Monday, February 18, 2013


The Wrong Words: There is nothing wrong with them at all.


Credit: Canderson

Who are you?

That is the question I ask myself every morning when I wake up and every night when I'm trying to fall asleep. Also sometimes in the shower.

Who are you wearing?

The skulls of my enemies, and Levi's.

What happened to the right words?

Some say they are lost forever, doomed to wander the vast arid landscape between brain and mouth. Though the claim that they once resided anywhere in the brain to begin with is apocryphal at best.

Favorite band on Trouble in Mind?

All of 'em, Katie.

Weirdest dream you've ever had?

Well this one isn't that weird, it's really more like a textbook example of an anxiety dream. But, it was particularly vivid and I can actually still remember a lot of it so if you want a dream, it'll have to do. I had a dream the other night in which I was supposed to go down to Big Sur to play guitar at one of the big shows they have there. Not with The Wrong Words or any other band I actually play in. It's fading, but I'm pretty sure at first the band that I was supposed to play guitar for was the Red Hot Chili Peppers. What my subconscious could possibly have been trying to tell me with that one, I'm not sure I even want to know. Anyway it's a dream so let's just go with it. I show up to the venue and realize that not only have I never practiced with them, but I have no idea how any of their songs go, or how to play them. (By the way, at no point in the dream do any members of the Red Hot Chili Peppers actually make an appearance. So if you thought this was going to turn into a sex dream, forget it.) What follows is a standard feature of many of my dreams, one that can best be described as "dream-fretting". Just a bit of wandering around the dream-landscape and worrying about dream-stuff. It's not very exciting and this part of the dream isn't too clear in my memory, but at some point the band I'm supposed to be playing with becomes Metallica. (Again, what exactly my subconscious was trying to say I don't know, but I'm mildly offended nonetheless.) The other details were all still the same - I still didn't know why I was supposed to play with them or how to play any of the songs. I was still in Big Sur, and I also didn't know how I was going to get home. Nothing really happens in this part of the dream, so let's just skip ahead to the next part (yes, it was a multi-part dream). Some dream-time passes, I'm still in the same place but there are some other people around now too, and the band I'm supposed to be playing with has changed again. It is now Sonny & The Sunsets. Which is still pretty far off the mark, but this one is actually in the realm of the somewhat vaguely plausible - I have mutual friends with the guy at least. And unlike the previous bands in the dream, he actually makes an appearance in the dream-flesh. (I guess maybe my dream-budget couldn't cover the appearance fees of the other ones. Was Sonny Smith really the best we could do? What, we couldn't afford Dwyer?) Also finally making an appearance - my guitar, as I finally make an attempt to learn a song that I'm going to have to play live in front of people in, I dunno, 20 minutes or so. But it doesn't last long - after a few minutes of trying to show me the chords to a song, Sonny asks me to turn my guitar up. Unfortunately, not only do I have an amp with me, but as I reach for the cable that's plugged into my guitar I see that it's been mysteriously cut in half. (SYMBOLISM?!?!?!?)

Anyway, the dream ends just like stories do in real life - with a tedious anti-climax. Looking back I think the weirdest part of this dream is the possibility that someone might have actually read this whole thing.

Favorite breakfast food?

I'll take an everything bagel with cream cheese, butter, whitefish salad, chopped liver, or the old eggs/cheese/sausage combo.

Best record store in San Francisco?

Oh I dunno, there's plenty that I enjoy. It really depends on what kind of mood you're in, how much time you have, how much money you feel like know. Amoeba is great of course. You only want to go there if you have several hours and many monies to spend. I myself once spent six straight years there! Grooves is a really good smaller used-record store - you can be in and out of there relatively quickly, plus, if you go in on the right days you get to hang out with Kelley Stoltz. Not to be confused with Groove Merchant, which is also pretty good, though it leans more toward expensive collectable stuff on consignment. If that's your thing. There's a new-ish place in my neighborhood called Explorist International, which is still pretty small but well-curated. It is also the home of "Free Jazz Fridays." And of course I have to mention 1234Go in Oakland, which is not only a great store but a great place to see a show (or play one).

The Nerves, the Knack, Cheap Trick, The Raspberries or the Plimsouls?

The Mekons, The Go-Betweens, The Kinks, Gene Clark, Richard Thompson, Nick Lowe, Elvis Costello. Also The Nerves and The Plimsouls.

What is your message for the kids?

Anything that looks like the easy way will eventually turn out to be even harder than the hard way.


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