Holy shit, I'm alive.

I didn't forget about this.  I just let it go for the remainder of the year.  So what happened?

Honestly, I have no idea.  I enjoyed working on this thing.  Maybe it was one of those blog burnout things that happens every now and then.  Anyway, to bring you up to speed as to what's happened since June, I turned another year older in November and just successfully got through another Xmess.

That's about it!  Oh, I got laid some, too.  Go, me.  So anyway, yeah.  I'm starting this thing up again.  There's plenty more to say.  

Podcast is dead.

Yes, I killed the podcast.  No, I don't care.

Trout Mask Replica and Me

Let's get real gone, fellas.

I'm going through a Trout Mask Replica thing lately. It pretty much started when I noticed the rip I had done of my old CD copy of it a few years back had all sorts of crappy snaps in some of the songs. So I wandered over to iTunes and promptly bought the bastard again. Not that I minded since it's an album I can't do without.

I suppose everyone has their story regarding this work, whether or not they're a fan. I already covered my initial history with it right here in this previous post, so I won't go over all that again. I'm just not quite sure why the album has sparked my interest again so feverishly lately.

I was driving around yesterday with Beefheart's Strictly Personal album playing. After a bit, I shuffled the iPod to random stuff, not quite feeling any of it until a cut from Trout Mask Replica showed up. It was the only thing that was going to sound good. So I pulled up the album proper and started listening from "Hair Pie: Bake I" through "Moonlight on Vermont" to "Pachuco Cadaver" and then zipped up to "Neon Meate Dream of a Octafish" and "China Pig." It was as captivating as it was the very first time I heard those tunes.

So what's to say that hasn't been said? Nothing, really. You can listen to the songs and come up with your own conclusion. I remember writing a couple tunes back in my high school days and recording them with my friend Adam, telling him to play his guitar like they did on Trout Mask. I did my best to emulate John French's drumming style. But what we failed to realize was that The Magic Band had been rehearsing those classic tracks for months on end. Adam and I were just doing these one take things.

Just goes to show you what a moon can do.

Still, that's inspiration. I mean, if an album like that can make a person want to try and make music like that. Music, that, by and large, still alienates the public at large. It inspired me and my friends in all sorts of ways, though. I remember when I was a senior in high school our art class teacher, Ms. Caruthers, would often play tapes while we doodled away. Usually she made us listen to dreck like the soundtrack to Dances with Wolves.

I made a copy of Trout Mask Replica for my best friend Tom who also appreciated its oddball appeal. I told him to take it into art class, tell Ms. Caruthers it was the soundtrack to the PBS special The Civil War and see if she'd play it. Sure enough she did.

Tom and I didn't have art class at the same time, so at lunch I excitedly asked how it went down. As I expected, it didn't go down well at all.

"They turned it off pretty fast!" Tom told me.

He said that everyone just looked bewildered and in a last ditch effort to keep the songs playing, Tom exclaimed, "But wait! This is the part where they're rolling the cannons across the field!"

I was satisfied enough, knowing that these small town Tennessee hicks were at least exposed to "Frownland" and whatever else might have gotten played that day. That wouldn't have happened otherwise. Remember, this was around the time when Warrant was on the charts with "Cherry Pie." Captain Beefheart & The Magic Band must have seemed like a complete nightmare to those kids.

We also wound up shooting a couple videos to the Cap's tunes. One was just an extreme closeup of me trying not to crack up as "When Big Joan Sets Up" blared from my stereo in the background. I finally cracked and kept flashing the Trout Mask longbox in front of my face. After that there was another video, albeit for "Woe-Is-A-Me-Bop" from Lick My Decals Off, Baby. In that one, my dad's dog brought my friend Mark a magic coin that embedded itself into his forehead.

Suffice it to say Trout Mask Replica inspired and continues to inspire me in various ways. And really, I think that's the best thing about it. Because it's the sort of album that could inspire only the most creative types of stuff, really. Perhaps in another hundred years the thing will finally be certified Gold.

I Cannot Carve a Carver

"I Cannot Carve a Carver"

I cannot carve a carver
like that butter-tailed jack
Which you always yield
Marked like thatch
In a drain pool stem
Of oxen mice horse manure

Let it roll in custard
And the free treacle
Fallen on a plain
Like a sigh
Of rainbow dust in
A mastodon prison

You don't have to tell me
Sway the wicked way watch mine glow
Stay the over stay and zapped
The strapped amulet hither there
Neither where

May craft amuse you so
May abomination get blown
Fuses pustule of ardent maidens
Scissors sawing the chagrin
Flouted flatulence on burnt burgers
Withered toast
Hither there

copyright 2011 by Jason Thompson

As promised, new podcast episode is alive!

So I got off my lazy ass and produced this skizz for you.  Dig it and head over to Camel Ike's podcast page to get it. Rockin'.

Medicated Skin Flute

"Medicated Skin Flute"

I can't think about
What I was thinkin' 'bout
'Cause medicated skin flute
Got me down

You might have your
Razor day parade
But medicated skin flute
Entertains no clown

Think about the feeling
The grass and the lamp
The sweet ass and sunshine
How she got damp

Posted on a wall
For thems to retreat
Caught on a bush
Regular size feet

Medicated skin flute
Playin' a hap hap
Get up 'n dance to it
Your fingers magically snap

Breathin' on a Brawny
Cleanin' up the sticky pie
Entertain a fashion
Dappled apples in the sky

copyright 2011 by Jason Thompson

Yes, I've been lazy.

Yes, it's the middle of June.  No, I haven't put up a podcast this month.  No, I haven't been writing on here.  I've been terribly lazy.  I've been in the process of getting ready to move, getting ready for my kid to finally get out of school for the summer, and just enjoying my laziness.  It's true.  Sometimes I just don't care.  We all get that way, especially when we have a blog.  That is, when we have a blog that we don't get paid to upkeep.

But we should do it for the love of it all, I know.  But when you're busy all day with your regular job and you get home and night and just want to flake out eating and playing video games, sometimes the inspiration just isn't there.  Plus, I've been spending oodles of my online time over at Yahoo! Answers, which I know I said I'd be incorporating into here from time to time, which I still will.  And I will get another podcast episode up and all that other good stuff.

Look, all I really want right now is some good Belgian beer and a sexy chick to bed.  Is that so wrong?  My grandfather always told me I should find a nice red-headed gal.  I've never done this in my 38 years.  Perhaps I should.  So far, everything else hasn't worked out and the last date I went on, while nice, was rather devoid of anything when it came to intelligence on my date's behalf.  Sorry if you're reading this, honey, but it's true.  You are the definition of a dumb blonde, but you said so yourself.  I shouldn't have to walk through the zoo with you and explain what every frickin' animal is that isn't the goddamn polar bear.  Plus you're older than me, fer chrissakes.  You should know some of these things.

And yeah, it didn't help that you thought Celine Dion was good and that you pronounced "tarot" like you pronounce "parrot."  These things are deal breakers.  It might seem snobbish, but dammit, I know what I want, and someone who does those two things is not on my list.  So it goes.  I mean, you're divorced as well and your husband must have had some reasons to leave you.  Maybe those two weren't amongst them, but still...he left.

OK, this is getting off track.  But it at least brings the rest of you up to speed.  The bottom line is dating in your late 30s is rigoddamndiculous and no one should have to subject themselves to it.  But I try.