Selling out

Everyone who knows me thinks, or I hope to think, has strong principles on the various structures of the world; alas, everyone at one time has to set aside this to stuggle for the legal tender. Aside from your skills, the highest value thing you sell is your time. I'm just suprised how low I settled for. The job I have been doing is for over a year and a half now, and it is time to move on. I just hope my price is higher next time.

Looking for inspiration; rambling

I've not written in 4 months. Why not, Mark, you may ask. The answer isn't probably too comforting. I'm looking for inspiration. At any given time, my muse goes away, and I look to find her. I'm stuggling though, I read books but can only stomach an hour and a half maximum at any given time, struggling to digest the information in. At the moment, I have three books on the go. One for the tube, and two for home. You would think literary tomes about Neil Young, the Moon and Blood Meredian would be fuel for my blog quest for writing salvation. You would be wrong. I haven't picked up Shakey, Jimmy McDonough's opus about Neil Young up for weeks, reminding myself that I need to have a better understanding of the master's vast back catalogue. I've read up to McDonough's accounts of Harvest , a period of Young's music and life I feel well versed in, but not quite having a better understanding of his Ditch peroiod, I put the book down to further develop my knowledge, getting as far as Rust Never Sleeps. Now, for the unanitiated, Rust Never Sleep was Young's 1979 album that channeled his fear of being "dead weight", and of being a dinosaur to the modern trends in music. Most point to the track "Hey Hey, My My" as the mission statement of this message. While to some extent that's, I think the next track "Thrasher" fleshes out his justification's for his career trajectory. Rejecting former band mates he feels are irrelevant, he shapes his own drive to not to rust (pardon the phrase). I'm looking forward to reading what McDonough makes of it, though knowing his views so far i'm sure he has a far greater respect for the second side, backed by Crazy Horse. Moon Dust by Andrew Smith is something I would dream of writing. Part history, part travelogue, part gonzo journalism and part memoir about what the Apollo mission meant to him, I dream of having Smith's command for metaphors and vivid descriptions. I'm 40 pages into it so far, and I feel I know more about the mission than I did before, Smith being like most of us a layperson to the whole event. His inspiration came out of interviewing one of the astronaunt's on the 30 anniversary of Apollo 11's launch, triggering childhood excitment at the new age that was never to be. A nice inspiration to have. Oh what do you know? They do provide some inspiration. Maybe the meta theme of this post is catharic.

My Back Pages

The album cover is a lost artform. These days, they seem to be nothing more than a generic picture photoshopped to within an inch of their life. But even more of a lost artform is the back album cover. With physical releases on the downward spiral, even the front cover can still seem like a small icon. The backalbum cover always for me had more charm than the front, with the pasted on texture in the 60s and usually black and white photos, free of a barcode. The album's move to CD in the 80's led to the re-release of rocks back catalogue, but the back cover suffered. They were ahrinked down to size, the pictures and the text often relegated to the inside of the booklet.

One such instance was the back album cover for Buffalo Springfield Again, released at the end of 1967. The front album cover holds no appeal for me, and is heavily dated. The back however is a beast, with a horizontal list of "friends, enemies and people we don't know from Adam" with the text layout by famed rock photographer Henry Ditz. Looking ath the list is an interesting experience, with most of the names from rock royalty (with the humerous aside of "Ringo"), various blues legends and even Fidel which seemed daring for the time. The five names larger than the others reveal their influences, Fred Neil and Bob Gibson being Stephen Stills' big folk incluences, Ken Koblum a bass player Neil Young knew who "Broken Arrow" is also dedicated too and finally Jack Nitzche the famed orchestrator who produced "Expecting to Fly" who would begin a long association with Young. The credits for the indiviual songs are also illuminating. Back in this era, it was important that bands seemed a unit, even if most tracks had sidemen in the backing. Here, not pretense is needed and it simply lists who plays, revealing that pretty much nowhere did the band play on all tracks. David Crosby was the uncredited write of "Rock and Roll Woman" alongside the credited writer and band member Stephen Stills, but as he was signed with Columbia he simply gets his own "inspiration" credit in the songs credit, a sort of "wink wink" to those who knew". The band shows its humouress side too, listing 11, 386 (sic) guitar parts for "Bluebird" and dedicating "Mr Soul" to the women of Hollywood. All of this charm is lost when relegated to the inside of a CD case, and even more so in the digital age. Sigh.

Still Stills

I still can't help, nearly a year after I wrote my first blog on him how much I think of Stephen Still's music and how much it means to me. Through the good and the hard times, his music pulls me through as I listen to his soulful vocals and pick up on his player. Unfortantly, he is too underrated in music these days, overshadowed by his more prodigious colleague in Buffalo Springfield and CSNY, Neil Young. Their love-hate relationship over the past 50 years has resulted in some excellant music, and heartworming tributes. I've often heard of Stills' less than stellar self esteem, which makes me empathathise through my own trials through life. Young sees Stills like his brother, and has said Crosby and Nash don't "get" him like he does. Young's recent Buffalo Springfield reunion and getting Stills to appear on Americana are his attempts to bring Stills (often) talent to the publics attention, as does this blog. I listen now to his soulful harmony on Young's version of "Oh Lonesome Me" and get shivers across me. How can someone sing that way? He has talked of a new album and I hope it comes to pass. Man Alive!, his last solo work came out in 2005 and it was pretty decent. His voice is unfortantly shot, but solo and without attempting the CSN harmonies it hides the limitations. He has even encouraged me to get a hollow body Gretsch. I can't get his white falcon one as it costs a fortune, especially left handed but I will give the orange glow one a go. Cheers Mr. Stills, and bring out the box set already.

A great feeling

I'm feeling very good at the moment; for the future and the present and it is the first time in a long time I have felt this way. I feel I can do anything. Thank you.

"remember me to one who lives there"

Travelling

I haven't travelled in a while now. The last time I went was to Mexico, which was over a year ago. That seems in the distant past now, so i'm itching to go somwhere new and have an adventure again instead of being stuck here. I've been to Spain, France, Belgium, Germany, the USA and Mexico. What next? Suggestions please.