanted one more dance with the past. Who knows. I've been there, in so many ways. Anyway, it's a strange and empty feeling that his rants won't be there on the board, that I won't get random late-night messages from him about who-knows-what, asking for help or playfully cussing me out.

Some of the other folks that knew him in any number of ways are gathering his writing and music. I'll keep everyone posted as best I can. There may also be an effort to start some sort of fund for his son, who I've never met, and may never.

This sad story of a young dad dying is all too common. It's easy to go numb, which is maybe why I've always clung to the little moments, to try to stay un-numb. Numb sure looks good sometimes.

So, in this strange, distant, somehow intimate way, goodbye, Pink. Dylan is still and always better than Waits, but I'll sing 'Heart Of Saturday Night' for you sometime. You are missed. I am crying.

It obviously feels a bit incongruous to mix all that with talking about upcoming shows and all, but that's this weird world we're in. I guess I really just don't feel up to talking about it too much right now, but I sincerely hope to see you soon. I will always be happy to keep in touch and grateful that you help me make a living doing this strange stuff. I send love to you and yours.

Check the links for all the info, there are good things happening, things I'm excited about and want to share with you. Maybe the only positive thing about sudden tragedy is that it drives home the platitude about living in the moment much better than all the cheesy cards. So let's.

Love,
Jonah"
http://jonahmatranga.com - Home
http://twitter.com/jonahmatranga - Fun with 140 characters
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Jonah-Matranga/9570482995 - I hate those URLs
http://myspace.com/jonahmatranga - The shark has been jumped, but still
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