ketzer music

Decompression

2012-01-31T11:18:00.000-08:00

I posted the beginning of this, or a version of the beginning of this, yesterday as a #MicroPoetry, but I did not like how the constraints of 140 altered the meaning. I felt it had more to say. So here you go, enjoy!

Decompression

Decompressed
Beneath slate blue sky anointed with jet trails
Concrete river littered with restless red lights

Freedom seekers
Intercepted broken white lines looking for quick escape
Serenity moment lost to timeframe dictation

Old souls
Took deep winter breaths ignored endless rush
Exhaled slowly directing warm air across cracked lips

Aged eyes
Squinted while trying to decipher braided bends
Pulled back slowing rapid river pace

Innocents
Smiled gleefully at extended arms fighting invisible force
Made silly faces reminding onlookers to decompress

Portaits from Lemonheads

2012-01-29T06:51:00.000-08:00

By Wednesday, February 1st I will have gone to six shows since Wednesday, January 25th. One of them is my own, but it still counts; right? Everyone knows I see a lot of concerts. It is what I do, but this is a bit much, even for me.

I kicked this string off with Samantha Crain at Off Broadway. I saw Samantha for the first time three years ago, and I have made it a point to see her every time she comes through town. She puts on a great show and is a brilliant songwriter. Friday I headed out to Plush, which is a really cool new venue in town, to check out My Molly. You all know how much I love this band, so I will just stop there. After seeing their set I bounced over to the Firebird to check out Gubenthal. I had a pretty chaotic drive home in the pouring snow-rain-muck that evening, but I made it safely and Saaby only took on one pot hole she should not have.

Last night...last night was the Lemonheads at Old Rock House. If you are a fan of people watching, I HIGHLY recommend checking out a band that is 20 years past their prime. Shows like that bring out the most amazing cross section of fans. You get the diehards that never grew out of the era, the superfans that went to tons of shows back in the day but have since allowed life to consume them, the fans that never got a chance to see them in their hay day but didn't want to miss this opportunity (that is the group I fall in), and even a good selection of kids that weren't even born when the band was big but they heard the legend. I went to the show with a fellow writer. It is always a dangerous situation to be with a fellow writer when people watching is involved, inevitably it becomes less about the show and more about painting the moment. Here are a couple portraits I jotted down. They are kind of #MicroPoetry, but they were too big for Twitter, so I thought I'd just go to the blog with them.

Portraits from Lemonheads

He
With intent eyes
Stares down flat screen flicker
As if he witnessed Jesus
Too awkward to join the masses worshipping at his feet
Too timid to look God in the face

Mom bob
Bops inverse to driving rhythm
Tonight
She revisits youth
Dreams deferred
Tonight
She is 18
Free
Life’s trappings years away from reality
Tonight
She is Mrs. Robinson

This evening, Sunday, January 29th, it is my mid-day show at Broadway Oyster Bar. Definitely one of the coolest venues in the city, and I am covering a full 3 hours (there will be a set break, of course) which is always a fun challenge for me.

I'll end this string of shows on Tuesday, January 31st at the Peabody Opera House watching Ryan Adams and Jason Isbell. Gonna go out on top!

Hope you have been seeing some great music or dance or art...Let me know in the comments below what you have been up to lately. I'd love to know...Eric

Purity's End...

2012-01-15T07:23:00.000-08:00

I have become lazy. Seems as though my only poetic thoughts happen in under 140 characters, like I have given in to the ADD that society has forced upon us through 30 second commercials that have us clambering for $5 food we know will kill us one day. Still we hop in cars to drive the same block we would have walked 25 years ago. Make no mistake, growing old sucks, and while I have done my best to embrace the change and continue to chase my youth, I know it is slowly dying too.

There has been so much going on in my world lately that I felt I needed to reconnect with youth, so I started this piece a month or so ago, and I forced it finished today. It is pretty typical Eric poetry, rule driven, fissure surfing. Ultimately I am playing with numbers and words. Seven is my favorite number, so there are seven stanzas. My other favorites make up seven, three and four. I begin with three stanzas of three line with three words in each, and then transition to four stanzas of 4 lines with 4 words each. At the end, I hope I have something that means something. You can be the judge of that.

Purity’s End

Meet midnight nightly
Surrounded by strangers
Wearing intoxicated smiles

Weathered eyes, tired
Silver and dirt
Replacing youthful sunshine

Boy buried beneath
Callused voice responses
Signifying purity’s end

Paradise lost long before
Drawing purple cloud skies
Exchanged for green grass
Brown tree trunk reality

Thirsty pupils pointed left
Trying desperately to recall
Agendaless days of summer
Play life’s ultimate apex

Fearless moments of flight
Falling freely from roofs
Too tall for survival
Tennis shoed feet escape

Glint of excitement returns
Lips curl upward, slightly
Remembering first kiss power
Restoration of innocence lost

#MicroPoetry Recap - The last of 2011 (Nov-Dec)

2012-01-01T09:06:00.000-08:00

Ah January 1...the previous year sits in the review while we move towards hope and actualized potential.

For me, it also means it is time to consolidate all of my Micro Poetry posts from the last 2 months. As a reminder I am a writer, and sometimes I just want to play with words, to create fantasy...so just enjoy the images, don't try to figure out if these moments actually happened. You will never know :-)

I lay
In white noise silence
Staring into a circulating ceiling
Creating conversations with the dead

I watched your lips
Their fullness
Make marvelous shapes during conversation
I silenced them
With my lips

Tender eyes witnessed
Great grey bow cut purple ocean
Forming iridescent angel wings
Beauty through fog of conflict

The dark days are upon us
Light
Wasted on a world forbidden to play
Evenings
Spent in deep solitude
Hibernation

I heard you howl beneath shadowed moon until morning light broke
You thrashed about raising skin with excitation and fear

My bed felt empty
Legs mourning the absence of the tangle
Hands missing the softness of your sea salt skin

I cannot focus
My mind tirelessly weaving a chronological tapestry
Taking me from first breath to you

Pale skin glows beneath purple hue
Clean line from hip to chest interrupted by hand
Body wilts from temperature of touch

I witnessed
Grapefruit sun rising between brown earth and quilted sky
I paused
To take pictures with my mind

I woke-up in dream
Sensation of your touch
So real
My hand searched mattress and covers
Looking for your body

Days between when I kissed your lips
And when I clutch this pillow trying to recall your scent
Have grown too many

Profound white-noise of pre-dawn holiday
The world
Still and silent
Except for the incessant hum of the machine

My fingers
Trace your curves
Effortlessly moving between attractions
Like a skater planning a competition run

Scent of sex
Still lingers on sheets and pillows

I
Lay in thickened thought
Longing to feel your touch
Again

Snapped the comforter
Watching it fall into place
Forcing the release of hidden air
Caught your scent
Inhaled a smile

I
In silent reflection
You
In vocal rejection
Dance with personal demons
Lean on each other to stand

Even in the darkest of mornings
My mind
Rich with thoughts of you
Provides light

You
Tore me from sheets
Where she
Still naked and wanting
Lay
My resentment has never been so strong

You entered through a window
Painted shut
Seal unbroken for years
But here you are
The breeze feels magnificent

I watched you falling
Floating through dark pre-dawn sky
Dissolved before I felt your presence

Buried beneath blankets
Head moving between pillow and breasts
As we danced in short-breath silence

Sleep
Once peaceful
Replaced by nightmares
No words
Just footsteps and clawing
My mind
Uncontrollable

Sandwiched between semi's
Cold rain and mist wiped from windshield
While dividing lines disappear into street shimmer

And I lie here
Alone
Naked and Shivering
Longing for warmth
For Summer's sunshine kiss
For your touch

And I
Having taken my last conscious breath
Met you with closed eyes
Where we lay beneath lilac and walked in clouds

I have fallen from favor
Purity Wings
Once outstretched
Now bound to back
White feathers gray
Tarnished from soot

Children
Sleep restless
Dreaming of elves and Jesus
While parents
Drink wine and tape folds
Trying to bring the joy they once knew

I remember when I lost my poet
Hiding in deep confusion's dark forest
Shouting words into silence
I refused to listen

Lungs
Filled with crisp 4 am air
Push body forward
Brain
Filled with sullenly etched images
Lives in rewind

I awoke to the image me and you
Dancing
Palm to palm
Chest to chest
Eye to eye
We moved with absolution

The world waits
For corks to pop and balls to drop
Ten seconds of unbridled hope
Newness greeted with a kiss

Top 10 CDs of 2011

2011-11-27T09:51:00.000-08:00

2012 is finally upon us. Finally may not be the correct word. For me 2011 was a flash of light, but I am thrilled to have a good selection of music to help me remember the year. Now, I have the difficult task of picking my Top Ten Albums of 2011.

Before I get into it, a few caveats:

Like last year, I am only ranking albums that I actually purchased. As you get into this list, you may see some names that you do not recognize. It is important to remember that I go to A LOT of concerts, as a result I have the opportunity to see some bands that are just starting out, doing regional touring, playing Thursday sets to 25 people, and struggling to get to the next destination. If the band is good, I always buy the CD. Also, as much as I want to be completely objective, I know I am not. Where I struggle the most is when an artist has multiple CDs. It seems somewhat impossible for me to judge the recent one without reflecting on the older CDs. In some cases that hurt an artist’s place in the Top Ten, in some cases it prevented them from even making the Top Ten, but in the case of my top pick, it helped them secure the Best Album of 2011.

To be honest this list was somewhat of a surprise to me and seemed to be ever changing as the year progressed. Unlike last year, when I got into December and started trying to remember all the CDs I bought, this year I kept a spreadsheet that I added CDs to as I purchased them, and after a week in the car, I would loosely assign a rank. What surprised me is how some CDs that I thought were going to be top contenders in January or February ended up not even making the list. A few things that were significant factors were how much play time an album got, what I would have done differently if I had recorded the CD, standout songs, vocals, lyrics, did I get to see them live, and how did they do. I understand the last should absolutely not be a factor when ranking Albums, but damn it if you cannot do it live, then your CD means less to me. Also, I did not rank EPs. EPs tend to piss me off because they leave me feeling unfulfilled. That being said, if you are going to buy one from 2011, it should be Far From the Tree by Peach. It was refreshingly raw and powerful. Lastly, I am confident that had I been able to see the Pistol Annies live, Hell on Heels would have made this list.

#10 Old Soul – Stevie & the Hi-StaXX

Of all the CDs on this list, I feel I was the most unfair to Old Soul by Stevie & the Hi-StaXX. Had it been from any other artist it could have been a top 5 contender. The lyrics are intelligent and powerful. Stevie’s voice is clear, controlled, and emotive, and while definitely paying homage to the soul of old, musically, the CD sounds like a modern interpretation, as opposed to a copy cat. So why did it end up at #10? My favorite CD of all time is Armaghetto which is from Stevie Harris’ first band, Conglomerate. I know I shouldn’t be comparing his first band to his current project, but I cannot help it. Conglomerate was Stevie. This CD is Stevie. I cannot separate the two. Where “Old Soul” falls short for me is Stevie’s reliance on falsetto. I know where the influences are coming from, and why he made the stylist change, but that doesn’t mean I have to embrace it. The reality is Steve Harris has the biggest voice I have ever heard, and I feel shortchanged when he takes a line to falsetto as opposed to powering it up there. I know this makes it seem like I am placing him in a box, that I am not respecting his artistic freedom, but Armaghetto had such a profound effect on me. It was the first CD that made me realize there was amazing music outside of the confines of the shit radio had been spoon feeding me, and that is hard to escape. “Where” is the closest Stevie comes to the in-your-face Heavy Soul that changed my life.

#9 When You Grow Up – Priscilla Ahn

When looking at this list Priscilla Ahn must seem the most out of place. Everything else appears to be so dark, and even in her darkest moments, her beautiful round tone and playful instrumentation ends up making the song seem light and hopeful, and this album is definitely more sunshine and roses than her debut release, A Good Day. Although there is more love than longing on When You Grow Up, the CD is well produced, the lyrics are thoughtful and sincere, and Priscilla’s voice is the perfection of purity. What helped Priscilla fight her way into the top ten was an absolutely incredible performance during a disgustingly under-attended show at the Old Rock House and possibly my second favorite song of the year, “I Don’t Have Time to be In Love.” As someone that spends way too much time at work, has a really robust social life, and is still chasing the dream of music, I definitely relate to this song. It is so easy to deny love because we are too busy for it, but when it is real, we will make the time.

#8 Barton Hollow – The Civil Wars

There is no question that I love soulful music, the more I want to cry when focusing on your words, the tone of your voice, the pain in your chord structure, the more I love your song. It is also no secret that I am a sucker for harmonies. As a choir kid, it is something I will never escape. When I hear them my ears perk-up like a cat stalking the scratching sounds of a mouse from 2 rooms away. Barton Hollow offers both in a stripped down recording that has become the friend I turn to when I am wallowing in a dark funk. That being said, I feel like I need to apologize to the John Paul White and Joy Williams for this placement. Had I made this list when the CD first came out, it probably would have been in the Top 5, but I overplayed it. That, coupled with my complete obsession with their 2009 release, Live at Eddie’s Attic, caused this CD to lose some position in my Top 10 list. Barton Hollow does feature my favorite song of 2011, “Poison and Wine.” What I loved about this recording is they didn’t over produce it. Studio albums are always going to have more layers than a live album, but they stayed pretty true to the live version on this recording, and I respect that, that they understand how powerful the song is, that they realize that adding to can often detract. I’d also like to say that the Civil Wars were probably my second favorite show of the year, and I will be seeing them again in January.

#7 Strange Negotiations – David Bazan

As a longtime fan of Pedro the Lion I was elated that David Bazan put out a new CD. Of my top ten, Strange Negotiations is, instrumentally, the most exciting to my ears. That probably just confused some of you, as it is possibly the least complex, but I love the tension that sparseness manifests. I love the tones David and company create throughout the recording, the thick fuzzed bass, the droning guitars with natural tube overdrive, the well placed atmospherics, and, in general, I am more drawn to down-tempo tunes than up-tempo rockers. This CD is full of thinkers. You put it in on a nice long drive and lose yourself in the stories. Lyrically, it is raw, honest, reflective, and personal. He opens his mind to us, allows us to witness his creation, feel his pains, and attempt to understand his existential dilemma. If there was a fault to this CD it might be that it is so personal, as a result some may struggle to internalize the connection to it. As for a standout track, I am going to go with “Wolves at the Door.” They are all really strong, but this is just such a great introduction to the CD. You instantly know that Bazan is back and going to treat you to an amazing recording.

#6 Wilderness – The Features

I had the pleasure of opening for the Features this year at Cicero’s, and it was one of the highlights of my musical career. They are amazing, and they proved it on 2011’s Wilderness. Some Kind of Salvation was the kind of disc that you wear out which made me kind of worried about Wilderness. How could it be that good? It is that good by being that different. While Matt Pelham’s vocals are still a focal point for me, this CD is rougher around the edges. It is like that seedy little hole in the wall that you cannot help but love. It forces you to move rather than just listen. It takes music from being purely auditory and cerebral and makes you have a physical relationship with it. I am actually listening to the CD right now and struggling to find something critical to say. The only thing I came up with was the keys. At times their voicing is a little too churchy or 80’s for me. I think I would have preferred a more dirty Rhodes or thick B-3 sound. Standout track, “Big Mama Gonna Whip Us Good.” How do you not love a song with a title like that?

#5 Death and Other Forms of Relaxation – Union Tree Review

Of the Top 10 this may be the hardest for me to write because of my connection to them. After all we shared a band member for two years which ultimately broke-up my band. I have seen UTR so many times that I really wasn’t sure what to expect from this CD. They have a history of becoming too liberal with their consumption before a gig which can lead to clusterfuck of sorts, but when they are on, they are incredible. So which Union Tree Review was going to show up on the disc…the disc that they self-produced and recorded in an apartment? The incredible one. It is important to note that had Tawaine Noah (lead singer and songwriter) dropped a solo disc with just him and the guitar, it probably would have made the Top 10. He is an old soul with a modern pen. His lyrics are personal yet accessible, heartfelt and hopeful. That being said, the more I listened to this CD the more my ears were drawn to Jordan’s guitar and Matt’s well placed drumming. I am also obsessed with Patrick’s harmonies. That being said this CD is not free from fault, none are really, and this is more a matter of taste then error, but I feel like the viola, trumpet, and two guitars end up crowding the middle. Rather than having tonal and pitch differentiation they tend to sit in the same register which muddies the builds. I am torn between three songs as my top pick, “Interstate” and “Parties” both mesmerize me, but for the opening line “Your coffee is bitter like I, at least it’s got an excuse. Like you it’s cold and taste like scotch,” my pick goes to “Facing Fools.”

#4 Running from a Gamble – Company of the Thieves

Where do I begin with Company of Thieves? I am about to be accused of blaspheme, just remember when I explained that this blog is about my opinion and though I try to be objective, I cannot always be. To me the pairing of Walloch and Schatz is up there with Page and Plant or DeLeo and Weiland. Yes. I just said that. Marc Walloch is an amazing guitarist. He understands the roots of the instrument, but rather than show up with a slew of vintage gear in an attempt to recreate what once was, tonally he pushes the boundaries of what the guitar can be without sacrificing its guitarness. If you do not know that name, it is probably because Genevieve Schatz has such a powerful presence that she kind of becomes the band. Her voice is unmatched, soaring and soulful. I have seen them four times in the last 18 months, and have always left feeling inspired. Let’s talk Running from a Gamble. We are getting into the territory where the current album is not only equal to previous releases, it surpasses them. I absolutely love Ordinary Riches, but I do not think it did justice to the songwriting duo that is Walloch and Schatz. It was kind of the Genevieve show, which is a great show; however, on Running from a Gamble Marc’s guitar grabs you by the jaw, spins your ear towards his amp, and demands that you listen to him. If you do, you will be glad you did. Similarly, I think the band as a whole showed themselves as a powerful force of rock, soul, and groove. Eitan Bernstein’s keys are thick and tasteful, and the rhythm section of drummer Chris Faller and bassist Marcin Sulewski, is one of the best you will find in any band, tight, prominent but not overpowering. This was the first CD where I knew, immediately, what my favorite track was. Sonically “Gorgeous/Grotesque” strums every chord of this rockers heart. Its dynamic shifts give it breath and energy, and the builds make we want to kick shit over, turn my amp to 11, light it on fire, and watch it burn while I play my guitar with a ferocity that would frighten children.

#3 Ashes and Fire – Ryan Adams

Ryan Adams is back. I should probably just stop there. I mean how do I write about one of my biggest influences? If you are a fan of Ryan Adams, you probably know he is amazingly prolific and has never confined himself to a particular genre. If you are a fan, you also probably have a favorite period of Ryan Adams, whether it was with Whiskeytown, his first 3 solo CDs, the meanderings through rock and indie rock with Rock-N-Roll and Love is Hell, or his work with the Cardinals. Well, for me, his first 3 CDs are untouchable, and Ashes and Fire, takes a circular move back to the beginning. The lyrics are sensitive and sincere. They paint breathtaking images and impel you to feel, if only for the 3 minutes that they wash over you. The instrumentation is sparse but layered with enough variance to keep the ears excited during a first to last listen. His voice is tender and pure. It is the kind of CD that when you put it on you immediately want to pop a cork, light a candle, and hold someone you love. It was really hard for me to pick a favorite song, so I’ll claim the bookends. “Dirty Rain” and “I Love You But I Don’t Know What To Say.” Both will melt you.

#2 Beekeepers – My Molly

Unless you have never read any of my Blogs, my Twitter, or my Facebook, you should have seen this coming. I have been gushing about My Molly for three years now, and when they released Beekeepers, I dropped a review. Rather than rehashing the blog, I’ll just let you read it, remind you that I love this CD and tell you to do yourself a favor and purchase it. By total plays, production, vocals, lyrics, and ability to do it live, this CD definitely deserved placement in the Top Ten, and the back to back heart melting combination of “Fission and Fusion” and “Tie Me to the Mast (a Sirens Song)” helped secure it as the 2^nd best CD of 2011.

#1 Little Hell – City and Colour

Where to start with this album…where to start? First I should say I love everything Dallas Green has done under the guise of City and Colour, and while having multiple albums may have negatively impacted others, it helped this CD. In truth, if I were completely objective, this CD would have still been my #1 regardless of past work, but, for me, City and Colour keeps getting better. The rich instrumentation and layers on this CD create the tension and release that I love in music. The well placed pedal steel on various tracks makes my ears happy, Dallas has the most amazing voice since Jeff Buckley, and more importantly, he proves it during his live performances. City and Colours’ show at the Pageant this year, was definitely my #1 concert going experience of 2011. Yeah. I said that. I meant that, and I stand by that. There are so many breathtaking songs on this CD, it is next to impossible to pick a favorite, but I am going to go with “Sorrowing Man.” The lyrics are powerful and speak to me. I love the dirty resonance and controlled drive of the rhythm section, not over powering or fighting for dominance but definitely driving the song. Please do yourself a favor and buy this CD. You will be glad you did. Your lover will be glad you did. Your neighbors will be glad you did. Your co-workers will thank you.

And there we have MY Top Ten of 2011. I am sure for many of you there are CDs that you feel deserved a spot on this list, and I would love to hear about them, so please feel free to comment with your Top Ten of 2011.

#MicroPoetry Recap: September and October

2011-11-02T03:41:00.000-07:00

We have made it to November, and as I look back on some of the tiny poetry I have posted for the world to read or ignore, I am reminded of the kind of writer I am, how I live in series, how my themes are cyclical, how I hide reality behind poetic device, how I dream of love and want to feel wanted. In the end, I am happy with the writer I am. I couldn't be any other way.

For those that follow these posts on my Twitter or Facebook, you may notice some differences between the original posts and what is shown below. I always do a little last minute editing before sending the blog.

Hope everyone enjoys. I'd love to read some feedback on the words, the themes, the intent...whatever you feel as a result of reading the fissures of my mind.

I stood there
Staring up sincerely
Wanting to play Romeo
Juliet never came

Woke up in nightmare
Empty room
Foxes agitating elephants
Decibels attempting to break psyche
I power down

I didn't think of you
Until exhaustion took control
And sparks illuminated grey caverns
Where your image was put to rest

Followed the ghost through hallowed passages cutting the city's core
Headlights on red lights that disappeared in fog

Drove open interstate
Baptized by September's crisp kiss and soulful sounds
Reborn beneath midnight moon

Light's fragmented finger
Races claps of thunder across a splintered sky
As he navigates curves from nipple to button

At apex of sweaty exhaustion
I heard it
Everyday I'm shufflin'
And I sounded my barbaric yelp
FUCK
THIS
SONG

If I was a painter
I would interpret this sky
All haze grey
With descending lemon sun displaying dominance

I danced in Summer End’s grey mist morning
Floating through fog like Monet's lilies
Felt air wrap around me like your arms once did

The salty-sweet nectar thinned by saliva
The shallow breath tremble felt beneath palm
The release in your eyes

Heard unexpected voice in sleep-eyed morning
Semi-conscious
Heart pounding
Active cognition offers explanation

She sat silent
Staring into black morning
Hidden strangers
Watch her sip coffee
For the last time

I played her body like a virtuoso
Caressing dissonant chords
Creating tension and release
The symphony of her breath

Her fingers rolled the worn ivory like a restless wave
Manipulated the moment with introduction of ebony's minor fall

Chased crescent moon
Weaving red river rapids
World a blur of sound and wind
My head
Clear
My heart
Alive

Lips lost in shadows
Nape of neck
Beneath pale yellow glow of Gibbous Moon
Exposed
Wanting
Tongue sears flesh

And I
Cocooned by pillows and high thread count
Could sleep for days with only your movie playing in my mind

Your eyes
Speak with laughter and levity
My eyes
Listen with earnest and envy

Tangled fingers
Release butterflies
Awkwardness of slow-motion collision
Flesh finding flesh for first time

I woke up so I could force myself to dream of you
Your smile
The tone of your voice in this created conversation

Your fingers that run my hair then trickle down my face
Remind me of what it feels like to be connected
To be happy

Your voice
Reaching rafters
Spirals softly downward
Engulfs me
Wraps me in emotions I thought long forgotten

Your belly
Round with baby
Removes all flaws

Heard whisper turn to roar
Saw increased intensity with each illuminated demand
Felt foundation shake at climax

You held hostage my dreams
Captivated the current
Forced the future
Painted pictures so vivid
My heart heard

I still remember how she looked in her summer dress
Bare back and shoulders
Exposing the art work the world rarely sees

I imagine your touch
The placement of your head on my chest
The sensation of holding you tighter as you succumb

I saw your slow spiral downward
Once hanging from limb smiling at the sun
Now floating on silent wind

Dance floor
Illuminated by silver hue of midnight moon
Our bodies
Perfectly paired puzzle pieces moving as one

Your foreign touch feels familiar
Shivers me with anticipation
Produces shallow breath
We move to midnight music

His mind plays tricks
Descending to darkness when the world is absent sun
Imagination controls night thoughts

I live in shadows of waking thought
Riding fissures from limbic system to frontal lobe
Holding close hope and aspirations

Aroused by April's brisk wind
He stands at attention
Receiving final orders
Before permission to penetrate the fortress is granted

I lay beneath clouds so thick
My cold soul could no longer feel sunshine
Like when your smile went flat
Your eyes empty

Fingers on hot flesh
Silent shallow breath
Lovers speak through their bodies

She slept
Head on my chest
I felt her dream
Deep breaths
Eyes fluttering
She escaped nightmare
By my embrace

Ghouls and goblins
Ring doorbells with sugar-high fingers
While werewolves stalk kittens
Hoping for a late night snack

I Love You when You Sleep

2011-10-29T10:41:00.000-07:00

I have never been a huge fan of explaining my poetry. It's as if I have given a nicely wrapped present and blurted out the secret of its content before the final piece of tape is pulled. But this one isn't really shrouded in mystery, so I will just say this, it is an amazing time to be living in St. Louis.

I Love You when You Sleep

Black Borsalinos and trench coats
Shuffle down sparsely populated sidewalks
Youthful eyes of old ladies carrying yoga mats
Agendas trickle down open highways
Previously filled with turn signals and brake lights
For some
The final stop
For others
The first of many
All motivated to get there
To be there
To move while the rest sleep
They lay
Behind locked doors
Beneath ceiling fans
Wrapped in wool and covered by down
Dreaming of red birds and sheep
Twitching to I, IV, V heartbeat
Those high on the hill
Wave their green, white, red
Paying homage to heritage and sister city
Southerners scar themselves in remembrance
Wide open West
Now cluttered with track housing and strip malls
Bridges built to bring together
Create barriers
Lines of demarcation
Fabricated fear surrounds the North
Where children play with innocent smiles
Unknowing
But now
Now they sleep
Peaceful
And the beauty of this moment is captured by those that see sunrise

Reveille

2011-10-10T09:08:00.001-07:00

I am kind of odd in that I am both a morning and a night person. It is mid-day and early evening that suck for me. I have definitely always had a special relationship with the morning, and that relationship is brought to its pinnacle when there is someone else to share it with.

I had just intended to create a #MicroPoetry this morning, but there were too many pieces to the image I was painting.

Reveille

Woke-up
Chest to back
My arm
Beneath breasts
Clutching ribs
Your hands
Beneath pillows in prayer pose
Angelic
Our lower trunks
Flesh to flesh
Both transuding and thickening
Our legs
Tangled root system
Soft silken skin
Woven through weathered limbs
Your feet
Cold
Burrowed between mine and sheets
Your hair
Shrouding sleeping smile
My white fringes
Pop against purple pillow
My lips find your lobe
To whisper your reveille

Connecting the Dots - Explaining the Poet Process

2011-09-29T15:14:00.000-07:00

Lips lost in shadows
Nape of neck
Beneath pale yellow glow of Gibbous Moon
Exposed
Wanting
Tongue sears flesh

Those that follow my Twitter or my Facebook posts may have seen that already, and all of you will see it again when I do my next Quarterly #MicroPoetry recap, but I wanted to use it to play connect the dots.

A week or so ago one of my friends who has been very complimentary of my #MicroPoetry posts asked me where I get them from…where the words come from. It is a question that I am frequently asked. As per usual, I responded with something along the lines of, “The words are always in my head. I am just glad to have an outlet for them.” That is a true statement; however, it is a cop out. There is more to it than that. There is a process. Sometimes the process is as close to Chaos Theory as one who does not understand Chaos Theory and can only reference it because he saw Jurassic Park can come. Other times, this time, there are dots that can be connected.

My mornings begin at 4:00, actually 3:57. I am kind of freakish about numbers. I like 7s, 4s, and 3s. In my head, if I set my alarm for 3:57, I will be more likely to wake up than if I set it for 4:00 on the dot (No. I do not really believe this theory; however, I still apply its principles). I get up early so I can make it to the gym by 4:30. This is a two snooze process. The first 9 minutes are used to fight pains, keep my eyes closed, and take deep morning breaths. The second 9 minutes are used to check texts from overnight, Twitter, Facebook, and E-mail. God forbid something important waits more than the 5 hours I slept to get a reply. It is during this time that I start to gain cognizance, and my mind herds all the images and words from my paradoxical sleep into cohesive, logical, thought. When I wrote that poem, my mind could not stop saying new moon, so I went with it. Over the next hour, while my body was enduring a series of sweaty and pain inducing exercises, my mind wrote, but it did not put words on paper, it spoke the words. It switched out words, restructure lines, and tweaked them until there was a flow. By the time I left the gym, I knew, just about, what I wanted to post, but I was not done.

While I am a believer in “first thought, best thought” (a famed Ginsberg quote), I am also a fan of “Check yourself before you wreck yourself” (courtesy of Ice Cube). – At times I can get so wrapped up in the rhythm, the meter, the flow, that the words will not make sense (see rant about Chaos Theory above...I liked the flow and the comedic bend; however, when read closely, it doesn't really mean what I had intended to say, but I left it in there to prove this point...yes I am jerk for making you go back to re-read that). During college I was a member of the Griffin Literary Society. We were sharing work one day and Ryan Buller called me to task on it, on the fact that while a piece I had written had incredible flow, it wasn't accurate. One of the few critiques that has stuck with me. – The reality is I didn’t exactly know what a New Moon was. I knew it was part of the lunar phase, but not which part. Thanks to Google and Wiki, I learned a New Moon ain’t illuminating shit. Google also reminded me that it was part of the Twilight trilogy, something I wanted to avoid. I like entendre as much as the next self-absorbed writer, but if the allusion is to a teen-centric pop-culture phenomenon, thanks, but I will pass. By this time I was fixated on the nape of the neck, about how it looks with soft light of midnight moon breaking blinds to illuminate it, as hair and face, shoulder and arm, disappeared into the dark corners. I needed a different moon to accurately create that image. I could use Full Moon, but, much like Twilight, I did not want to make any blatant Werewolf references, so I opted for gibbous. With the brush and colors determined, I set off to paint my picture. The majority of my morning poetry posts come out of this process.

But why moon; why nape?

Well, this is where I speculate, where I try to uncover the secrets of the subconscious mind. As you probably know, I drive a convertible, and I LOVE driving top-down. I worked late last night. My trek home was a peaceful journey lit by headlights and moon glow. Another contributing factor could be my drives to the gym. The world is amazing in the 4 o’clock hour: still, silent, dimly lit by Closed signs and moon light. Those moments of calm have a tendency to ingrain themselves in my memories; they create multiple traces, causing quick recall. As a result, they often find their way into my writing.

Originally I thought "nape of neck" was just my love of literary consonance, and that definitely played a part, but then I remembered this picture my friend Jessica Hayley recently posted. Jessica is in the band Bye Bye Blackbird and is an amazing singer; she also acts and often has the best damn profile pictures on Facebook, not just because she is pretty, but because they are artsy. They have good composition and are emotive. Here is the shot:

The image made an immediate impression on me. The darkness of her hair and black shirt juxtaposed against her lightly sunkissed skin and the textured white backdrop. It was as if a painter was using chiaroscuro to provide dimension, to direct our focal point, and my eyes went to the triangle, the shadow of hair on neck, the tender skin between neck and collar bone. It was mesmerizing. It wasn’t until today, when I revisited the photo, that I realized her shirt was low enough to misguide eyes, driving them to another triangle, the dark shadow separating lust from love. This is also where poetic license comes into play. The photo did not feature Jessica's nape, but "side of neck" just doesn't have the same ring to it. But why now? Why some fifteen days since I originally saw the photo did it find its way back to my psyche?

This:

That image was being tossed around on Facebook yesterday. One of my friends posted it, and I shared it. I saw several of my friends share it, and I got a TON of likes on it. The statement obviously resonated with many people, and it really touched on a core belief of mine. Media and industry have done an amazing job of misrepresenting what is beautiful, like their sole purpose is to create unobtainable ideals that are only attractive to the fringes. Women (and men) are slicing themselves open at an alarming rate, stuffing plastic pillows in chests and asses because to a weak mind that is going to make them prettier, going to give them confidence, but their definition of pretty is so incredibly skewed by an industry that has it wrong, that never asked the consumer. I am sure there are several plastic-bros that will disagree with me, but the nape, the tender flesh hidden by hair, is so much more alluring than a set of inflatable double Ds which are completely demystified by an in-your-face culture that has been putting tits on display to sell products since there was an open market, but the nape…oh the nape is sexy, sultry, and it deserved it’s time in the moon light.

For the record, we are far less concerned with the size of your breast or your weight than whether or not you are fun to be around. Sure we have preferences, but I have yet to meet a breast I wouldn't play with.

Music is Life

2011-09-18T07:54:00.000-07:00

Seems like forever since I have done a blog, not a rehashing of poetry or a written advertisement for an upcoming show, but actually let you know where my head has been. As the title would indicate, for me, music is life. I say that knowing that in reality work occupies over 70 percent of my time these days, but this blog is not about that. This blog is the fantasy where I convince you all I am super cool and artsy and totally ignore the fact that I am every much the rat in the cage that you are, paying my time to the florescent light waterboarding just like you do, have the same daily debate…to go in or not to go in, that is the question. Sadly, mine always ends in to go in. I am not sure I have ever actually taken a sick day. At any rate, this is not about that. This is about music because music is life.

So my recent string of shows kicked off in August with a pretty fantastic roadtrip to NOLA (New Orleans, LA for the non-hip *smiles*) to see Death Cab For Cutie. There are a few things what would make an adventure such as this Amazing. The obvious two are NOLA, which I am absolutely in love with, and Death Cab. I mean my last band, So Much Closer, took its name from a Death Cab song. For those that never knew that, here is a video of Transatlanticism where the name came from.

The other reason would be my roadtrip companions. As you would expect, Stephanie was there, but we were joined by Julie and Kelly. I am not quite sure how I ended up on a roadtrip with 3 girls or why none of their significant others seemed to mind. I guess I am “that” guy. I can hear the discussions at home, “But it’s just Eric.” “Oh, well then in that case you have my blessing.” In the end, I’d rather be “that” guy than the guy that you don’t trust your girl around because he is super smarmy, and you never know when he is gonna cross the line.

Five days after the roadtrip, So Much Closer was playing its last show at Old Rock House. It was bitter sweet for sure. I loved So Much Closer, loved the originality of our sound, our diversity, and had a blast gigging with the guys, but sometimes things just have to end.

The next morning I was on a plane to California to see Amos Lee. In truth I was going to see my mom, but Amos and the desire to avoid holiday travel were the catalysts. I had decided early on that I was not going to travel over the holidays this year. Without a doubt it is the worst time to go anywhere, the airports are insane, everyone is on edge, weather is always a factor, and you miss out on two of the most chill weeks at work. Unless you work at the Post Office, UPS, FedEx, or some other delivery service, no one does shit around the holidays. But what do we do? We sacrifice a couple weeks of catch-up and decompression to fight crowds, screaming babies, lost grandparents, longing lovers, and home-bound college kids all trying to get to the tree together, to unwrap shiny new things together. Well not me, not this year. I am going to breathe deep and think fondly of the time I got to spend with my family, while nuking a microwave meal (that is a lie, one of my amazing friends will have me over for dinner).

My love of music definitely comes from my mom, and while our tastes are not exactly alike, we both share an affinity for soulful artists, and there are few that are doing it better than Amos Lee. When I was putting together my mom’s iPod, Amos was the first artist I added. She has been a fan ever since. To be able to take her to a show at Humphrey’s, to get the amazing suite, dinner, and concert package, felt great. After all she did for me growing up, her continued sacrifice to raise two kids by herself, to play mother and father and warden when necessary, to deal with the bullshit of two bad kids (and trust me Twyla and I were not saints), I love that I am in a place now where I can do for her.

In a weird turn of events, Mom ended up coming back to Missouri with me, and since it was LouFest weekend, well she got to live the rockstar life; we’ll call it Rockstar Life Light. I was definitely conscious of not staying out too late, no after parties, etc., but we stayed on the move and had a great time at LouFest. My favorite moments of the festival were QuestLove’s set and Ume’s set.

Since Mom has been back in Cali, I have lost track of the shows I have gone to. I know there was Larkin Poe at the Old Rock House, AUCW at the Firebird, The Features and Robert Cray at Old Rock House, and Controlled Fires at the Luna Lounge, but I think there were more. Let’s just say I have been staying busy, and I have no complaints about that.

Since I haven’t been doing much writing outside of my #MicroPoetry, I wanted to give you a little gem I came across while cleaning out my iTunes. Here is me covering “Home” by Michael Buble. I totally forgot I recorded this. Enjoy!

Home by Buble covered by Eric Ketzer by SoMuchCloser

#MicroPoetry Overload // June - August 2011

2011-09-04T08:45:00.000-07:00

What is micro poetry you ask?

Well it is poetry for the ADD generation, poetry for the Social Media sluts offering up there minds, souls, and hearts to anyone that will read their 140 characters, or less. It is something I was introduced to by my good friend and fellow writer, Caroline Slee. Cara and I met in high-school, but our pens were lovers before we were born. Despite living states away for the majority of our relationship, we seem to always be able to find comfort in each others writings. I saw her making #micropoetry posts on Twitter back in May, and by the end of June I was all in. For me, it provides an opportunity to give life to the words inside my head, words that do not have time to materialize into a full-blown poem but may have enough poetic merit to justify a quick tweet.

Recently another high-school friend and writer (I know cool people, what can I say), Karen Greene, encouraged me to capture my #micropoetry posts, which I had not been doing. The more I thought about it, the more I realized she was right.

This is a culmination of all of my #micropoetry tweets from June through August. I have stripped them of their Twitter formatting, so they feel more like Tiny Poetry. Hope you enjoy!

And you
With permanent eyes
Gaze at me
Like you found something familiar

And I
Tired eyes
Watch your chest rise and fall
Pray we'll share this sunrise

I do not trust this sky
Opaque clouds blacken horizon where you should live
You have forsaken us

My fingers
Tangled in tangles
Your fingers
Attached to back
Our lips lust locked

And I
Live in the space between stillness and chaos
And you
Stare at me from the fringes

World before windshield
Flush with curves and empty lanes
Darkness in rear view

Sunshine warms cement
Clouds splinter the sky
Children pray for explosions

And I
Woke with the manufactured image
Of me inside you
And your face
As I moved deeper

With exhausted eyes
I navigate the morning by feel
Like a blind man absent cane

You
Full of intent
Look at me with daisy eyes
And I return the smile

Thickening self
Still wearing a ring of your lipstick
Greets the morning before eyes can say hello

As rotations of sun
Quick and uncontrollable
Create blurred horizons
I lean on friends
Find myself in their eyes

Your kiss
While welcome in winter
Saddens in summer
Burns limbs
Blinds eyes
Brings beads that fall from foreheads

Your words
Ride fissures
Hang on neurons
Float between synaps3
Land on receptors that make me feel

Open eyes to empty space
The sacred place where your head should be
Left untouched
For you

In completion of another rotation around the sun
A full Cancer moon smiles down on me
And I am content

My summer hand
Caressing your sun starved skin
Beneath blue hue bedroom light

Buried beneath Blankets
Eyes find peephole
Investigation produces reassurance
Morning is here

Your body
Parallel to ground
Moves with abandon
Contracts
Pulls emotions inward
Releases
Effortless

Sun
An arm's length away
Shrinks pupils
Cooks skin
Controls days
Oppresses

Palms
Nervous
Fingers
Tangled
Footsteps try to find shared rhythm
Arms sway in new love unison

Your fight befuddles me
Cries of proletariat fall on deaf ears
As you hold tight ill-conceived convictions

Foreign flavors
Touch tongue
Send shimmers
Evoke emotions
Produce pleasure

I dream of Silence
Like I heard that time in Alaska
One thousand yards of separation
Snow swallowing sound
Silence

Pinned to mattress
Immobile
Eyelids cemented shut
Ears deaf to inane buzzing
Mind in deep reflection
Exhausted

You
With intoxicating eyes and dazzling smile
Me
With fluttering senses and short breath
Dance in silence

And I
Awake
Moon high
Shades drawn
Streets empty
Embrace morning
Like a friend I am happy to see

And you who taught me to taste
Bring warm smiles with your antics and laughter
Make me grateful to know you

And you whose eyes have seen the same seas
Held me when I collapsed
Became family

And you who road my rollercoaster with me
Screams pulled from lungs to mouth
Now teach me to live calm

Close eyes with you on my mind
Your journey
Peak to valley to summit
Your strength
Your love
Inspires

Speechless moment
Three deep in recovery dreams
I trapped between solid yellow and broken white
Thought of you

I close my eyes in reflection
As the city beneath the sea stitches another memory on my heart
Forever binding us

I
Try to silence the head words
They
Only quiet when eyes close
Wake restless and loud

You who have seen my zenith and my nadir
Understand my orbit
Predict my course like plotting ancient charts

And you
Who can make me laugh in silence
Understand
The key to Forever is found in my smile

Waking
Sounds of Earth's energy and her magnificent light show
Calms
Makes me want to lie here for days

And I question it all
37
Functioning like I am 21 with more money
Working more than living
Living instead of sleeping
Empty

Painted sky
Smoke dissipates into desert canvas
Gentle burn of morning joe
AC units prepare for rise of Day's eye

Returning to the womb
I am reminded of the me apart from we
The streets haunted and words written
The birth of man

Silence
Interrupted by shuffling feet on morning tiles
Returns
When lights dim and bedrooms are full

You stalk me when eyes close
A face I cannot escape
A name I cannot place
You stare at me like I should know

I will miss bustling mornings with no agenda
Returning, instead, to the silent rush of a schedule dictated by tasks

With head on pillow I contemplate chess
Aggressive offense absent forethought reveals weakness
I attempt to evade Mate

And I look for your face
The face that haunts me
In the Red Face Sea
You a ghost

Sunburned masses
Migrate from Blue to Orange
While early risers occupying middle ground flip chairs in unison

I am happy
When daydreams of stage lights and audiences partaking in the communion of music
Hush white noise and routine

You with ancient finger and sad limbs
Tap my window
Let me know the barren season is near
Days of summer fade

Alright, now that you have read them, I do want to clarify one thing about me as a writer. The ubiquitous "You" is rarely an actual person, rather an ideal, a construct. However, there are definitely poems in this batch that are directed to a person. I did a series for my friends, so they would know how much they meant to me, but for the most part they aren't about anyone in particular. So as much as your inquiring mind would like to read into the salacious matters of my life, just know you are probably wrong.

Yes It Is True...

2011-07-17T09:03:00.000-07:00

I kind of dropped a bomb Friday night at the gig. It is true, that was our second to last show. So Much Closer's final gig will be August 19th at the Old Rock House. After the discussion there was a bit of a flurry on Twitter.

I did provide one answer:

However, I know you deserve more. I am sure many of you are hoping for some juicy details, stories of debauchery and drug use. Maybe Logan slept with Enright’s girlfriend, or while Swan was doing jail time he picked up a nasty Meth habit, but, sadly, none of that happened, not even some AA time for Logan and his Ice House addiction. The reality is we are just moving in different directions. Swan approached the band back in May and asked us not to book any additional shows. As you may or may not know, he joined Union Tree Review as a “fulltime” member about a year ago, I guess. Over the past year scheduling conflicts have caused us to cancel a tour, miss practices, and decline gigs, so we kind of saw the writing on the wall. He also wants to start doing some writing, and he should. He is a great musician and has an amazing voice. There is no reason he shouldn’t be fronting his own band. So with 3 potential projects, something had to give, and it was So Much Closer. At that time, I asked the Enright and Logan if we wanted to push on as a 3 piece, try to find a replacement, or call it (I was hoping for push on as a three piece…in my mind the less schedules I had to deal with the better, and I have always loved the space and freedom a 3 piece affords). Ultimately Enright pulled the plug. What I write has never been Enright’s thing. While we share some middle ground with Tom Waits and Smashing Pumpkins, most of the bands I love he doesn’t care about, and most of the bands he is into I have never heard of, so he, rightfully so, is going to look for a project that is more aligned with his interests. We used to joke about who would break-up the band first, and my money was always on Enright. I mean I wouldn’t want to play music I just kind of liked, as opposed to loved. In the end, there are no hard feelings, lots of shared love for each other, just time to move on.

The worst part about this break-up is we are just hitting our stride; we have settled in and finally found our distinct voice. I cannot count how many people told us our set on Friday was the best they had ever heard us play. Really it is like any relationship. We are just getting to the good sex. Sure new sex is hot, all lust filled and passionate, but at times it is sloppy. You’re breaking lamps and falling off of beds, hitting the wrong buttons at the wrong time and trying to recover; you spend too much time fucking on floors and tables to really enjoy it, but after a year or so, you settle in…you learn how to make your bodies talk together, learn the sounds, the unspoken language…you’ve moved into exploration, and you feel safe enough to spontaneously introduce your desires. Friday was a perfect example of how we have developed and matured, and this video filmed by Jarred Gastreich captures us in our prime.

So Much Closer - Palace Doors from Jarred Gastreich on Vimeo.

So what happens now?

Well, you support Swan and Union Tree Review. We all wait to see what Enright gets himself into, and I do what I always do, build another band and play solo shows in the interim. Well, Chris is gonna continue to play with me, so they will be duo shows, but you should know by now I will never stop playing.

The Multiple Lives of Beekeepers

2011-05-29T08:38:00.000-07:00

Beekeepers, the new release by My Molly, finally found its way into my dash on Tuesday, and it did not leave all week, not until today when I took it inside to load onto my iPod. As a matter of fact its layers are surrounding me as I write this. By Wednesday I knew I needed to write about this CD, to do my part to spread the word because it is too good to be ignored, to sit on some sagging shelf filled with CDs of hungry artists seeking validation, to be ignored by a scene that is often so busy convincing itself how open-minded and awesome it is that it fails to realize that it is actually very cliquish and exclusive. But what is on this plastic spinning miracle defies clique maintenance, bridges borders, crosses gaps, and brings worlds together. Still I was struggling with what words to use. With all the adjectives floating from Broca’s Area to Frontal Lobe I chose two to focus on: Epic and Multiple Lives.

Beekeepers feels like an epic, and by epic I am not referring to Barney Stinson, rather Beowulf. In great epics themes had numeric patterns, often religious numbers 3, 4, 7, etc. Whether intentional or not, Beekeepers has these patters. In “Bad Things” they place the listener in the woods, dark woods, frightening woods, the woods that made us tremble when we were children.

These trees are alive and smiling their teeth that are made of bark are sharp. Our feet are black and blistered from running through these dark woods.

Instantly I am trust into memories of me too deep into an exploration, lost, confused, crying, and praying God would get me home. Then during “Witches” (6 songs later or 3 songs and 3 songs) they bring us back to the woods accept this time they validate our fears.

I was racing late at night through Salem’s autumn woods.

But they don’t want to hurt us; they want to love us, so three songs later in “Circuit Sunsets” they paint the woods in a different light:

I kept an eye on animals passing through long waving grass in a motion much like dance. I threw my shoes on a telephone line where laces intertwined by a dark wood soft romance.

Now my mind finds me in the same woods where first kisses happened beneath conifers as sunlight fought leaves and needles to find young bodies exploring touch and taste. Three times the woods are mentioned each time separated by values of three. Again, this could all be coincidence, but intentional or not the varying patterns make Beekeepers interesting, help give it multiple lives.

A CD having multiple-lives is as much about production as it is about the songwriting. Some serious credit needs to be given to Brian Sowinski. As I stated earlier I have listened to this CD all week. Each time I hear something new. That is the sign of a good recording to me. It wasn’t until listen #3 when I realized there was mandolin on “Knitting with Penelope.” It had perfect placement in the mix where my ears heard it as part of the composition, but it wasn’t begging for attention like a jealous little child wanting to play airplane. Situationally it also takes on different forms. When the I was driving with the top down the vocals and rhythm were perfectly balance so I could hear them above the wind whipping about. When the rains came and I had to put the top up, I could hear the truly focused instrumentation and layers. Even today listening to it for the first time with a sub I am pleasantly surprised with the thickness of the bass lines. They have excellent tone and enough movement to contribute without distracting.

By now I am sure you think I have lost all objectivity, that because my history with My Molly and my previous declarations of admiration and adoration I am not hearing the faults with the CD, and you would be wrong. There are a couple sour notes, an instance or two when I may have blown out the tracks to ensure everyone was hitting the one after a break. There was one spot where I would have picked a different instrument to lead in from a break, but then I asked myself would any of that make the CD better? Absolutely not. It is just some picky bullshit that ears that have been doing this for almost half their lives hear, and while it may improve that tiny moment it would not improve the CD.

Having grown up with vinyl I certainly appreciate the hipster trend to drop recordings on LPs, but what I have always loved about CDs is they allow you to experience the creation in its entirety without interruption to flip the record or tape. There is no longer a differentiation between A side and the dreaded B side where tracks go to die, now everything must be good. Rather than dropping 6 great songs upfront and then letting the CD disintegrate into dribble, Beekeepers is a slow build with recurring themes that climaxes on the second to last song then gently holds you for one final track, letting you know you are not alone. I encourage all that buy this CD to give yourself an hour to hear it from first act through finale, and I encourage you all to buy it.

That being said, we all have favorites and for different reasons I have two. With the blessings of Morning Bird Records and My Molly, I have been given permission to share those two with you. “Fission and Fusion” is the most vulnerable song on Beekeepers from the first line they expose their hearts, allow us to see through the stories, the adventures, to really feel what they are feeling without metaphor cloaking their intent.

Well I warned you I told you so, that you could leave it up to me to make an unresolvable mess out of everything. The sun and moon were in your eyes, and now that you’re gone I’ll sleep alone tonight.

Fission And Fusion by My Molly

There was some mild debate going on between me and the head of Morning Bird Records, Abi Robins. I was cemented to “Fission and Fusion” as the best song, and she tied herself to “Tie Me to the Mast” for her pick. While I am always going to pick raw emotion, I cannot deny that the sweeping harmonies in “Tie Me to the Mast” are without a doubt my favorite musical moment on Beekeepers. For that reason it gets a shared spot for favorite track on the CD.

Tie Me To The Mast by My Molly

I hope you enjoyed the songs and seriously encourage you to purchase this CD and see My Molly whenever you get a chance.

Sleep Walking at 15,000 Angels

2011-05-22T11:12:00.000-07:00

Often the best part of travel for me is the plane rides, not the moments leading up to the plane rides but the actual flights, the moments when I am able to close my eyes and bathe myself in music. While music seems to be somewhat omnipresent in my life, it is often obstructed by my need to think. On a plane I am completely carefree, having relinquished control of the situation to higher powers and some guy that has only had 6 hours of sleep in the last 36, whose breath still smells of whiskey and the flight attendant’s breasts.

Awe shit, what just happened there, I am two stanzas away from a Penthouse Forum post, and I was supposed to be talking about music. Let's get back to that.

I had the opportunity to go to San Francisco this week which afforded me several hours of unobstructed listening time. I chose to swim in sounds that I knew would make me feel. I have never shied away from feeling. Actually I tend to embrace it, proudly tattooed myself with a purple tear drop signifying my reliance on emotions. Above thoughts and talent, emotions are what make me me. The worst part of my divorce was not the loss of her but the loss of me. This is a very strange concept to discuss because it is not physical. There is nothing specific that can be used to convey what happened to me after my divorce. The best way I have found to describe it is to say I was dead inside. I realize how awful that sounds, but in truth that is where I was. It is something I still struggle with some seven years later when I feel like I am sleepwalking (that word is going to become even more relevant in a few moment, so hang in there with me) through life, when I am not sure I will ever feel again, but then I turn to music and it stirs me in ways that help me realize I am alive and well. I may have built some walls to protect myself, but beneath the castles fortress I am as I have always been, tender, sensitive, and full of love and life.

In an effort to catapult myself over the walls, I listened to a lot of duets during the flights, something about the harmonies and the stories really helps me to feel the music. Here are a few that really resonated with me.

“Falling – the Civil Wars”

“Rootless Tree – Damien Rice w/ Lisa Hannigan”

“Low Rising – the Swell Season”

I could probably bury you in videos, but I would end up posting so many that you would be overwhelmed and end up not watching any of them. So, I’ll stop there and leave you with this poem I wrote as a response to the music and head words bouncing from frontal lobe to limbic system.

“Sleepwalking at 15,000 Angels”

As I listen to voices
Dance between melody
Always in harmony
I close eyes
Picture your face
Your smile
Its energy could fuel this mechanical bird
Floating between clouds and ground
Suspended between streams
Particles unseen but felt
Like spirits hold me
When I close eyes
Picture your face

But I am sleepwalking
Living in mind moments
Consumed by two dimensions
Unable to build bridges
Escape routes
Freedom tunnels
Rich
Vibrant
Graffiti
Guiding
Propelling

But I am sleepwalking
Numb
Flat
Darkness
Frightens
My only light
Your smile
When I close eyes
Picture your face

I Cannot Thank You Enough - Gig Recap

2011-05-07T22:12:00.000-07:00

Throughout my career as a musician I have had the pleasure of meeting and playing with many great bands from other states. When I really like someone I will buy their CD(s) with the intent of following their careers and keeping in touch with them. Inevitably life happens and it is not long before their CDs are collecting dust on a very full CD rack, and the random appearance of a song on an iPod shuffle serves as a reminder of a great night of music in a life filled with these moments. Thankfully my experience with Patrick Bloom has been different.

Patrick and I met back in 2006 when Whiskey Daydream was just getting started. His band came down from Iowa for a show at Cicero’s and we were fortunate to open for them. I got a CD that night, and I have been a fan ever since…now my parents are fans…my friends are fans…and Patrick and I are friends. I have been up to Iowa to share the stage with him, and tonight he came down to St. Charles to grace us with an amazing night of music.

Why is it different with Patrick? A couple of reasons, first he is the embodiment of everything that I love about music. I cannot listen to one of his songs without finding a line in it that I wish I would have written. He is a writer’s songwriter. As a poet first songwriter, I hang on his words like a child clinging to his father’s shoulders on his first piggyback. Second, he is a great person. All too often these meetings are based on façade, band member’s stroking egos in hope of finding a friend to guide them through the tumultuous seas of the industry, but with Patrick and I the respect is mutual, genuine, and the relationship extends beyond words and music.

Here is Patrick playing my favorite song of his, “Brooklyn.” Enjoy!

Of course I played this evening as well. This is me doing “Feel the Sun.”

Before I close out of this post, I need to thank everyone for coming out. Seriously every aspect of my last 13 years in Missouri was represented: Jeff (my best friend and college roommate) and Patricia…folks from Verizon where I worked post Bachelor’s. People I currently work with. My morning workout buddies. Matt Kury from Revence who I have known since I was in EKe. Benjamin Ash who was in Whiskey Daydream with me. My Twitter peeps: Meredith, Jane, Louis, and Karen…my core crew: Stephanie, Julie, Vinnie, Jen, JT, and of course Ryan, Laura, and Aurora. It was amazing to see everyone, and I am so thrilled you came out for this show. I know I play way too much for my own good, so it is hard to come to all my gigs, but I was terrified Patrick would drive all the way down here to play for 7 people, but you packed the place, and I cannot thank you enough.

I love you all!

How Twitter Made April More Awesome…

2011-05-01T07:56:00.000-07:00

Before getting into this, I wanted to let you know I did question whether or not it was appropriate to create a post exclaiming April was awesome when the same month brought storms that ravaged the majority of the Southeast and caused some serious damage in St. Louis and St. Charles County, which is where I live. What has happened is terrible. The lives lost in Alabama are shocking and disheartening, but it is events like I am about to talk about that help me to deal with tragedy, so I press on.

If you are a regular reader, you know that April = Awesome and was stacked with an amazing assortment of concerts. I was on-tap to enjoy at least four; however, before the calendar flipped to May, I was fortunate to have gone to 6 shows, two of them because of Twitter.

For those that do not know The Civil Wars, you should. They were coming to one of my all time favorite venues, the Old Rock House, but before I realized I was not alone in my obsession for Joy Williams and John Paul White’s breath-stealing harmonies, the show sold out. I fretted about it for a few days, and then started posting tons of The Civil Wars tunes on Twitter to console myself for missing this opportunity.

Without expectation, a friend from Twitter, Adam Houston, who I had recently met in real life (IRL as the cool kids call it), popped into my feed letting me know he had an extra ticket. Originally another one of our friends had claimed it, but her husband could not attend, so she offered it up. I jumped on it like Tigger jumps on Pooh. Aside from a gaggle of Wooh! Girls and their Bro boyfriends that thought it was completely acceptable to talk and cackle through the performance, it was amazing.

After seeing Company of Thieves (Yes I chose them over the Decemberists and Wakey! Wakey! and they did not disappoint) this Wednesday, I thought my concert going was over for the month, then I received a rather ominous DM (Direct Message for those that still scoff at Twitter).

Matt Riding is someone I have been following since the beginning but had never met IRL. He is a major player in the Social Media circuit, and while the bulk of our on-line conversations have been about music, we have had some professional exchanges as well. With that post coming in in the middle of the workday, I was a bit concerned that something had gone wrong and needed immediate attention, as Matt isn’t one to randomly DM me. I skeptically replied…

As it turns out, Matt had a spare ticket to Tift Merritt and Stephen Kellogg at, again, the Old Rock House. Admittedly I had never heard of Stephen Kellogg, but I have a few of Tift Merritt's CDs, so I was all over it. They both played acoustic, no band, just voice and 6 strings, and it was unbelievable.

If you seriously want to go to an amazing acoustic show, go to the Old Rock House for one of their Listening Room Series. The venue is PERFECT for singer/songwriters. When they first opened, I played there, solo, every Sunday for a few months, and I was always amazed at the sound of the room, even pushed it fully unplugged a couple of times. While rock shows are also great there, I am excited to see they are also using the room to display its natural gifts.

The video I shot off my phone was weak, but I found this one YouTube so you could get an idea of what Tift was like live.

All this talk of singer/songwriters and acoustic music reminded me that my friend Patrick Bloom is coming in town from Iowa to play the St. Charles Coffee House with me this Saturday, May 7th. It’s a pretty hefty drive to come down from Iowa, so I really want to pack this place. If you are reading this, please come to the show and bring some folks. I guarantee the music will leave your heart feeling warm and loved, and the coffee will keep your mind up for hours (Note: fear not they do have a nice selection of beer and wine).

See you all on Saturday!

Casualty of Conflict - Taylor Comes Home

2011-04-23T14:01:00.001-07:00

Taylor, my angel, was a casualty of conflict, a prisoner of war, and by war I mean a fairly amicable divorce between two people that loved each other, respected each other, and didn’t want to hurt each other. Like any child, Taylor was the one piece of the separation that we could not agree on, and ultimately I caved, a decision I have regretted since 2004.

Taylor, you see, was my 1996 Taylor 412. I purchased her from my good friend Rob Woerther for $500 back in 2000, right after Angela and I were married.

For those that are wondering, did your ex play guitar? The answer is no. For those that just shook your heads in disgust, thinking why the hell would she take your guitar, I will explain. At the time, Angela was interested in learning to play guitar, and I needed a second acoustic for live shows so I could keep one tuned to DADGAD which is an alternate tuning that I often use when writing songs. That being said, in the 4 years we were married, she played the guitar for a grand total of 11 hours, 17 minutes, and 34 seconds. I may have been a bit generous there. While I understand that she wants to learn to play, if you are living with a musician who is more than willing to teach you, and you don’t do it, you are never going to learn. In her mind it was her Taylor because she was bought, in part, so she could learn to play. In my mind, she was my kid. I was the one that held her when she cried, changed her diapers, kept her hydrated and fed…she was my go to guitar. I wrote 3 albums on her, toured over 8 states with her. She is me.

However, when it came down to it, I turned my back on her to keep the peace. I mean she is just a guitar, right? I have tons of them. Well, the problem is, of all my guitars, Taylor is my favorite. I even have another Taylor. It is a 410CE from the same year, but there is something about this guitar. Maybe it’s the combination of Rob’s energy and mine that has seeped into her beautiful mahogany. I don’t know. She is just a very special.

To her credit, Angela offered to let me buy her several times over the years, but I wouldn’t do it. It was a matter of principle for me. She was my guitar, like paying to sleep with your own wife (yeah, I know what I just said…it made sense in my head. I am just going to leave it alone), but I just could not find a replacement. The number of guitars that I have bought and sold in an attempt to replace this beauty is staggering…seriously. At one point, I bought a brand new Taylor 412ce. I mean it is the SAME. GUITAR. Right? No. Again, there is something special about her.

As you may or may not know, Angela now works at my office (yes, I knew she was applying, even helped her through the process and served as a reference…we have never not been cool to one another, this is the kind of people we are). We bump into each other from time to time, so sometime around September I decided I needed Taylor back. I just couldn’t be without her, like she had been held in some P.O.W. camp, and I was determined to free her at any cost (well any may be a stretch). Angela and I went back and forth. I told her what she was worth; she had some “people” give her an assessed value; I busted out the Blue Book value on her, and it seemed like we were at a stalemate. But I had to MalcomX the situation, by any means necessary. So a couple of weeks ago I shot her one final offer. The text read, “$XXX (all you need to know is I bought her back for more than we paid for her) for Taylor…what say you.” She took a few days to respond. I had almost lost hope, but she rolled into to my office on Monday to let me know we had a deal. Taylor came home on Thursday, and I couldn’t be happier.

Rather than post a poem, I thought I would post a video so you could hear her. I recorded this this afternoon. Thought it would be good closure. "Picture Frame" was written on Taylor a few months after my divorce. Enjoy.

April = Awesome

2011-04-03T07:52:00.001-07:00

For those in the winter weather weary Midwest you probably think that this blog is the official announcement of sunshine's arrival. Well, you are wrong. Not that I am not stoked about Old Man Winter going into hibernation for several months, but this post is about the alignment of stars, about all things that are great in this world, including Cool-Whip and Cherries, taking the passenger seat to the Month of Rock.

Without a doubt this April features the best line-up of shows I have ever seen in one month, so I thought I would do a little video collage of the concerts I will be attending.

Up first Queens of the Stone Age at the Pageant. Unless you have your tickets, you are out of luck...SOLD OUT!!! This concert is extra special for a couple reasons. 1) It is my first time seeing QotSA 2) I graduated high-school with the lead singer, Josh Homme. I know you all just thought, how is this your first QotSA show then? Well, I was actually a bigger fan of Josh's first band Kyuss. That was the band I grew up with, the band I saw at generator parties in high-school, the band I listened to every time I took a trip from San Diego to Palm Desert.

Now, were Josh and I good friends, absolutely not. In fact the last time I bumped into him was when I was home on leave from bootcamp. I approached him to tell him that I saw the video for Green Machine, and I thought it was awesome. He was a total cocky ass. But whatevs, I am quite sure he would have no idea who I was today. We played football together, and maybe had two classes together. But, it is still cool to know that you can accomplish what he did with his life, and the reality is, as a musician, I have the utmost respect for his playing, producing, and for the fact that he essentially created a new genre of music called Stoner Rock.

Year book photos:

"Go with the Flow"

Flowing up this rockfest we have the 1st Annual Pajammy Jam. I put together a great line-up of performers: Brian Sowinski, Loza, and of course my band So Much Closer, the Koken is a super cool space, and my good friend Vinnie Saletto is running sound. Plus our friends My Molly are going to be joining us for two songs. SO COOL!!!

Flyer:

This show is NOT sold out, and actually we could really use some support. I mean you get to wear your pajamas, who doesn't love that? Here is a little commercial we made for it.

The following Thursday, April 14th, the Damnwells are coming to town. I think my love for this band has been made very clear through the course of this blog. If you somehow missed it, read the Epic Roadtrip '09 series. Trust me, if you are in St. Louis, and want to see a great show, you will want to come to Off Broadway on the 14th.

"Werewolves"

April 22nd has me over at the Old Rock House for the Black Angels. I am new to the Black Angels, but the Old Rock House just implemented one of the coolest things any venue has done, local musicians, in current bands, can get in free to any show at ORH. To say I am going to be spending a lot of time at this venue is an understatement. I have asked them to just put a cot up for me.

On April 27th I am in a HUGE quandary. I have a ticket to go to the Pageant for the sold out The Decemberists show, but there is a conflicting show at Off Broadway that has Company of Thieves on the bill. It is hard to say for sure, but Company of Thieves probably put on my favorite show I saw all of last year, and seeing them at Off Broadway would be amazing...What. To. Do.

The Decemberists "Down by the Water"

Company of Thieves "Oscar Wilde"

If someone can please let me know what they would do about the 27th, I would really appreciate it. Here is to an AWESOME April!!!

**Update**
SHIT!!! I just remembered Wakey! Wakey! is going to here on the 27th too. I think the booking Agents need to start working together this is crazy. Three shows I would LOVE to attend all on the same night. DAMN!!!

"War Sweater"

Still Thinking of You...the Unsolved Mystery

2011-03-20T07:52:00.001-07:00

Those that follow me on Twitter or have "Friended" me on Facebook, may be aware that on Friday I came home to a rose on my doorstep.

This is probably a totally normal event for most you, or at least an event that has happened to you before. Not me. Except for when my dad forgot my birthday and sent the obligatory "Oh Shit" flowers, I cannot recall ever being sent flowers. That being said, it was completely anonymous. So, if the sender is reading. Thank you. You have no idea how cool that was for me. I was already on a post-gig high from playing an incredible 4 hour set with So Much Closer at the Brewhouse, and then I get a rose. Inced my cake indeed.

Of course, I have a curious mind, so I have used some deductive reasoning to narrow down suspects, but ultimately all I have are theories.

My first concern was was it intended for me, I mean I do have a roommate, and it wouldn't be the first time I received a neighbors mail. Well, unless there is another Eric in the house, I think it was for me, and they obviously know my address, which isn't really very hard to find on-line, so this has not helped me to narrow things down at all.

Now, I do not know Dierberg's delivery policy, but I couldn't imagine them rolling a van for a single non-vase rose, so who ever it is is close enough to do a drive by.

It would appear to be someone that I know but haven't talked to in a while. And for the doubters, a girl. No boy writes like this, unless my roommate planted it and purposefully girlied up the handwriting in some weird attempt to boost my self-esteem. Maybe since there has recently been a role reversal, he is WGF (with girl-friend) and I am SGF (sans girl-friend), he thought I needed a pick-me-up. Previous to his WGF status I would have never thought him capable of doing something of this nature, but I saw him turn into Betty Crocker over Valentines Day, so it is not outside of the realm of possibilities.

The reason I think I haven't talked this person in a while is the use of "Still." I am actually pretty friendly with most of my ex's, so we talk (sometimes) daily, weekly, definitely monthly. I'll see them at shows or other functions. If it were one of them, I would expect them to just put "Thinking of you" as opposed to "Still thinking of you!" There are a few that I have lost contact with, so they have just moved up in the rankings.

The next clue could be a completely random occurrence or could be indicative of someone that really knows me. This card was also attached to it:

Roses are without a doubt my favorite flower. So the person either got really lucky, or we have had enough discussions that this random tidbit of information came up, and they remembered it. Because I don't want to read too much into it and the fact that the rose is a fairly common place instrument used when showing interest, we'll say it was a random occurrence, which still leaves me with an open list of potential candidates, and an unsolved mystery.

Besides being just an incredibly cool gesture (albeit somewhat stalkeresque and creepy) it also made me do a little writing. The concept of "still thinking of someone" hit home sending some random flourishes of thought into my frontal lobe, so I released them here for you. It gets kind of racy, so you are warned.

I Still Think of You

You
Whose energy ignited social sparks and summer skin
Like solar flares exposing a fragile atmosphere

You
Whose genius and creativity caused curious moments
Like humming baroque movement melody on first date

You
Whose sunshine smile and intoxicated laughter released daydream-desires
Like pre-teen magazine-moments as he dreamt of what it would be like

You
Whose youthful kisses are still seared on wanting lips
Like Sigma stains shoulders of black brothers

You
Whose intelligence was only usurped by insatiable passion
Like mammalian brain absent Leptin leads to death by gluttony

You
Whose full breasts found my fingers kneading them
Like my thickening self needed to feel your warmth

Anointed by Soul and Spirit

2011-03-13T09:16:00.000-07:00

As I was driving home last night, planning this post as mile markers disappeared into darkness and headlights provided my path for safe travels, I couldn't determine when I actually started to like dance. I know I was really into break dancing. My floor work was mediocre at best, but my popping was pretty good. Still I am sure it was before that, those Sunday morning cleaning sessions with Mom and Dona Summers or Al Jarreau or Lionel Richie or some other R&B artist improving the chores. Inevitably there would be a dance moment, a moment when mom took my embarrassed hand and taught me to shimmy or jive or twist. Dance is another one of those taboo interests that are not taboo to me because I was raised by my mom.

Of course, there was my senior year of High-School when I participated in the G.A.T.E. program, which was focused on making the performing artists multi-disciplined, Singers danced, Actors sang, Dancers acted, etc. There were also some high-school musicals when I dated my first dancer...ah, Cecilia, but I think my passion for it happened in college. Lindenwood had a really great Dance program. While I was in school I took every opportunity I could to learn and grow. While others were passing out drunk under trees, I was at dance concerts, art shows, and theater performances. This is also how I met my ex-wife. She was an amazing dancer, moved with passion and power. She spoke through movement, and I had open ears. During our relationship I learned a lot about the history of dance and dance companies. Her favorite was Alvin Ailey for every time she mentioned another company like Pilabolous, she mentioned Alvin Ailey 15 times. Though we have now been divorced longer than we were married, my passion for Dance has never wavered. For the last 3 years I have had season tickets to the Dance St. Louis presentations and am completely addicted to So You Think You Can Dance.

I got to see the Alvin Ailey Dance American Dance Theater for the first time a few years ago and finally understood why Angela was so enamoured with the company. Dance St. Louis brought them back this year, and I was fortunate to have front row seats for yesterday's matinee. The piece that affected me the most was "Anointed" which was Choreographed by ex-Ailey dance Christopher Huggins.

Anointed from AlvinAileyAmericanDanceTheater on Vimeo.

While I do not have the words to adequately explain this piece, I will speak through the language I know best, poetry.

Anointed

They
Bestow blessings
Control movements
Evoke emotions through limbs and lungs
You
Fly effortless
Absent wings
Extension resolved into contraction as you engulf him
He
True David
Breathes life through arms and fingers
Saves you from gravity as bodies become one
I
Feel God
Experience Grace
Leave anointed by soul and spirit

I couldn't find an image of the exact moment I am talking about, and it was not in the preview, but here are some shots from the dance that I liked.

If you have never been to a professional dance concert, I encourage you to seek one out and experience a silent emotion that has the power to change lives.

The Not Embarrassed Fanboy

2011-02-26T06:37:00.000-08:00

It is completely evident, by now, that I am a bit abnormal. My interests don't seem to be inline with other 30 something males. A glowing example of this is my, relative, obsession with teen dramas. This was probably never as apparent as this Tuesday when I headed down to the Firebird to see a band I had limited interest in just because the lead singer, Taylor Momsen, is none other than Jenny Humphrey from one of my favorite shows Gossip Girl. As it turns out, she put on a helluva show and has a very powerful voice.

Judging by people's reaction when I say I like Gossip Girl, I know this is, apparently, socially unacceptable, but I am left wondering why. To me the fact that I like these teen dramas is about Nature verse Nurture, and what people do not realize is that is not an all-or-nothing proposition. The fact that I love boobs and soft skin is nature. The fact that I have never cheated on a girl is nurture. I was raised by my mother. It should stand to reason that I would have acquired a certain amount of feminine interests, one of them just happens to be teen dramas. Also, I would genuinely prefer to watch a Romantic Comedy than an Action flick. The reality is I am just man enough to admit it, to not be an embarrassed Fanboy.

My obsession with teen dramas started with My So Called Life, which is still probably the best show to ever air on public television. I was an avid fan of Dawson's Creek and Felecity, watched the OC, and now my DVR is set to record One Tree Hill, Gossip Girl, and my favorite of them all Friday Night Lights. One of the things that is great about teen dramas is they have introduced me to a lot of great music. While I'd like to be super hip and trendy, standing on the cutting edge begging the world to follow me, I am not. I like what I like, and I have never been concerned with being the first to discover the "newest" thing because frankly a lot of those new, pretty, things suck. Once the shine of newness has faded the world realizes it made a mistake. Here is a video recap of some of my best discoveries.

Of course My So Called Life, besides being the best show ever, launched the career of Jared Leto. The heartthrob who I actually couldn't stand, dude was always breaking my girl's heart. That, by the way, is a learned behavior. But now he fronts 30 Seconds to Mars. All that started right here:

Probably my best discovery was Death Cab for Cutie on the OC. I had been hearing that name for years, but I honestly thought it was some thrash band or something, until this episode.

Sorry it won't let me embed it. Watch the clip HERE.

The One Tree Hill has been great about bringing new artists on the show and even launching careers of cast members.

I still love the Wreckers.

While I cannot give One Tree Hill credit for introducing me to Kate Voegele, as I had been following her on MySpace for quite sometime, what the show did to launch her career was really cool.

Again, no embedding. Watch HERE.

And my most recent favorite who I actually got to see at Off Broadway and will be playing at the Firebird in April, Wakey! Wakey!

Favorite Track - Felt Not Seen

2011-02-19T08:16:00.000-08:00

Well, we finally made it. If you stuck with me through the review of my two solo CDs, the two EKe CDs, and the Whiskey Daydream CD, thanks! I am sure you are as tired of reading about my CDs, as I am of writing about them, but once I start something, I like to finish, and So Much Closer, Felt Not Seen, is a great finish.

This band has really brought me full circle. Whiskey Daydream was so deliberate, like I was obsessed with presenting an Alt-Country / Country-Rock sound, and while I love that genre and think my writing often falls there naturally, it is very limiting. With So Much Closer I am back to being stoked to have great musicians that want to play with me, and whatever happens happens. As a result defining our genre is damn near impossible. On Thursday we played with an awesome band from Nashville called The Compromise. We were chatting with their bass player, Adam, after our set, and he could not categorize it, "I kept thinking, what genre is this...it's good, but what genre." We have the same struggle, and I think we are okay with that.

Every band ends up having a defining member. I think most assume it is the singer, but that is a rarity. I defined EKe version 1, we switched just about every player at one time or another, and we still sounded, about, the same. EKe v2, once Scott Allen joined the band, is a totally different story. If Scott had never left the band, I may be still in EKe, but once he left, to me, it could no longer be called EKe because his presence was the dominant force. The same could be said of Brian Ruby in Whiskey Daydream. Once he left the band, Woody and I continued to play as a duo, but it was no longer Whiskey Daydream, same songs but a different entity had been formed. What is unique about So Much Closer is our defining member is the collective. Our drummer Patrick Enright, our multi-instrumentalist Patrick Swan, our bassist Chris Logan, and I all have very defined voices, and when all are singing it harmony it creates So Much Closer.

What Patrick brings to the kit is the complete opposite of what Woody brought to Whiskey Daydream. In all the bands I have been in I have never played with a drummer that was so calculated. He is never content to play the same beat and is busier than a squirrel preparing for winter. In his absence it would no longer be So Much Closer. The songs can stand on their own, but we would have to change the name because they would not sound the same. The same could be said of Swan. I would have to find someone that could play guitar, keys, and trumpet, plus breakout some of the most amazing harmonies these ears have ever heard, not likely to happen. Logan, well Logan is a rock. He, like me, isn't a schooled musician, but in a bassist I want feel, and that is what he brings. Plus his personality is so hysterical that he makes every event fun.

For these reasons, my favorite track off of Felt Not Seen is "Felt Not Seen." It is the only track in this seven CD series that was co-written. Swan provided the guitar melody, I contributed lyrics and vocals, and the collective developed the structure and defined the dynamics. Enjoy!

Felt Not Seen by So Much Closer by SoMuchCloser

Lyrics:

Man made fingers
Stretch towards heaven
They fold in prayer
Laser lights of lives in transit
Live in Transit

A waterfall of reds and yellows
Christmas’ kissing Easter’s Peep
Forming Halloween’s smile
It jack-o-lantern smile

Just a bridge it was a simple bridge
Taking me home momma taking me
Just a bridge it was a simple bridge
Taking me home
Da-da-dah-dow

Above a birdless midnight sky
Descends at eye sight’s edge
This moment a Trinity
Material, Motion, and Miracle

Material the Son
Born to provide passage
Carrier of souls
Receiver of prayers

Just a bridge it was a simple bridge
Taking me home momma taking me
Just a bridge it was a simple bridge
Taking me home
Da-da-dah-dow

Motion the Great Ghost
Trails of energy felt not seen
Omnipresent chill giver
Breath stealer

Miracle the Father
Provider of Physical Laws
Creator of motion
Creator of material

Just a bridge it was a simple bridge
Taking me home momma taking me
Just a bridge it was a simple bridge
Taking me home
Da-da-dah-dow

Inside Cover:

Back Cover:

Favorite Track - Whiskey Daydream

2011-02-12T07:16:00.000-08:00

Whiskey Daydream is very special to me, not just because it represented a genre shift or because it was the first time that I formed a band with friends or the immediate success we had...Whiskey Daydream was deliberate. Previously I would find people willing to play with me, and whatever happened happened, but not Whiskey Daydream.

Throughout EKe I was drawing my influence largely from Edwin McCain, Duncan Sheik, and people I knew, like Rob Woerther. However, towards the end of EKe my influence had shifted to Ryan Adams, Son Volt, and Drive by Truckers. You could hear it in songs like "Monday Morning" and "Restless Sheets," so when Scott left the band in 2005, and it slowly morphed into something that was no longer EKe, I called it quits. A couple months later, when I was ready to start a new project, I went into it knowing I wanted to create an Alt-Country band, and I did.

Whiskey Daydream was formed in November of 2005 and ended in June of 2007. It was short lived but powerful. We were nominated for the Best Americana Band in St. Louis by KDHK and Playback:STL. We got second place in the Battle for the Ark which helped us fund this CD, and played a LOT of shows, going as far north as Michigan, holding residency at Ten Mile House and made a second home at Off Broadway. It featured Corey "Woody" Woodruff on drums, Brian Ruby on leads, and Benjamin Ash on anything we asked him to play (primarily bass).

I knew going into this week that I could not pick one song. I just love this CD too much, so what I have selected are the 2 songs that were really the catalyst for the creation of Whiskey Daydream. The songs that once written made me realize I was operating from a different place, and I needed to embrace it.

"Whiskey Days" Is pretty straight forward Country Rock. We brought in the amazing Scott Schwartz to lay some Pedal Steel, featured my acoustic, and a tasty country-clean lead by Ruby. Brian's fingers spoke country and blues, and his voice is very distinct on this track. The laid-back brushed beat of Woody's drums still makes me smile. I had spent years with super busy drummers, so to work with someone that allowed the song to breathe and grow was so refreshing. And you can never say enough about a solid bass player. Although Benjamin could literally play anything, he was a terrific bass player, just super solid.

Whiskey Days by Whiskey Daydream by SoMuchCloser

Lyrics:

Dirt road, Grandma’s house
Gravel drive and the tall cattails
That’s me on the motorbike
Grandpa waving me home

Those are days when lightning warned of thunder
And rain clouds meant it was time to play
Before these whiskey days

Left my summers in the Hot Springs
Flew north to the dirty city
Skateboard wheels carving fresh asphalt
Remember how the girls were so innocent and pretty

Those are days when lightning warned of thunder
And rain clouds meant it was time to play
Before these whiskey days

Trapped inside 4 walls
And the window is crying
The bottles empty turned over
And I know you’re not coming back this time
All I have left is your picture,
And the edges have faded
Take a step outside
Let the rain kiss my forehead
Turn your picture over
Gonna rely on memory instead

My last offering to you is the other song that made me realize I had moved beyond EKe. While "Whiskey Days" was more Country-Rock, I think "Layover in Louisville" lands in the Alt-Country category. What I love about this song is not the song itself, but the recording. The dynamic shifts are powerful, Brian's lead is probably the most aggressive and eager lead that has ever been on one of my CDs, we worked the feedback like a ghost violin, Benjamin and I using a cheap keyboard and two Pods where able to create one of the best B3 sounds I have heard recorded, and while all this cacophony was developing, Woody was content to lay back and let it flourish rather than over power it. For those of you that know Woody from his time with Alvin Jett and Phat Noiz or The Lucky Old Sons or All Roostered Up, know what an incredibly sick drummer he is, part of that is his ability to hold back and then explode when the moment calls for it. He is kind of like a suicide bomber; he is the quiet neighbor that you would never expect to display that kind of behavior, and then one day...BOOM!

Layover In Louisville by Whiskey Daydream by SoMuchCloser

Layover in Louisville

The dance halls are empty tonight
Like my glass of whiskey
Lay my head on the dusty counter
‘Cause the bartender’s nowhere to be found

On a Layover in Louisville
And I’m 300 miles from somewhere
On a Layover in Louisville
Feels like I’m headed nowhere

The sound of Whiskey River;
Its urgency lifts my traveled head
The Mark burns just a little
And my glass is half empty again

On a Layover in Louisville
And I’m 300 miles from somewhere
On a Layover in Louisville
Feels like I’m headed nowhere

I take my last swallow
Let the Whiskey go down slow
I pour myself into 15D,
And I wake-up home

Under Tray, Whiskey Daydream Logo:

Back of CD:

Favorite Track - the reality of monday morning

2011-02-04T18:00:00.000-08:00

Alright, quick recap. You have caught me in the middle of a blog series based on my favorite track(s) from each CD I have recorded. Caught may not be the best word, it is not like my hand is deep in the cookie jar with only my elbow exposed as I fish out the last chocolate chip. Of course maybe it is worse, blog after blog of me talking about songs I have written and why I like them, could I be more of an egocentric prick? Possibly, but for a quick refresher, this is how all THIS got started.

It wasn't me, someone asked.

the reality of monday morning was very much a pinnacle yet transitional CD for me. It was the last CD EKe would ever record, but by many opinions the best CD I have ever recorded. It sold the most units, was the most favorably reviewed, received the most radio play...heck it even landed me my first gig at Mississippi Nights, a venue I had been trying to play since I moved to St. Louis.

I will never forget that call. I had recently sent press kits to every venue, radio station, and magazine in the area. I was sitting at my desk on a lunch break and my cell went off. I answered. On the other end I heard, "Hey this is Tim Weber (I may have pissed myself at that moment) from Mississippi Night." In my head I was screaming fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck it's Tim Fuckin' Weber - I cuss a lot when I am in shock. You have to understand this was my forth CD, and I had sent him everyone. My ex even walked Lost Angel into his office. I didn't think I would ever get this call. "Man, I have to tell you I NEVER do this, but I really like this CD, and I would like to set-up a show for you here."

This CD, the reality of monday morning, featured EKe v2.3. We were on our 3rd bass player, Mat Haynes, second drummer, Brian Sigmund (former percussionist), and had switched from guitar/keys to a dual guitar format with the leads being held down by Scott Allen, and Scott changed everything. He was (is) amazing. He played with soul and texture, and when required he would kill a lead. We became more jammy and somewhat Southern Rock. This was also the first CD without Rob Woerther. I decided it was time to move to a big boy studio, so we went to Smith Lee to track and the Double J Ranch for vocals and overdubs. John John engineered and produced the CD.

When I was going over the tracks on this CD, I immediately knew what my favorite track was. Although I love them all, "Been Down" had to be the pick.

Been Down by EKe by SoMuchCloser

"Been Down" received more radio play then any other song I have recorded. We were working with a radio promotion company at the time, and received lots of international play, as well as regional and local play. I know this sounds very David hasselhoff, "I am huge in Germany," but "Been Down" was actually the most requested song 2 weeks in a row on a small station out of Perth, Australia. I've always assumed they thought Been Down was like Down Under, but whatever. It was a cool feeling.

The song is actually about a movie I saw in 7th grade, The Town That Dreaded Sundown. Something about that movie stuck with me, so I wrote the song from the perspective of one of the victims. The story teller is outside himself watching the events occur. I let the girl get away.

Been Down

Intoxicated ignorance on a catfish Friday
There’s lovers in the parking lot calling his name
Bodies gyrate beneath my cherry glow
Beneath my cherry glow

There’s a cross swingin’ from the rearview
Tornado siren across the lion wind
Energy in the air but Momma I’m still alone
Oh Momma I’m still alone

Been down so long, oh my Momma
I’ve been down Momma, I’ve been down
Been down where the grass don’t grow no more
I’ve been down Momma, I’ve been down

Wet steal tapping glass
The crucifix pauses for a moment
He looks in and she looks up
Yes she looks up

Her torn dress disappears into night
There’s fire and lead across Emmanuel sky
My head it burns, I’ve got scarlet stains
I’ve got scarlet stains

Been down so long, oh my Momma
I’ve been down Momma, I’ve been down
Been down where the grass don’t grow no more
I’ve been down Momma, I’ve been down

There is another song that I really wanted to share. It was the closing track, "Time Disappears." By itself is a great song. It has timing shifts, a solid groove, and probably the best all out jam on the album. What it also has is a back-end hidden track. That is kind of a signature trick for me. I really like to hide tunes so those that are really listening get a little gift. What is so special about this hidden track is it was completely improvised. The band didn't even know we were going to do something. When they thought we were done tracking. I told them to throw a groove,and I would make up lyrics over it thanking all the people that had been supporting us. All I had was a list of the names of people we wanted to thank. To come off the cuff with music and lyrics and have it actually work is pretty damn impressive. It is long, so grab a beer, and give it a spin.

Time Disappears...Surprise Jam by EKe by SoMuchCloser

Favorite Track - Left Side of the River

2011-01-29T07:43:00.001-08:00

A happy Saturday to you all. Today, my Favorite Track series moves from solo CDs to band CDs with Left Side of the River by my first band the Eric Ketzer experiment, EKe. This recording actually occurred during EKe v1.2.5. We had lost our original bass player, added a percussionist, and the keyboardist that played on this CD quit before the production was done. It was a very trying time for me. On this CD you will hear me on guitar and vocals, Tim Brosch on drums, Mike McDade on bass, Joe Sherrell on keys, and Brian Sigmund on bass.

This is not my best CD. I am just going to come out and say it. EKe was my first band and we had barely been together for 6 months when we started to record this. I was just so excited to be in a band that I rushed the process.

Allow me to backtrack and paint a picture: 1987, dark winter months, glass fogged from the marriage of poor insulation and brutal Chicago cold. In his room stands a sandy haired kid, skater shoes, french cuffed jeans, and a dingy Vision Street Wear t-shirt. Strapped around his neck by an old frayed shoestring was a hockey stick that he strummed as if he was Randy Rhoads. And with the full throat of a 12 year old he sang, "Wine is fine but whiskey is quicker, suicide is slow with liquor."

This is all I have ever wanted. Sure there were dreams of playing professional football, but lack of height and insane slowness thwarted those efforts. Music has always been my core, my escape, the one thing I knew I wanted to do for the rest of my life. When I finally formed a band, I thought all those years spent in dreams were finally going to come to fruition. Five bands later, I know how silly I was, but in that moment, I felt we needed a CD that reflected the band's sound. Once we had that the skies would open and a chariot with flying Pegasus would take us to MTV where girls would grovel at our feet and media moguls would pronounce us the best thing since Pearl Jam.

Left Side of the River is definitely rough around the edges, but it is also very pure. Almost the entire CD was one tracked. Accept for some bass fixes and adding in some lead parts, this was all captured on one Saturday in a basement studio of a friend of a friend. Again, Rob Woerther was at the helm. Together we can be dangerous because we are both so fringed and willing to try anything. When I was like "lets crank the bass and make it feel like a live show." Rob one-upped me with, "lets add some sub-freqs to it." Of course all I could do was throw up the Rock fingers. The whole things was a learning experience for me. Still we did capture some good stuff.

We added this note when we realized we had mixed the CD so bass heavy that it sounded rough if you were pushing the bass on your system too.

"Impressions of Dance" is one example of the great stuff that got captured at these recordings. Lyrically one of my most academic yet sincere songs. The first song I wrote for my ex who I met in college. She was a Dance major, and I was obsessed with all the arts. Having spent time in G.A.T.E. where they taught the singers to dance, dancers to act, actors to sing, etc. I had so much appreciation for her art form, and I used it as my muse. At the same time, I was familiar with the love story of Degas and Cassatt. Degas the famed Ballerina sculptor, and Cassatt his mistress who would never bare children, so she painted them as lovingly as a mother holds her own child. Musically, I was really beginning to understand effects, understand how placement in the change can create different sounds. On this track I was running a Vertigo Vibe with a back-end distortion and used a Wah to add accents on various parts. All these spinning influences stopped, and this song was born.

Impressions of Dance - EKe by SoMuchCloser

Impressions of Dance

On point I see you reaching the heavens
Arms extended you touch seraphim
The embrace of cherubs purified your heart
In dreams your wings are revealed to me

And waking you pirouette through my mind
Like so many Degas I’ve seen
And resting you bow your innocent head
Like Mary Cassatt’s child

You create abstract worlds with perfect lines
Movement of grace dissect dimensions
Bridge together by omnipresent spirit
And I try to deconstruct your mystery

And waking you pirouette through my mind
Like so many Degas I’ve seen
And resting you bow your innocent head
Like Mary Cassatt’s child

Impressionist visions
Formed by my thoughts
And I clutch you like
Pyle’s Mermaid

Modern motion usurps reality
Hypnotized by your fluid performance
As the curtain falls I remain entrances
Your essence gives me wind

And waking you pirouette through my mind
Like so many Degas I’ve seen
And resting you bow your innocent head
Like Mary Cassatt’s child

Back Tray:

Inside Cover:

There was one additional thing that happened on this CD that I just have to share. I always include poetry on my CDs. Poetry/Spokenword are my roots, so I feel like I need to pay homage to the bridge that got me here. This time Rob and I concocted something truly special. Using acid loops Rob made the tune, and I did the poem. One of my favorite things I have ever recorded.

"Jazz Sounds"

Jazz Sounds by Rob Woerther & Eric Ketzer by SoMuchCloser

Favorite Track - Lost Angel

2011-01-23T07:59:00.000-08:00

Lost Angel, my second and last solo CD, to this day, is still probably my favorite CD that I have recorded, not my best, but my favorite. Let me explain the difference.

For me, best is an indicator of quality. Favorite, is indicative of enjoyment. This is not to say that the CD is not quality. The recording is spot on. But, I was still so young, had only played guitar for 5 years at this point, my writing was still developing, and my voice just continues to get better. When I listen to this CD, the tone of my voice is still thin, sharp, and lacks the maturity that I hear when I listen to my more recent recordings. However, when I listen to Lost Angel I am really pretty amazed at what Rob and I were able to accomplish.

Again, it was Rob Woerther producing and recording the CD in his studio. But if Unfulfilled Desires was a nice thin crust pepperoni pizza, Lost Angel would be a hand tossed, pepperoni, pineapple, and jalapeno pie with Ranch and Tapatio dipping sauce. I had a clean disc, a very earthy, folksy, disc, but at that stage in my career, that was not my style. I have always been a fan of effects and layering, so when we mapped out this CD, we decided to tear down walls...push boundaries. Rob was a new pro-tools devotee, and we were going to use every little trick he had learned to make the recording unique. Plus, I had now been in St. Louis for a few years, entrenched myself it the scene, so I was able to bring in a few guest musicians. Donald Williams (Sinister Dane, Sugardaddy, Getaway Car) played bass on a few tracks and brought a groove to those songs that I never knew was possible. Tim Moody (Sunny Daze, Naked Groove, Schwag) lent his lead capabilities to a couple tracks, and Joe Bingham (Autumn's Child) also contributed some guitar to one song. On top of that, Rob and I played anything and everything we could. "Desolation Angel," the opening track, actually had some distorted beat-boxing that we used to give it more rhythm. Musically Lost Angel, was the perfect representation of what I hear in my head. I'd think it, and Rob would make it happen.

Inside Cover...das Ketzer Collage

As you can tell, the layout was much better quality as well. This CD would signify the first time Nathan Hutchison did the design and layout for me. He would do the next 3 for me, as well. He also did half the photos. My ex shot the other ones.

Inside Fold...Angie shot this of Emily Turay back stage at a Dance Concert, and I loved the expression on her face so much that I had to use it.

All that back story to get here, the point where I reveal my Favorite Track. Because I knew I had committed to this blog series, I spent a few days this week listening to the CD, and I really struggled with picking my FAVORITE track. There are just a bunch of great recordings on the disc, but what I kept asking myself when listening is, is it a great song or a great recording. What I ended up with was one of the least produced songs on the CD, very little flash, guitar and vocals upfront, Rob added some pads to fill in the bottom end, and we brought Joe Bingham in to drop a nice acoustic lead on it, but what stands out for me are the lyrics, the story. I wrote this song as a wedding present for my college roommate, Billy Casseau. It was quite an exercise for me, one of the first times I stepped outside of myself to write, to paint someone else's story. The gift was more for his bride-to-be, Patti, so I sat down with Billy, got some details of their courtship (yeah, I said courtship...I am old school) and "Starting Today" was the result.

Starting Today by S. Eric Ketzer (2001) by SoMuchCloser

Starting Today

And I remember the first time our eyes they said hello
You were in copper skin your bare feet on the Aztec sand
In the soft distance you know I can still here that Mexican wind blow
The smell of the salt see and the taste of my cerveza
There are no sandy beaches in old Missouri

Starting today well my forever lies with you
Starting today oh my forever is found in your eyes
Starting today my forever lies with you
Starting today oh my forever is found in your eyes

Even after all these years I still look at you with innocent eyes
Like your second graders you know I’ve got my hands in the finger-paint again
And I use your inspiration to create my destiny
It’s the softness of your kisses; it’s the gentleness of your touch
It’s the way I feel inside tonight; it’s the way I feel when you wake up next to me

Starting today well my forever lies with you
Starting today oh my forever is found in your eyes
Starting today my forever lies with you
Starting today oh my forever is found in your eyes

Many years, you stood by my heart
Many tears, you know they were cried for love
Many fears, well I’m gonna kiss them all away
Many years, ‘cause forever is in your eyes

And as the Eiffel Tower you know it stares down upon me awake and lonely
I image the beautiful Arch is staring down on you
It’s the kiss of the moon; its light brings me near you
Across the great ocean and beaches where heroes died
Somehow we’re together, somehow when I close my eyes

Starting today well my forever lies with you
Starting today oh my forever is found in your eyes
Starting today my forever lies with you
Starting today oh my forever is found in your eyes

Yes, I know it was a six minute song, but I was painting a story that went from first introductions to the wedding. I am not going to smash 6 years into 3 minutes because some radio exec wants to sell an ad for hemroid creme. I hope you enjoyed the read and the listen. Stay tuned for next week and my favorite track from Left Side of the River.

Under the Tray:

Back of Disc, me and Rob...I had a small obsession with Hawaiian prints...

Favorite Track - Unfulfilled Desires

2011-01-16T08:04:00.000-08:00

I was sitting around with some buddies after the So Much Closer New Year's Eve show at Luna Lounge, just talking music and motion, women and whiskey. Typical night. One of my friends was saying how impressed he was that we pulled off 3 hours of original tunes. Being that So Much Closer is barely a year old, and we only did 3 songs from my previous bands, it is pretty cool. However, after making some humble appreciative remark, my mind was thinking three hours is nothing. If we did every song every band of mine has done, we are talking an easy 5 to 6 hours. Then the question came, "Of all the songs you have written, which is your favorite." Wow!

That question is daunting. I have probably written close to 75 songs, maybe more. I know I have 4 notebooks filled with song breakdowns and lyrics. To pick a favorite seems impossible. So, I decided what I could do is pick a favorite by album and make a blog series out of it.

Before I dive in a few caveats. I am not starting with my first recording but the first CD I sunk money into. The first CD that I bar coded and someone else did the duplication and production. That CD was Unfulfilled Desires, recorded in 1999 and released in 2000.

Yes...yes, make fun of the uber cheesy photo shoot. I was barefoot and in a sports coat. I was confused, fragmented, a Cali kid that thought to be a singer/songwriter and appeal to a more mature demographic I needed to be upscale. Remember this was 1999. There were very few singer/songwriters getting attention around St. Louis. There was one production company that was bringing in solo performers for shows out at the Viking, and the crowds were older, so I thought that was the demographic I was trying to court. I did show more of myself on the inside, however.

Shorts and a button up. If you see me play tomorrow, that is pretty much what you are gonna get. Although I wear shoes now, after an incident at Cicero's with a broken bottle on stage. OUCH!

Unfulfilled Desires was recorded by my good friends Rob Woerther. I met Rob when he was hosting an open mic at Sally T's. There was instant chemistry between us and shared musical appreciation. At the time Rob was doing a lot of home recording. He had a nice ADAT set up and good mics, so I traded him a Gibson ES-120 for some recording time, and we went to town. There is a warmth on this CD that I have never been able to duplicate. This is also the only CD I have recorded where Pro-Tools or some form a digital program was not used. It is pretty sparse. I really just wanted something clean that I could use to book shows. For the most part it is me on guitar and vocals, Rob filling in the bottom with synth bass, and we brought in Ryan Spearman to play mandolin on a couple of tracks.

As I was going through the CD, listening to each track, reliving those moments it was a struggle to pick my favorite song. Part of me gravitated to "The One" primarily because the opening line, "You could have been the one, coffee eyes and careless curls." I can instantly see my subject, and I know the lyrics were soundly inspired by Tom Waits and his magical use of everyday images as descriptors...and the sky turned the color of Pepto-Bismol. But, as I listened to the song, I realized I had no idea what I was playing, there was no way I could play that song today. How could my favorite song from a CD be one I didn't even care enough about to remember. With that concept firmly ingrained, I decided to go with my go-to song, "Railroad Affair."

For years this was the song that I would play when I couldn't think of what to play. It holds a very special place for me because of its back story, the significance of influence, and the return to simplicity that it represents. As a young songwriter that had never really learned to play guitar, my first songs were very creative because I had no idea what I was doing, just moving fingers to make new sounds. Then as I learned more everything got extremely complex...lets finger pick, arpeggiate, and flat pick all in one song, AND let's throw meter completely out the window, each song must have a verse, a chorus, and a bridge, and lets go ahead and make all three completely unrelated. "Railroad Affair" is 4 chords. The entire song is 4 chords. There is no bridge, and the chorus and verse are the exact same progression, just a different attack. Yet, it works. Also, this is also the first song I wrote where St. Louis was represented as my home. Enjoy!

Railroad Affair by S. Eric Ketzer (1999) by SoMuchCloser

Railroad Affair

Three hundred nights I sleep alone in this broken down bed
These tracks are long and winding and they end in you

I hear the whistle blowing it’s not my stop
I peer through the cabin window, and I envision you

So many days I feel I am losing time
Seduced by the land and this railroad affair

Mile high in Denver and on to the San Diego coast
I see the lights rollin’ by, and I am calling out to you

Next stop the Frisco Bay, I wander these streets beside myself
I look in every storefront in search of you

So many days I feel I am losing time
Seduced by the land and this railroad affair

Across the empty plains I see the buffalo roaming
I watch the clouds form pictures of you

As the midnight moon descends upon Rivercity
I step from train and I hold on to you
Yes I hold on to you

Unfulfilled Desires was a short run and soldout quickly. It was the first CD that gave me hope that one day this would be my life. That has yet to happen, but the hope still burns, and I still love playing "Railroad Affair."

Inside cover shot at Sally T's at one of my early shows.

Back cover, more cheese.

Top Ten of 2010

2010-12-27T16:14:00.000-08:00

Well, it is that time again, time to let you a little closer to my heart, time for you to see what has been moving me this year. Unlike last year when I allowed some external influences to shape my views, this year I am only rating CDs that I actually purchased, CDs that I took the time to load into my iPod, CDs that have spent time in the Saaby shuffle, CDs that I genuinely think are the best of 2010.

#10 So Much Closer – Felt Not Seen
I know, big shocker right? I guess the shock is either that I rated it so low or that I had the audacity to list it in the first place, being that it is my band, but bear with me for a moment. This list is about MY Top 10 albums, if Felt Not Seen didn’t make it into the list, I would be concerned. Who invests a serious amount of time and money into creating something that they think is crap. The reality is I really do love this album. It has been played more than any other CD this year, as for months we tweaked it to present a product we were proud of. Lyrically it reflects some of my best work, and sonically, outside of Lost Angel, it is the truest representation of what I hear in my head. I rated it at the very bottom because I thought any higher would be inappropriate. Highlight track, “1-2-3-4,” yes it is a 17 minute mash of two songs, and the media hates anything over 4, but when I listen to Zepplin, Allman Brothers, Hendrix...they all had tracks that expanded beyond what someone more interested in getting paid for commercials than music said was acceptable.

#9 Black Keys – Brothers
I am sure I just incensed the diehard Black Keys fans by ranking this as #9, and while it is obviously a great album, its departure from their core caused it to fall for me. I also believe I was victimized by the hype. I did not purchase this the week it came out or the month for that matter, so I sat through months of listening to people suckle Auerbach’s teat and praise Carney’s development, and while both may be warranted, to me, Brothers was not as good as Magic Potion. For those reasons I rated it at the bottom of the list. Please understand it is a great album, I just think there were albums this year that were better. Highlight track for me, “Sinister Kid,” has a great groove, the additions actually add to the overall composition, and the guitar tone is fierce.

#8 Kings of Lean – Come Around Sundown
Yes, yes, yes I am Kings of Leon Fan Boy, so what. Believe me, after the bird shit incident I was ready to write them off. Although I was actually watching Sara Bareilles that night, and it was hotter than rubber soles melting on a July concrete, I just could not image calling a show at a venue like Riverport regardless of what poop hit me, but a friend of mine took me to the make-up show, and they were amazing. Being good live means so much to me because I know that anyone can be made to sound good in the studio, but to pull it off live takes talent, and KoL has that. Come Around Sundown seems to me an extension of Only by the Night like b-sides that had the same layers and depth but lacked the sonic energy, so they were chopped from their master piece. While “Radioactive” may have been the lead single. The Highlight track for me is “The End.” The solid underbelly groove textured with atmosphere guitar expansions creates a tapestry of sound that allows the listener to sink into it.

#7 Sean Renner – Sekhmet
About 80% of you just went, “Who?” It is no secret that I see a lot of shows and fully support the local music scene in St. Louis. While we are all looking for that break, we rely on each other to continue to develop and grow as musicians and writers. I met Sean a couple of years ago while I was hosting the Open Mic at the St. Charles Coffee House. He immediately blew me away. He was unapologetically sincere. His voice was gifted from God, and I could immediately tell what a thoughtful musician he was. Sekhmet is a true work of art, recorded in the house he was living in in South St. Louis and created entirely using live instrumentation and physical effects. When listening to the CD, you cannot help but be captivated by the lush landscape of sound Sean and company create. I cannot pick a highlight because this CD is needs to be experienced using the gestalt principles. The whole is truly greater than the sum of its parts.

#6 Kate Nash – My Best Friend Is You
Kate Nash was one of those Pandora finds, and the song I heard was so moving that I immediately bought everything I could find from her. Little did I know that “Nicest Thing” was really a departure from her median style. Still, what I discovered was something completely intriguing and intoxicating. My Best Friend Is You is full of energy, wit, sass, and danger. Each song provides something instrumentally unexpected, and Kate’s voice is just so damn distinctive, it’s jarring and alluring, refined and rough…it is a complexity that I cannot fully understand, only appreciate. Lyrically she is ridiculous. She is not hiding things in metaphor, she opens her heart and dares your to look inside. Without a doubt “Mansion Song” is the highlight track for me. Completely raw and painful, intense spoken word shouted over a haunting backdrop of sound.

#5 Eminem – Recovery
Eminem is one of the controversial geniuses. You either hate him or love him, and I am part of the love camp. Besides Nas, he is definitely my favorite rapper. Lyrically he is brilliant. His timing is impeccable. His voice is distinct and immediately recognizable, and Recovery is a return to his glory days. It hits hard, is reflective and sincere, yet still features some of the Shady humor we have grown to love and expect. While “Not Afraid” was the perfect lead single, completely intense and intrapersonal, the highlight track for me is “Cinderella Man.” Within 20 seconds of it beginning, I am bobbing to the deep groove. The hook is optimistic, and Eminem’s flow is absolutely inspired.

#4 Samantha Crain – You (Understood)
I can honestly say I would have never imagined this happening, an artist, any artist, back to backing on my Top Ten list. To be able to put out back to back CDs, while touring, is so completely impressive to me. Samantha is a great writer and obviously prolific. Her voice is unique and expressive and immediately recognizable. She just standouts out. All that accounted for, what I love about this album is the instrumentation. In parts she presents a nice raw Alt-Country/Americanaesque vibe, but in other sections, she is really experimenting with tones and textures. Some of the arrangements are very complex and require multiple listens to really appreciate everything that is going on. I bounced through this CD several times trying to decide what stood out the most. They are just all so good. I ended up landing on “Holdin’ That Wheel” because it is a perfect example layers and movements bringing tension and release to a song. Plus it opens with a fantastic line, “You make wonderful patterns with your breathing when you sleep, but it’s so shallow and slight you look like you are dying.”

#3 Beth Bombara – Wish I Were You
This is my third St. Louis artist, and I am concerned that people reading may think I am biased. Of course I am to a point, but this album is good enough to be on any Top Ten list: Local, Regional, National…doesn’t matter, this is a great album. I think for those that only know me from So Much Closer my relative obsession with Alt-Country/Americana may come as a surprise. What you need to understand is it really is the sound of our region, created by Uncle Tupelo out of Belleville and carried forth by countless numbers of bands, including my last band Whiskey Daydream. The album is full of tones that I love, lots of pedal steel (my all time favorite sound, by the way), B3 filling in the perfect spaces, solid country bass and drums, just enough raunchy guitars to please the rocker in me, and Beth’s voice is another one of those that just makes you listen. Now, how/why is a relative unknown ranked so high on my list? “Lately.” In my opinion “Lately” is the best song of 2010. It is the perfect marriage of everything I love about music, tension, movement, texture, layers, all topped with resounding vocals and great lyrics. It is simplistically complex giving each instrument space to breathe, and nothing is more beautiful than breath.
Beth Bombara - Lately

#2 Sara Bareilles – Kaleidoscope Heart
If you are a frequent reader, you may remember a post I did back in July after seeing Sara Bareilles. If not, go get your read on HERE. I think if I have shown anything through this blog, my musical tastes are extremely diverse. I do not pigeonhole myself into certain genres and don’t discount music that, on the surface, is sugary. There are several tracks on Kaleidoscope Heart that seem so sugary sweet you feel like you need a dentist after listening to them, but Sara’s brilliance comes in juxtaposing catchy tunes with thoughtful and well written lyrics. “Gonna Get Over You” is a perfect example, then the next tune “Hold My Heart” will break you down, if you are not ready for it. My listening requirements follow my progression as an artist. I was a singer first, then writer, and finally a musicians, and they is really how I listen to music: Vocals, Words, Instrumentation. And there is no discounting the fact that Sara has an AMAZING voice and is a great lyricist. This disc is genuinely a great listen from beginning to end. You can pop it in, drop the top—if you are fortunate enough to own a convertible—turn ‘er up, and just go. Highlight track, “Breathe Again.”

#1 Spoon – Transference
I do not think I am eloquent enough to describe Spoon, there are not words for what they do, other than brilliant. I found them through Pandora. After the 2nd time hearing “The Beast And Dragon, Adored” I knew I had to buy CDs, little did I know that was from their 5th CD. How had I not heard of them? How did they escape me for 12 years (their first CD was released in 1996. I found them in 2008)? I snagged Gimme Fiction and Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga immediately and waited for their next burst of inspiration. My friend Josh picked Transference up for me on the day it was released. What was interesting was how our initial experience was different. Josh is like my go to for undercover music. He had probably been listening to Spoon since the very beginning, and he was only 5 then. Although he liked it, Josh felt it was a little loose. They are known for being extremely calculated, and Transference gave him the impression that they were less restrained during the recording process. On the other hand, when I put it in, I immediately knew this was going to be the best album of 2010. Transference strikes the perfect chord of simplicity and complexity. The builds are inspired, and the hidden elements make you want to listen with headphones. The bridge in “I Saw the Light” was enough to get the album on the Top Ten list, but every song has something special to it. Highlight track for me is “Who Makes Your Money.” There is just something magnificent about the perfect bass tone accented by a simple keys and drums with flourishes of ear candy throughout.

There you have it. To be honest, I cannot imagine anyone having the same list as me, and frankly that is okay. We all love music in our own way. If you are doing a list this year, please drop a comment with a link to your post so I can check it out.

As always, thanks for reading...Eric

Mommy I am Home

2010-12-23T13:44:00.000-08:00

Everyone has a home, but the word home means something different to everyone. Is it the four walls and a roof that protects you at night, the place where your parents live, maybe for you it is grandparent's because that is where you recall your first memories. For me it is none of those things. My family moved a lot as a child, so the concept of home is not slaved to a particular house rather it is a city, and it is not a city that has any association to my family, but it is the city where I became a man, where I applied all the early life lessons from my mother, where I learned that my pen had a voice and my fingers could make music, where I hung with heroes, grew into an artist with Scott Church, learned from Lizzie Wann and Chris Vannoy, became inspired by Steve Harris, where I became me. San Diego.

Every time I go home my dormant pen wants to talk to me, as if it remembers the hours spent in coffeehouses learning to paint pictures in words.

Here is a draft that came from a recent trip home, and an opportunity to see Steve Harris play with the Styletones.

Mommy I am Home

I saw her
Like I have seen her many times before
Drenched from December’s Pineapple Express
Dirty rivers rushing towards drains rarely used
Foreigners want the façade
The shiny happy people
The palm tree sunshine
The white foam glistening on a south shore break
But this is the mother I love
Soiled and authentic

Driving down 6th
Reminded of carless journeys
From Hillcrest home to Tarawa’s pier
Screaming down dimly lit street
Howling with hobos moving about the sleeping city
Wind whistling through helmet
Headlamp struggling to light path
Banging a left on Harbor
Downhill momentum through dicey areas
Smiling at mural announcing Chicano park
Passing zombies herded toward dry docks
Can still hear the slowed

Tick

Tick

Tick

As I coasted on base

Remember walking transient streets
Searching for the next collection of words
That would shape the artist
Dharma Bums next to Shampoo Planet
Gems hiding in disorganized shelves
Original copies behind glass
Clerks needing to shower and shave
Xers milling about
Discussing what the words
What the words meant to them
And I would listen
Still shy in my intellect
Still scarred from words of teachers
That didn’t understand I was high
Not stupid
Teachers more concerned
With my argumentative mouth
Than the growth of my grey matter

Remember stumbling into a used CD shack
Young black man
Heartfelt scowl and innocent eyes
Abusing an old dreadnaught
Opened his mouth
And I
Realized symbiotic relationship exists
Between beauty and pain
No shared experiences
But I felt

Every

Word

He sang

He
Like me
Left the womb
I went east
He north
To embrace activism through art
Then crossed the country to commune with Seminoles
Before finally returning to his mother’s side

And tonight I have come home too
Returned to the womb
Walked her soiled streets
And worshipped her
At the amplified alter of my brother

The Morning After

2010-11-20T07:43:00.000-08:00

I don’t want to make this too long, but I certainly feel like a blog post is required after last night. I mean, we did play the Pageant.

I think our drummer probably summed it up best in a Facebook Post:

(Please don’t ask me why he uses Jim Swinson instead of his real name)

What’s weird about huge shows like is I am often left feeling empty afterward, like there is so much build up to them: promotion, practice, anticipation, anxiety...there is 40 minutes of pure pleasure, and then you are slapped back into reality. I guess it is similar to a one night stand, except the chase takes months. When she gets up to head home, you feel kind of dirty and sad because deep down you really liked this one; you really wanted this one to hang around.

Maybe it is more like a birthday, you never really feel different the next day, but you wish you would.

So, I try to relive the moment. Through pictures…

Pat shot this from the stage on his Blackberry

This one came from my good friend Meredith aka @rockstarima

And Melissa, the awesome front woman for Peach (@peachlikethex), shot this

And when that is not enough, I go inside my mind and write. This is for all of you that made it out. Thank you, sincerely.

The Morning After

Alone
You in foreign bed my eyes have never seen
And I trapped between blanket and pillow

Dreaming

Dreaming of catching your glance
Across wood
And smoke
And bodies
You moving like serpent seductress
And I in the moment
Reveal head and heart from wicker basket

But I saw you all
You
Hiding behind the glowing hue of technology
You
With adult recess smile
Jumped from concrete to wood
Leading your followers to salvation
To freedom found in movement
You
With childlike excitement
Experienced an epiphany
One day
You would be me
You
With shy eyes
Hid in the shadows hoping to evade my gaze
But I saw you all

When lights faded
And smoke sat heavy on the floor
You baptized me in bodies
Arms
And hands
And chests
Saying what words could not

And I
Gave you everything I had
Amplified my animus so you could see the real me
So you could see just how pure I am

Welcome to My Insanity

2010-11-14T07:51:00.000-08:00

I don’t think that I have OCD, but I do think I do some very peculiar things, mental tricks, games I play inside my mind. My favorite was in college. I was obsessed with getting straight A's. Back then almost all exams were done on a scantron which required a No. 2 pencil. Like many ball players will wear lucky socks or jocks, I had lucky pencils, but they were not lucky. They had been trained in the fine art of test taking. I’d use the same pencil for every exam until it was sharpened to an unusable nub. To ensure I was always prepared, as a pencil was nearing its sad demise, during tests, I would get the next one out and set it on the desk so it could watch and learn. Yes, welcome to my insanity. For the record, I graduated Summa Cum Laude with a 4.0 on my transcript.

This morning, during a Sunday cleaning ritual, I decided to swap out my CDs. Yes I said CDs. I am old school. I like to own the disc, the liner notes, like to listen to an entire album as the artist intended. In my car a carry a CD case with about 20 CDs. I do this because it forces me to listen to CDs I wouldn’t normally. Like everyone else, I tend to have go to CDs that I will spin a laser rut into, so when I swap out CDs I take 2 from each rack of my CD case—they are alphabetized by artist; artists with multiple discs are organized chronologically. Instead of a normal swap I one-upped my insanity. This time as I hit a row and was drawn to a CD, I could take it, but the second one from the row HAD to be touching the CD I took, unless it was the same artist, then I could move to the next artist on either side. Yes, welcome to my insanity.

As a result, I have a seriously diverse lot of music in my case:

Christina Aguilera – Stripped

The Allman Brothers Band – The Fillmore Concerts

Bush – Goldenstate

Vanessa Carlton – Be Not Nobody

Death Cab for Cutie – Photo Album

Gavin DeGraw – Self Titled

Helmet – Meantime

Jimi Hendrix – Band of Gypsys

ilyAIMY – Between Lovely and Twilight

Lauryn Hill – The Miseducation of…

The Little Willies – Self Titled

Live – The Distance to Here

Bill Miller – The Red Road

Morrissey – Viva Hate

Paramore – Brand New Eyes

Brad Paisley – Time Well Wasted

Duncan Sheik – Self Titled

She Daisy – The Whole SheBANG

Spoon – Transference

Train – Self Titled

Tool – Undertow

If you follow my blips, you will see a lot of these artists over the next few weeks, as I tend to blip the artist I was listening to on the way to work.

Alright that is it for this quick one. Surely I am not the only one, so what kind of insane things do you do? Let me know in your comments.

Reflection…Understanding…Acceptance…

2010-11-06T08:07:00.000-07:00

I think we are all hardest on ourselves. We dream the great dreams and when the hopeful movies play out in scenes different from what was in our head we beat ourselves up. I am certainly prone to it, especially in relationships and with my music. Every once and a while, I am able to step back, reflect on the reality and accept the situation.

In November of 2009 my band, So Much Closer, played our first show. We removed all the furniture from my living room and recreated a high-school scene.

On November 19, 2010 my band, So Much Closer, will play, possibly, the best venue in St. Louis: The Pageant for the Ticketmaster New Music Spotlight. One could debate that the Fox or RiverportUMBVerizon Pavilion are better, but for amazing stage and sound without losing the intimacy that I love in live performance, I do not think it gets better than The Pageant. Simply put, this is an amazing accomplishment.

Sadly, until we got this gig, I was really down. I didn’t think we had done enough because I saw other bands getting invited to events that we were not because the Hipsters were not showering us with praise and PBR because we had 1 poor CD review that destroyed my soul because I am a sensitive fool.

So let me quickly recap what we have accomplished in the last 12 months so you will be able to truly appreciate what a fool I am:

November:

1st Show

December:

Opened for the Matter’s CD Release at The Library; St. Louis, MO (RIP)

January:

Continued to write and practice

February:

Headlined a show at the Firebird, St. Louis; MO

March:

Headlined a show at Cicero’s; U-City, MO

April:

Proved that we could do it acoustic at Hartford Coffee House; St. Louis, MO
Opened for Jimmy Kennedy and the Wrecking Ball; Jefferson City, MO
Headlined the Old Rock House; St. Louis, MO
Recorded a CD in Denton, TX at the Echo Lab
Played the Aardvark; Fort Worth, TX
Headlined at Bash Sip Rock; Lubbock, TX

May:

Headlined at the Ten Mile House; Affton, MO
Played Silvie’s Lounge; Chicago, IL

June:

Went acoustic again at Vivirito’s; Maplewood, MO

July:

Rocked Foam; St. Louis, MO
Acoustic Show at St. Charles Coffee House; St. Charles, MO

August:

Ten Mile House; Affton, MO where we met the awesome Rhum Boogie
Played the Luna Lounge; St. Louis, MO

September:

CD Release at the Old Rock House; St. Louis, MO
Played Silivie’s Lounge; Chicago, IL
Rocked Market in the Loop for Play:STL Festival; U-City, MO

October:

Headlined Davey’s Uptown; Kansas City, MO
Played 2720 Cherokee; St. Louis, MO
Headlined Kix; Quincy, IL

And now, now we are going to play the Pageant for our one year anniversary. I think any band would be happy to have played the shows we have, done the touring we did, and recorded a pretty amazing CD in their first year out.

So how could I possibly be disappointed, besides the fact that I am a fool?

For me, this isn’t our first year, this is my 14th year. I played my first singer/songwriter show in 1996 in a little coffeehouse in Poway, CA. I gigged consistently there before moving to St. Charles in 1998 where I continued to focus on performing, playing any venue that would have me solo until 2002 when I formed my first band, Eric Ketzer experiment. After that fizzled in 2005, Whiskey Daydream was born. It died in 2007 but soon I was focused on Pawnshop Testimonies and the Frontline. I have never really stopped.

There were 2 years between Whiskey Daydream and So Much Closer and although there were projects none of them were really going for it, so I was mainly doing solo shows with some limited touring and lots of local coffeehouses. As a result, when we were ready to do it, it was like starting over. Many of the venue contacts had changed, local Bloggers now had a significant role in the scene, there were new venues to contend with and a slew of people that were convinced that Cherokee was Babylon. I mean we have still yet to get a response from Off Broadway, and that is a venue that EKe and Whiskey Daydream owned, did my largest CD Release there, played the coveted New Year’s Eve gig there 3 years in a row, but I cannot even get a response from them. It is a different world, and I need to accept it and embrace what I know to be truth.

Here are my truths.

We have had a blast. Has it been a prefect ride free from conflict, no; but, those incidents are so minor compared to the awesome times we have spent tooling around the country with hope in our eyes.

We recorded an amazing CD. When that review came out, it destroyed me, and I started to hate the CD, all because someone I have never met didn’t like it. But a few weeks ago I put it in and rocked it for a week on the way to and from work. Top was down in the Saaby, and the CD cranked. I love everything about this disc. Do I hear what the reviewer was saying, sure. Do I agree, not really. It is my truth, and we created a great disc!

We are very happy about the direction of the scene, the community that is being built and the use of Social Media to help merge musicians and music lovers.

We are so incredibly excited about this Pageant show, and we need all of you to help us make it special. All you need to do is print this image, and it will get you into the show for free. Or you can save a tree, and show the door people the image on your smart phone. Or, if you run into one of us, just ask us for a ticket, we have 500 to give out. The show is all ages and free for those with a voucher. There is a $5 surcharge for anyone under 21.

Rain and the Gifts of Great Friends

2010-10-03T19:52:00.000-07:00

As you know, I have amazing friends. I talk about them often in this blog, as they are a significant part of my life. I am continually amazed by the people that I surround myself with: Musicians, Writers, Graphic Designers, Photographers, Chefs…you name a creative endeavor, and I probably have a friend that does it. Most of us are still rocking 9 to 5’s or 7 to 6’s (as has been the case for me lately) but we do not give up on our passion or our art. I just couldn’t image it any other way.

Recently my friend Vinnie who is an amazing producer and performer, asked me to do some spoken word for a track he had been working on with Alpha Static. I jumped at the chance, no hesitation.

Poetry is really my core. So, I am always thrilled when I get to do something that involves spoken word. This specific piece was a little unique in that Vinnie had an idea of what he wanted the subject matter to be, which meant I had to actually write something specific for the recording. I have done this in the past, but I am such a muse chaser that it doesn’t always result in my best work. I am pretty happy with the results of this, however. He picked a subject that I am pretty intimate with, and its fingers found their way into other areas of my life which don’t get talked about much.

The best part, for me, was the collaboration. I went over to Vinnie’s studio on Friday to lay down the vocal, and we ended up working the song from 7 to midnight. I was able to see Bill Smith, the other member of Alpha Static, and Vinnie work. It was so interesting to see how producers think about tracks, to see how they develop the piece. And, I loved that I was able to contribute some ideas, like adding an additional stanza after the bridge, moving the theme from remembering to dreaming, past to future. I wrote the last lines on the spot, and stole a piece from Martin Luther King Jr.’s great “I Have a Dream” speech.

So, here is the finished project. Please give it is good listen, and let us know what you think. Also, the words are below.

Rain by alphastatic

I remember when the Desert first caught fire
When we drew the line in the sand and they crossed it
My 17 year old hand
Fueled by an ideological mind
Signed dotted line
After convincing my mother to do the same
Remember the feeling of aloneness
While sleeping in a crowded berthing
The sense of fear when unexplained blips
Illuminated beneath a 15 second sweeps
The kinship I felt with my father and grandfather
Who had been in that moment
I remember the constant coverage
That would not allow me to escape
I remember when I realized I was living a lie
When pride was replaced by routine
When my right mind was silenced by my left heart
I remember when it all started again
When my right mind screamed at kamikazes
Pounded fist
Wanted revenge
And then I learned my best friend had signed the dotted line
Again

I remember when rain was pure
Before it was linked to the city beneath the sea
And failed government response
White gloves
In white offices
In White House
With white shirts
Dragging pencils though red tape lava
As blue collars and street tappers swam for safety

I remember when dreams were my mind transferring
Memories from hippocampus to long term storage
Using fissures and synapses like super highway and stop lights
Now my mind transfers your memories
And you are faceless-formless
Incessant stream of bright lights bleeps and bloops
Seven point three second sound bites
Repeated relentlessly to remind me of how fucked up I am
But you are a hypocrite
Your Clockwork Orange society threatens our freedom
But instead of spilling blood
You spill Texas Tea
Great underwater flume
Followed by a steady stream of dedicated spins
Reminding us of how much you care
My stomach sours when I see yellow and green.

I remember when my child mind smiled at simple pleasures
Chose sunshine over clacking keys
Rain over microwave media
Snow over four wall entrapment
And with the last letter
I power down
Step outside
Breathe deep
Release what you want me to remember
And embrace those moments that are authentically mine

And now my memories are replaced by dreams
And I dream the completion of Martin’s Dream
My four little children living in a world
Where they are not judged by the color of their skin
But by the content of their character
Where my picket fence is not soiled by senseless slander
Where I sleep beneath the breath of an Angel
Whose head rises and falls
With the pitch of my belly
And we are no longer afraid of white noise…

Numbness and the Act of Reciprocation

2010-09-19T09:34:00.000-07:00

There is a numbness that follows a CD release. After months of continuous work, driving, pushing, progressing this creation, you stand on stage with hands held out offering the gift to an audience that is grateful to receive it, only to realize that once you leave the stage you are in the same place you were months ago, in this case 5 months ago. I assume it is similar to a convict chipping away at cinderblock walls with handmade fork axes and spoon shovels. When you finally break through, you are confronted with the disconcerting reality that that was just an inner wall, beyond the six inch gap is another, thicker, wall reinforced with rebar.

In the past this feeling has lasted for weeks, but not this time. Tuesday, as I had settled into day 3 of Numbfest 2010, I received the best e-mail ever. Laura from Playback:STL had a cancelation for the annual Play:STL music festival, and she wanted to know if we could fill it. I believe my “Yes” reply took 37 seconds.

We submitted to play the Festival and were originally rejected. This is something I seriously struggle with, much like the recent review our CD got from the Riverfront Times. Apparently, whatever these panels and critics want, I am not giving them, but the real struggle comes when I check out bands that were selected and, to my ears, they aren’t doing anything that dramatically different or better or more interesting. It leaves me feeling confused and frustrated. I would LOVE to be a media darling, love for them to get it, to love what I am doing like I do, but in the 12 years I have been chasing this dream that has not been the case. Various projects have had a smattering of positive press, but no one has ever championed my bands or my solo efforts. The closest I came to that was with a review by Laura of Playback:STL for my 2nd CD Lost Angel.

I was grateful for that review, and I was grateful for the opportunity to fill a vacant spot for this festival. To show my appreciation, I reciprocated and made as much noise as I could about the festival. There was a steady stream of Tweets coming from me and the band feed. Really the entire band reciprocated. There wasn’t a night where one of us wasn’t participating, and on most evenings of the 4 day festival (3 days with a kickoff party) there were at least 3 of us showing our support. Mind you, we are all still putting in 40 + hours a week at our 9 to 5s, but we are rockstars, we can party until 1 and be to work by 7. When it came time to play our set, we played like we were the headliners. We gave every bit we had, made sure to pick an appropriate set length, and stripped the stage quickly to ensure we did not eat up the next band’s time. We rocked it like the pros we are.

Our friend Irene was there to watch us throw down, and she took some great shots.

¾ of So Much Closer

Ghosts of Midnight you take me down…

PE doing his closed eyes thing…

Two Tweeds and some Fiji...

Swan feeling it…

Now, where I may fail with critics and panel participants, I do extremely well with club owners. The Booking Agent from Market Pub House was eager to get our contact information to schedule a repeat performance. He shoots…he scores. Ultimately, as much as I want to be adored by Music Critics what is most important to me is remaining authentic.

I don't work for anybody but the muse -- Neil Young

This act of reciprocation is something very important to me. It is something I have practiced since I started performing. Musical communities are built on this concept. If you are in a band and have an off night, go see the bands that you dig. In turn, hopefully, they will do the same for you. If a venue is supporting you, support it. Get people to go there, spend time up there yourself. Recently we have played a few shows with Rhum Boogie, and they get this concept. When they had a show at 2720, we were there. When we had our CD release, they were there. There were even members of the Boogie at our Play:STL set, mutual respect turned to friendship and we ended up kickin’ it with Ryan all night long. So, when it came time for us to book a show for 2720, what was the first band I contacted, Rhum Boogie. So, put October 8th on your calendar because it is going to be A…wait for it…MAZING!!!

Bad Blogger Turns Good...

2010-09-05T09:45:00.000-07:00

I have been a bad Blogger. Can I even say I am a Blogger, if I have not blogged since July? I have just been overwhelmed. Between work, playing shows, and preparing for the CD release it seems that my motivation to do anything else is nonexistent. Right now I should probably be sending follow-up e-mails to all the media outlets that we sent the CD to, but I just need to take a step back, breathe, reconnect and give y'all a little recap.

Between July and now, we played some shows, of course. More importantly we met a super cool band, Rhum Boogie, a band that we genuinely respect and appreciate.

Throughout my career, I have always had “go to bands,” bands that you reach out to when trying to put a show together, bands that you go see when you do not have a show, bands that reciprocate and come see you. It has been harder with So Much Closer because we are not as niched. With early EKe it was Dark Water. Later versions of EKe were often paired with the Big Thumb or Madahoochi. But that was easy, we were “labeled” as a Jam Band, so we played with Jam Bands. The same was true for Whiskey Daydream, we were definitively Alt-Country/Americana, and as a result we played with bands like the Fishpaws, the Gaslights, and Backyard Tire Fire.

With So Much Closer, I do not think people know where we fit. Heck, we don’t know where we fit. I mean it is a culmination of all our experiences, so there are elements of Jam, Alt-Country…Patrick Swan was in a popular Indie band, Circus Window, so that shows up. Patrick Enright is Math Rock influenced, as a result there is a headiness to the Rhythm section, and Chris Logan is totally driven by the melodic groove, so no matter how down-tempo and sparse a song may be, there is always a solid drive, a solid groove. Rhum Boogie is very similar in that they are drawing from an amalgam of influences. On their Facebook page they list: Reggae, Rock, Proggresive. We list: Indie, Groove, Rock. So while we are not identical bands, we share an understanding of musical exploration and creation that somehow seems to make shows work together. We have played twice already and we are thinking of big things to come.

As you will hopefully remember, partial funding of our CD was done through our Pledge Music Campaign. Pledgers received some form of reward for donating to the cause, could be name in the CD, signed CDs, etc. ALL, Pledgers got early releases of the disc. We have received some really great feedback from the Pledgers. While most would focus on feedback from Media, I wanted to share feedback from my Dad. I mean he has EVERYTHING I have ever recorded, every solo CD, EKe, Whiskey Daydream, spoken word...everything. Over two e-mails, here is what he had to say.

1st E-mail

Hi Eric,

Well, I finished working on my truck, so I was able to listen to your CD at least four times. I think it's the best thing you've ever done. Of course, I always say that, but it's true as you keep getting better. It was just very well done and professional (professional in its positive sense). All the songs were good, so it's hard to pick a favorite. I did like the Tiger and Daisy, though, and the duet. That was one soulful chick. Lyrics were good, subtle for the most part. The CD art was most professional looking...Vicki commented on that, as well. I hope it's getting some air time and lands you and the band some larger, money making gigs. Congrats!

Love, Dad

2nd E-mail

Yep, good CD. I don't see how you can sing a song like "Scared of Your Love" that's so emotional and pretty. I'd get all choked up, wouldn't be able to get through it. That transition to Taps was really cool. I've never heard anything like that before on an album. I missed it the first time. I thought the CD was over. I should have known, as you have a habit of sneaking things in at the end. The last few times I listened I really cranked it up and it worked much better. Kind of like Lesile West and his, "Made loud to be played loud." And I really liked the 1-2-3-4 that preceded it, or is part of it, but then I always enjoyed that hard driving stuff.

Rather than dropping a new poem, I wanted to focus on a song from the CD, “Scared of Your Love.” My dad referenced it, my mom and sister have been telling me it is the best song I have written since they heard me play it acoustic a couple Christmases ago, and through the beauty of Twitter we learned:

To satisfy everyone, I have created a Soundclick page and will be adding a new song from the CD everyday leading up to our release this Friday, September 10th. "Scared of Your Love" was recorded as a duet with my friend Tiffany Belle whom I was in choir with in Palm Desert, CA--Kick Aztec!--but is currently living in Denton where we recorded.

Now playing: So Much Closer

I also wanted to share the lyrics with you. Lyrically, I do think it is some of the strongest stuff I have written.

Scared of Your Love

Verse 1
I’m scared of your love; diamond eye shine when I walk in to the room
I’m scared of your love; your smiles like a gift only give to me
I’m scared of your love; the words you whisper when we turn the lights down low
I’m scared of your love; you make the storm stop bring me calm midnight

Verse 2
I’m scared of your love; and the me I am when I am wrapped around you
I’m scared of your love; the way I quiver when I open up your smile
I’m scared of your love; the short breathes that only you can bring me
I’m scared of your love; the calm of night when everything’s alright

Chorus
Powerful fears
The one who’d been burned
So many tears
Oh and lessons learned
But I’ll keep tryin’
I’ll keep tryin’ for you baby

Verse 3
I’m scared of your love; you’re gonna leave me empty room and all that white noise
I’m scared of your love; the sense of solitude when we lie in the same bed
I’m scared of your love; silent conversations between disappointed eyes
I’m scared of your love; visions of you crying good-bye to me

Chorus
Powerful fears
The one who’d been burned
So many tears
Oh and lessons learned
But I’ll keep tryin’
I’ll keep tryin’ for you baby

Hope you are enjoying what you are hearing, we'd love any feedback you care to share on the tunes, and would really like to see you all at the CD release party this Friday:

Always on My Mind...

2010-07-25T08:44:00.000-07:00

I am not totally sure why my mom seems to be so present in my thoughts lately, maybe it is because she recently joined Twitter (you should totally follow her…I mean she is my momma @dellinek) and as a result we have another touch point, another space where we can attempt to connect from 6 states of separation. However, no matter how much I enjoy Twitter, I cannot give it that much credit. Maybe it is that she moved back to California, and for the first time in years she sounds happy. I hear it when we talk on the phone. I see it in her posts on Facebook. She is genuinely happy. And while I am sure that is a contributor, there is more. It’s music. It is always music, and like I am music, my mom is music.

Last night I was at Celebrate St. Louis' final concert event for the summer which featured Silversun Pickups. Honestly, these events are probably one of the coolest things about this city. They are completely free to the public and usually feature local artists opening for touring bands. Sure people can complain about the VIP section, the inability to bring in coolers and such, but THEY ARE FREE!!! And it is a totally pro-setup put on expertly by the fantastic people at Entertainment St. Louis. While there I saw several families with young children, instant flashback to Taste of Chicago and hundreds of other random events that my mom took me to as a child. I credit those moments being seared onto my tiny kid brain for the fact that I am most me when I am on stage with a guitar in my hands belting out something that is so powerful to me that I am impelled to share it with you. My completeness is not determined by a job, car, house, some material possession…I am me when I am in a band and we are trying to live the dream. I believe those in my inner circle would attest that there was a different Eric between 2007 when Whiskey Daydream broke up and 2009 when So Much Closer formed. Whether that is good or bad is debatable, but it is, and I can thank my mom for it.

I didn’t want to get out of this blog without mentioning where I was Friday. Yeah, you guessed it, Celebrate St. Louis enjoying Sara Bareilles. I do not go to these events as much as I should because for all my love of music, I do not love chaos and can get weirded out in large gatherings of people, but I could not miss Sara. I think like most I was introduced to her via “Love Song,” sure it is poppy and catchy and worthy of VH1 rotation, but I would have never bought a CD based on that song. Then I saw a small piece of amazing Mia Michaels choreography performed to “Gravity,” and it moved me in places that I thought had been dead for years.

I sought her out the next day and have been a huge fan ever since. As a musician and songwriter I have always struggled to connect with critics. I do not know what they want from me, why some bands get praise when my projects are largely ignored, but I have come to the conclusion that all I can do is remain authentic to myself, to create music that I want to hear, and I want to hear music that moves me: “Gravity,” without all the flash and movement, just stripped and every bit as powerful.

You know I couldn’t close without a poem, so here you go. Mom, this is for you. I love you.

Laughter as Sunshine

I wish I could cut the continent in half and be there for you
You whose voice quivers when upset
You try to hide it
I hear it across cellular waves sharing a satellite to bring us closer
That little girl fear of uncertainty
Exhausted and depleted
Yet somehow able to choke down the tears
And I with my special gift to make you laugh
Try harder
Hoping to hear your smile across miles of atmosphere
When you laugh
Gregarious
Uncontrollable
Bladder breaking
The entire world is sunshine
And I bathe in it

Birthday Week

2010-07-18T14:37:00.000-07:00

Birthday Week is kind of the new “In” thing. At this point we have all become so self absorbed and egocentric that one day is not enough, damn it we need a full week to really bathe in narcissism as we celebrate being born into this chaos we call life. Well, I was hipster before hipster was cool (and I have the beard photos to prove it), so of course I had to do the “In” thing, and I had one hell of a Birthday Week.

Now, in my defense, I have been playing on or near my birthday since 2003, so back in May I set up a show at the St. Charles Coffee House for the 17th, two days after my birthday so it would serve as the birthday show. As fate would have it we got booked at the Library on the 10th (which ended up closing down, so we actually played Foam on the 10th, but that is a different subject all together) and instantly I had bookends to an actual Birthday Week.

The show at Foam was just an amazing release. So Much Closer hadn’t played electric in St. Louis since May 15th, so we were all very excited. I think the let down of moving from a large venue to a tiny one, made it that much more intense, like we had something to prove. Here is a clip from that night:

After the show we hung out at the Luna Lounge with a huge gaggle of people from Twitter who had come out to support us. That ended up being an extremely late night, as we ventured over to Uncle Bills for some late night eats.

Sunday was relatively chill, no practice, since we just played…I am sure there was TV and Laundry, but outside of that I cannot recall what I did.

Monday was back to work, just another day, but when Tuesday came along things got birthdayrific. First gifts of Chocolate Chip & Jalapeno cookies and a cool Spicy Cookbook from Jennifer Loughman showed up at my office, brought by her Carrier pigeon, aka JT her boyfriend who works with me.

A couple hours later, brownies from Meredith arrive, and they were to die for.

Before I get too deep into this, I should point out that I only had one piece of any of the deserts that were brought to me. I felt it was my obligation to at least taste them, since they were made for me, but taking down boxes of cookies, brownies, cakes, and the likes is not really part of my workout regimen.

Wednesday, and it is time for the boss to show me some love, so she took me out for lunch and then got my ALL TIME FAVORITE cheesecake: Hank’s Keylime. I am not going to lie, I did have 1 piece at work and took 1 home, but it is my all time favorite.

Thursday I took the day off and went to Six Flags with 5 of my closest friends, nothing like acting 18 on your 36th birthday. We capped off a day of riding roller coasters in the sweltering heat with some decent Mexican food, and then I headed home for an evening of movies. First the Waterboy because it is a classic and I love it, and then Vicky Cristina Barcelona. Juan Antonio is my new hero.

Friday was back to the grind which is surprisingly easy to do when you know you are only 9 to 10 hours away from a weekend. Plus my team took care of me. Yes another cake. This one was an amazing strawberry white cake thing from Helfer's. I had never heard of that place before, but that icing was so good I wanted to do things to it that would have me blushing if anyone entered into my office.

After work, I had a lot to do to prepare for the after party the following night. I made my Cajun pasta, some spicy hummus, and a cheese tray which took me until 11 when I decided to become 1 with my pillow.

Saturday day involved a pretty serious house cleaning session, car washing, and eating cereal while some dude fixed my garage door, and then finally we got to throw down at the St. Charles Coffee House. Our friends My Molly opened up for us with an inspiring performance, and then we tore into a blistering acoustic set. My favorite quote from the night came from my friend Julie Saletto:

“Had a great time at the show tonight, Vin and I keep discussing how touching and powerful it was!”

That is all I could hope for from any performance.

Afterwards I invited anyone that was at the venue back to my house (Yeah, that is how I roll). We had about 20 take us up on the offer, which made for a pretty fantastic end to my birthday week. I am not even sure what I said, but Meredith seemed to enjoy it:

“I just laughed so hard it hurts. @ketzermusic is a funny funny man.”

I also got to open 3 more gifts, 3 gifts that would become my favorites. Huge thanks to my Mom, Stephanie, and Julie. PLUS, yes you guessed it, one more cake. This one from Mary who is part of my morning workout crew, and her cake was probably the most sinful. I guess that is why we workout. This chocolate bundt cake is too amazing to photograph, someone may lose their soul. However, I am looking for people to help me eat it, so come on over.

All this birthday talk got me thinking about who I am, and who I was. I am not unhappy with who I have become, but there are definitely times when I miss the little guy inside.

Kool-Aid-Stained-Lip Smile

I still remember him
Tiny fingers and floppy hair
Energy eyes and sweet spirit
He hides within
Drinks with two unsteady hands on cup
Exclaims AHHHH! after each refreshing gulp
Smiles his Kool-Aid-stained-lip smile
But now some thirteen thousand one hundred and forty days old
He is less boy and more man
Tired fingers and failing hair
Exhausted eyes and sarcastic spirit
He hides within
Drinks in time-saving chugs
Releases empty cup with no acknowledgment of satisfaction
Still smiles his Kool-Aid-stained-lip smile
Some things never change

Solace on the Stairs

2010-07-04T08:32:00.000-07:00

I am a muse chaser. The faithful readers know this about me. I can craft, and I believe I have displayed some of that here using third party inspiration to write, but that is not really what it is about for me. I am not really writing to create the perfect poem or song. I am writing to release the headwords that skate the fissures of my grey matter, stealing focus, impelling me to put pen to paper. I assume there are tons of writers that write for the very same reason. Today I want to take you a little deeper into my process, to an area where I may reveal a little uniqueness.

I believe most writers begin as readers. I was never a reader, although, at this point, I have read a lot, but I still do not consider myself a reader. While I appreciate reading novels and short stories, I’d much rather hear poetry read than read it. I think for them, the readers, the magic moments happen with there is blank paper in front of them, or they are staring at the eerie glow of a Word page begging them to waltz with the flashing cursor. But that is not my process.

I hear the words.

We are not talking schizophrenia, just when the muse arrives it is an auditory process, which is why so much of my writing comes when driving, open road, external conversations silenced, left alone with the pureness of my thoughts, and my thoughts speak in poetic devices. They craft themselves in metered moments that sound good in my head, and in these moments sound is every bit as important as meaning. The problem is when the driving stops or the world catches up to my thoughts, they can go mute, and then I am left unfulfilled. This was last night for me.

I never really know which Eric is going to show up (I realize we are sounding schizophrenic again, and that fact that I used we makes it even worse) to an event. #WittyEric is quick, sarcastic, and hilarious. That’s really who I hope comes, but sometimes it is #QuietEric. Now there are usually some contributing factors to #QuietEric, and most of them deal with the level of activation forced on the cerebral cortex. Of course I am referring to a Hans Eysencks theory on personality which basically states that introverts are stimulus shy because they have extremely active cerebral cortexes, so they shy away from additional stimulus. Needless to say when I walked into a party 50 deep with people I really didn’t know, shy boy showed up and ran to seek solace on the stairs overlooking the outside gathering. There were others within arm’s length and I could engage in a number of conversations, but I was able to secure a spot for me, my Fiji water, and my crab shell. As the night progressed and the crowd disbursed the crab shell came off, and I was able to engage. I transitioned from #QuietEric to #ObserverEric which is one of my favorite me’s, engaging when relevant but content to listen and observe. The unfortunate part is of the 50 in the house, I may have known 20 of them from my SM life, and I would have genuinely enjoyed getting to know them beyond Tweets and Status updates. I suppose we will save that for another time.

On the drive home, these words guided me safely, keeping my mind awake at 2:30am.

And You

With sunshine smile and witty words

And I

With crab armor and silent tongue

At this point, I was game on. I was gonna shusshhh sleep and write me some poetry. The first thing I did was attack the words my head heard:

And You

With hopeful smile and witty words

And I

With crab armor and tight tongue

I liked the alliteration so much at the end of the 2nd line, that I wanted to end the 4^th line with alliteration as well. I could not come up with a good “C” for shell, so I decided to bail “sunshine smile” in favor of “hopeful smile,” which made it pair better with crab armor. Then I started pushing and screwed myself.

Danced in different directions

Your Lines

Eloquent

Fluid

Graceful

My Lines

Hesitant

Introverted

Juvenile

And through the movements I thought of you

The “Eloquent, Fluid, Graceful” came out so naturally, easily, and I loved that it was alphabetical. That is when the OCD kicked in and the mighty mind silenced the head words. I became obsessed with continuing the alphabetical adjectives, and J…well J is a beast. It literally took me an hour to come up with “Juvenile.” At that point, the Muse had already moved on to her next victim, inspiration was replaced by exhaustion, and I was left unfulfilled.

Since I couldn't finish a poem for you, I decided to do a quick video. I felt you deserved something for reading my little diatribe. This is me reciting "Forget" which you may remember from a few weeks ago. Is this how you heard it in your head?

Grateful…

2010-06-27T09:49:00.000-07:00

We have moved on to the second phase of CD creation. The music part is easy, labor intensive and time consuming for sure, but we are musicians. It is what we do. CD production, on the other hand, different beast. The process moves from auditory to visual, and that is just not my strength. It is these moments that I realize how truly fortunate I am to have an amazing supporting cast, and they are all more than willing to help us.

Yesterday I contacted Scott Church to see if we could use one of his photos for the cover. In true SM fashion I reached out via Twitter. Here is his response:

To put this into context, Scott is famous. Dude travels all over the word conducting Photography Workshops, his art is hung in amazing galleries, he has 5 or 6 books to his credit, and photography is how he makes a living. He could have easily said no or charged me an exorbitant fee to use an image or lifted a fine art nose and not even responded, but this is the same Scott that was in the Gulf with me onboard the U.S.S. Tarawa, the same Scott that took me to my first coffeehouse and was there to support me the first time I did a poetry reading, the same Scott that gave me my first Kerouac.

But it doesn’t stop there…Corey Woodruff, former bandmate of mine and up-and-coming photographer. When we needed band photos, Corey stepped in, planned the shoot, and captured some amazing moments.

We certainly cannot forget Stephanie Tolle. Not only did she create our first logo and all of the images for our tour posters, she has also taken the best videos of the band and shot the coolest live images of us:

You’d think I would be done at this point, but NO! Enright’s girlfriend, Amanda is constantly helping us create fun and fresh handbills.

And it would be impossible to forget Nathan Hutchison who did the layout and design for my last 4 CDs.

Moments like these make me realize how truly fortunate I am.

Although I am not skilled in the visual arts, I am hopeful I can still make you see things, enjoy:

waking with manufactured images
creating a water ballet in grey matter

merging ancient images with modern stills
forming the movie that greeted cognition with smiles

embracing the sensation of you in my chest
breathing in unison as it was meant to be

Forget

2010-06-05T08:19:00.000-07:00

I wrote last night. After some bar hopping and too many cocktails my newly sober mind was awake on the top down drive from downtown St. Louis to my little oasis in the Pete. For those that follow my blog (sincerely thank you if you do, ya’ll don’t comment much, but I watch my numbers, and as they increase it makes me feel like I am connecting with people, even if you choose to remain faceless) I am hoping that you can see a difference in the writing.

For the past several weeks my inspiration well has been dry and the muse was off seducing some other simple minded fool, eyes all glistening from sap and perceived love. In the desire to continually create, I have been borrowing inspiration and compelling the words to come out and play. Not last night, last night she was with me, fingers through hair, softly whispered lies of love. She impelled the words, made them keep me up until 3:00 when I could embrace the final line. She is a flirt, a whore, and as unfaithful as a barnyard bitch, but I love when she visits me.

I sincerely hope you enjoy:

Forget

Shot out of city like prisoner escaping pen
40/64 on-ramp final barbed fence before freedom
And freedom snake slithers above intoxicated dreams dripping from drunken lips
Inebriated breakups and breaking bottles now faint…distant
Delicate sounds embrace my mind
And all I want is to feel wind dry my body damp from thick air
And Summer’s sunshine kiss
All I want is to forget
The night
The day
The week
The Green Dragon sparring with the Captain
The moments between when I fell in love with you
And when I realized you would never love me
The time spent in dreams of your head on my belly
Its rise and fall closing tired eyes
My fingers found in soft strands hiding your nape
Its tender presence reserved for candlelight and whispered wants
But I can’t take my mind off of you

Before I close out, I have to mention the Pledge drive one more time. We are SO close, 70% of the way there, but we are running out of time. We only have 11 days to hit that mark or it was all for not. So please take a moment to pledge if you have not. Remember, you are not just giving us money, you are getting something for each level you pledge, whether you are just pre-ordering a CD (or multiple CDs, they will make awesome stocking stuffers, birthday gifts, anniversary presents...okay maybe not anniversary presents, but...) or signing up to roadtrip with the band, introduce us at a show, have us play at your house, etc. Also, there are TONS of exclusives that have been posted to the Pledge site, 22 updates total with 10 videos, 2 photos, 4 tracks, and lots of lyrics. AND, once we hit our target 25% of everything we raise goes to the American Cancer Society. So help us complete this awesome CD and give back to a great organization.

Kimbo Does Modern Dance

2010-05-22T04:25:00.000-07:00

This post needs to be prefaced with I have been sick all week, which means my sleeping patterns are jacked, I am not getting full R.E.M. sleep because I keep being woken up by my inability to breathe, and this weekend I am watching my roommates dogs which further complicates the sleeping arrangements, as they prefer to sleep wherever the humans are, ergo my bed...but wait that is not comfortable, let me jump down and chill on the floor, no wait maybe if I go back up he'll forget I was just up there and pet me, wait was that a sound...is my real master home, let me sniff under this door, loudly, for about 15 minutes to see if I can smell Jeff. This cyclical movement continued for a good 2 hours, until finally both dogs were in bed with me, Jazz at my feet and Blu laying like we were an item.

Around 3:27 my eyes cracked open, not sure if it was the inability to breathe or the need to release the 8 glasses of water a day, but I had these vivid images sitting on my occipital lobe, well I assume that is where they were, possibly in transition from the suprachiasmatic nucleus, who knows. The point is I was dreaming. I have been blessed with rock like sleeping patterns (and a fair amount of sleep deprivation), so I rarely remember my dreams. However, this was right there and lucid. The room was this poorly lit dance studio I remember from Lindenwood, the dancers were three faceless females and Kimbo Slice, yeah like UFC fighter, backyard brawler, Kimbo. They were working on a piece that was choreographed to poem I was reading. I kept finishing the poem before the movement was done, so I was trying to explain to Kimbo that he was like the kick drum, and I should be following him, not him trying to follow me. That's about the moment when consciousness kicked in.

Alright for this weeks poetry the assignment came from another The Absinthe Road post. We were to create something based on a song or instrument or something musical that inspires us, so I took a line from my favorite song, 3am by Edwin McCain and I went with it.

I'm awake and my heart is still dreaming

And my heart
My heart dreams two dreams
One
Great id inspired fantasy
Packed amphitheater
Sweat stings eyes
Blurs vision
Blue wash on stage
As floods hit sea of bodies
Bonded by movement and moment
Final chord strummed
And picks passed out to faint declarations of love
Then shuffled off to buses with waiting engines
For a night of road hum and restless sleep
Eyes opened to Groundhog Day
Another venue
Another adoring audience
Another moment of Self-Actualization
Two
You
You who wakes me with Eskimo kisses and sticky fingers
Whose “Daddy” I could distinguish in a ocean of voices
You who looks like your mother but has my intense eyes
You who sings before conversational skills have been achieved
And dances with complete freedom at the slightest sound of music
Crawls into my chair wanting nothing more than to be beside me
Begs for stories before bed
Fighting sleep to hear me do the Queen’s voice
Your giggles rock you to sleep
Tucked in I return to my big boy bed
Kiss your mother sweetly
Seek peace behind God given veils
Eyes open to Groundhog Day
Eskimo kisses
Sticky Fingers
“Daddy it’s time to play”

Hope everyone had a great week...

Balance...

2010-05-15T07:51:00.000-07:00

Realistically I would write everyday if I had the time and inspiration, but I don't so I don't. And even though I am always incredibly busy, it is really the inspiration that is holding me back. As a young poet, my mind was clear and starving. Now a thought has to complete an obstacle course of commitments, responsibilities, and what if's before it can even become a seed. Luckily for me, and you, since you are reading this, I have The Absinthe Road. As long as Karen is providing sparks, I should be able to ignite and produce some poetry for you. I just need that push, that word that will get my mind moving in a non-life direction. That being said, if anyone reading this would like me to write on a specific subject or based on a word or phrase or wants to "inspire" me, please leave comment suggestions. I am happy to attempt. I am not saying these pushed poems will always be the best, but at least they are something. Which brings me to:

Balance

He
swings from ape branches
thick hands
expanded chest
grunts orders
booming voice
cold eyes
provides fear and security

hE
floats through forest
light feet
haloed head
sings salutations
hushed phrases
soft smiles
brings comfort and closeness

HE
offers order to chaos
hands and chest
denote dominance
while sweet word and smile
signify seduction
masculine
feminine

This concept of balance is something very meaningful to me because I feel like it is how I live me life, choir boy with football pads. It seems that I have always lived in multiple worlds, both skater and jock, partier and nerd, but even more intensely than the cliques we filter through to touch various portions of our soul, as a man in 2010 life is pure confusion.

There is a Grimm fairytale called Iron Hans which Robert Bly later used as inspiration for Iron John: A Book About Men. Essentially, everyday we grow farther away from our nature. It is as if we are in a continual state of cognitive dissonance because our real and ideal are always in conflict, always using the silver tongue of seduction to submit when our animal brains are kicking in a sympathetic nervous systems which is telling us to fight. We swallow rage for a soft tongue and smile.

So, you are going to become sick of seeing this, but until the end of the Pledge or we hit our goal, it is going to be on every post. It is just that important to my band, So Much Closer. Remember, once we hit our goal 25% of everything we raise goes to the American Cancer Society.

Also, for those that do not know, our drummer, Patrick Enright, has offered to Karaoke any song and do any dance for people that pledge. We video them and put them on YouTube for the world to see. Here is PE doing "Never Gonna Give You Up."

Unhook the Stars

2010-05-09T09:36:00.000-07:00

Life is chaos.

I think that pretty much sums up the last couple of months for me and provides an explanation of why I have neglected you. As you know my band, So Much Closer, went down to Denton, TX to do some recording and play a few shows. We were able to capture 9 tunes at the Echo Lab and are now in post production: final mixes, mastering, CD art, researching duplication, etc. Just when I thought things would settle down a bit from all the focus on making the trip happen, things just got busier.

Still, on today, off all days, I thought it was important to write. Those that know me know I was raised by my mom, and as a result I am, well, a momma's boy. I do not see this as a negative. I embrace it, that sensitive heart on sleeve mentality is what made me who I am, is responsible for the eyes that see the world in a way that allows me to paint pictures in words. Although the skill set may have come from my father who is a poet, the eyes are all my mother's. Mom, if you are reading, sincerely, thank you for everything, and Happy Mother's Day.

You know, I have been very fortunate to surround myself with extremely inspiring people. I know writers, photographers, dancers, musicians, painters, heck one of my newest friends even makes quilts. I think creativity attracts creativity. Well, one of my old friends, high-school friends, Karen, recently started a new blog called The Absinthe Road. This blog is dedicated to forcing creation, and for your poem today, I took the bait. What is interesting about this method of writing, forced subject writing, is it often reveals things that I am not conscious of. Although I call myself a momma's boy and try to embrace sensitivity, the reality is he had his ass kicked by life and love and divorce and unfulfilled desires and lack of vindication and.... It is just so incredibly hard to chase a dream your entire life and never catch it. Inevitably, over the years, I have hardened.

Unhook the Stars

I remember when I lived heart on edge
Exposed
Like infant taking bath for first time
Redfaced
As mothers and mother’s mothers smiled
Whispered words of comfort to calm frightened cries

Now heart is locked away
Deep beneath battle scars from wars lost
The stars it once danced with at midnight
Trapped and tangled
Heavy heart’s gravitational pull
Creating black hole of sadness and solitude

I want to unhook the stars
Release them to join midnight moon
Sparkling down upon bare chest in movement
No longer afraid
No longer red faced and crying
Once again alive

Now, I don't want you to think I am depressed or anything, I am not. I didn't even realize I was feeling these things until I put pen to paper. It is therapy. But I do miss him, the momma's boy.

Before I get out of here, I would be remiss if I did not mention our Pledge Music efforts. For those that do not know making a CD is really expensive. Having done 3 solo, 2 with EKe, and 1 with Whiskey Daydream, I can tell you every time it causes debt. I moved into my house in 2001, and I have wanted to replace the carpet every year I have lived here, and every year I push it back because I am paying off a CD. This time we are trying to be smart about it. Rather than pawn guitars, sell amps, and load up the credit card, we are offering all of our supporters an opportunity to help us. There are several levels you can donate at from $10, which gets you access to all the exclusive content we are posting on the Pledge site (videos, rough mixes of songs, etc.) and a digital download of the CD when it is done, to $600 which gets access to exclusive content, a signed copy of the CD when it is done AND a fully electric house concert anywhere in the continental US. Yes, we will actually drive to your house and put on a show for you and as many people as you want to invite...wedding, graduation party, reception of some sort...whatever the event, we'll play it for $600. We actually have a song that we have left untitled, and we will let you name it for $300. Seriously, there are a lot of opportunities to fit every budget. Please take a moment to check out our pledge site.

That is all I have for now. I sincerely hope all the Mother's are feeling appreciated and loved because you are!

Poetry in Response...

2010-03-21T08:04:00.000-07:00

In past blogs we have talked about the muse, my muse, and how she guides my pen. Through the years, I have learned to force her participation as sometimes she gets distracted and forgets that I still need to write. One of the tools I developed is called poetry in response. It is based on the concept of a Renga which is a series of Haiku between 2 writers, except “In Response” I do not force a form. When MySpace was the thriving center of Social Networking life, I created a group called Poetry in Response and we would do this dance with strangers. It was beautiful. However, the dance is always better with someone that knows how to move.

My friend Caroline and I go way back, met while I was home from A-School before I was shipped overseas, Became pen pals painting pictures of the life that neither could see. As should be expected, crushes grew and then dissipated when life provided new direction, only to be actualized some 15 years later and then smashed by separation, she in California and I in Misery. Still, we are bound by words, and that is something we will always share.

Caroline getting ready to watch me play and write of course:

Recently Caroline has been dealing with some things, so she stripped down and put it on paper. Since I have been feeling the need to write, I took her words as inspiration and wrote a response. With Poetry in Response it is important to understand that it does not have to be a literal continuance of the plot line. It may be a phrase, a word; could be anything from one poem inspiring the other.

Here is her piece:

The strange split
of the man
with two faces:
one turned towards
me
love absolute
unquestioned --
and the other
turned away
my existence
unknown:
so shameful
it is unknowable
until I
become two --
the believer:
gazing upon
all that I want
and the realist:
seeing all
that I cannot have...

And my response:

And I know my two faces
One:
stoic
chiseled
as if formed from marble of ancestors living in a different reality.
He stood silent
dry eyed
at the news of last grandma’s passing
shrugs shoulders at death
as if his understanding of life cycles is too advanced for tears.
The other:
his mother’s son
with wet cheeks and glassy eyes
shutters every time a fictional character learns of love
as if the surprise of love is so overwhelming emotions cannot be controlled.
The same self
stoic self
regains composure with knowledge of negative news
as if pain is expected.

Tracing Fissures

2010-02-14T09:26:00.000-08:00

In my line of work, I have the opportunity to meet a lot of cool people. Some are just SM acquaintances that I follow because they have interesting things to say, but others I will actually get to physically meet, like Rachel and Chris. They are my absolute favorite couple. I love reading their Tweets and Rachel's blog because they give me hope. Their relationship is a shining example of what all marriages should be and what I dream of having, again. When I was in Birmingham last October, we made it a point to meet-up, and I absolutely loved being able to witness love they have for each other.

This week, I was able to connect with a fellow writer, Rebecca, who was kind enough to share some of her work with me. This is often a hazardous situation because you never really know what you are going to get. Most of the time, sadly, writers are not as good as they think they are, and they are looking to me for validation. Not wanting to destroy anyone's dreams, I'll respond with comments like, "Oh, that was nice" or "interesting." But Rebecca is getting her Master's in Writing, so I figured the risk was worth the reward, and it was. What she sent me were these amazing vignettes of Creative Non-Fiction. I was entranced, hanging on each word in anticipation of the next. It left me wanting more and my mind dreaming its deep poet dream.

What Rebecca is great at, like my friend Rob Woerther, is painting her past. I was able to share those moments with her, see them, hear them, smell them, feel them. This is an area that I struggle with. I always write in the now or in dreams of what I want my now to be, but I want to write my past, want to celebrate the parents that helped me become the man that I am today, the friends, the lovers who have left their stamps on my personality.

Heading home from a Valentine's Day Sucks party at Vinnie and Julie's, these words started building. When I got home I jotted down some themes on my phone and then I flushed them out this morning. The title comes from my process. Unlike my dad who is a great Crafter or words, I trace the fissures, meaning where I start I may not end, but rather than fight the words to stay within the lines, ensure the trees are brown trunked and green leaved, I let them be what they are because what I love about my poetry is it is the purest look into my mind.

Tracing Fissures

Memory
Fragmented
More auditory than visual
My father’s lecture tone like verbal Tia Chi
Slow
Calm
Powerful
And with furrowed brow and eyes tracking left
Trying to scrape sounds out of parietal lobe fissures
I am exhausted
I cannot hear his laughter
My mother’s laughter like sunshine breaking through morning fog
The first thing I hear when I think of her
Followed by the way she ends judgment with “well”
Slight pitch elevation towards the end
Spoken ellipses
There is more
She doesn’t say it
The moment left unresolved
Tell me I made a bad decision
Tell me my actions are unhealthy
Tell me I am screwing up my life
Tell me how to be a better person
Just pass the final judgment
Because when I am left to judge myself
I am a murderer
Able to look past any redeeming quality I may have
Find myself in the pit
Deliver blows like Spartacus delivered to the dregs of society as he fought to save her
And I remember the tongues of lost lovers
The way one phrase
With varied inflection
Could mean 4 things
And in the larval stage
The months spent cocooned by sheets
Between interruptions of hot kisses and fingernails in flesh
I would try to learn these tonal differences
Like learning a new dialect
Each one adorning me with a new name
A bitch marking her territory
As if the one my mother had provided for me was not good enough
Sometimes many names
With each one comes a new set of meanings
Sweetie far different than Baby
Sweetie reserved for tender moments like Valentine’s Day morning
When the sacrificial Teddy Bear has been delivered

“Oh, thank you sweetie”

But he is not allowed in bed when aromatics are flickering
Still controlled by a Victorian ideal blurring the lines between love and sex
It is Baby that reaps the benefits of the sacrifice

“Ooh Baby, yeah right there...yes Baby”

Whispered softy with a lobe nibble
As the conversation grows deeper Baby becomes Beast
Then
At the climactic close
With the 3rd $15 Target lamp laying broken bedside
It comes full circle

“Yes Eric!”

“Yes Eric!”

“YES!”

Siren’s Solitude Song

2010-01-23T09:12:00.000-08:00

My mind, like most, rests in routine. If there was constant newness it would burnout like a light left on too long. But, it is inspired by those miracle moments when freshness forces it to escape the boundaries that it builds to protect itself.

This morning I had one of those moments. I knew I wanted to write, but desire and ability do not often lie in the same bed. Today they were lovers.

There are a few things that consistently compel my pen, relationships, as you all know, new experiences are another igniter, and weather. I do not know if it is the moon’s pull over my Cancerian soul or just an intimacy I have with nature, but weather often frees me from self-imposed shackles.

I hope you enjoy reading my moment, as much as I enjoyed experiencing it.

Siren’s Solitude Song

And you
came thick
shimmering beneath headlights’ fake sunshine rays
like cubic zirconium sparkling in places where diamonds should live

The sun
distant unseen
dwarfed by your commanding presence
as if Zeus had allowed his oceans to fill the atmosphere

And you
bring nightmares
faceless forms moving about in shadows cast by aging incandescence
their heat and hum produce miracle moments of energy despite deep chill

The shadow
silent stalker
follows close then disappears into daytime darkness
as if it too was frightened by your blinding chrome essence

But you
fell gentle
soft warm wet embrace wrapped around me
like lovers lost to moonlight madness and Siren’s solitude song

And I
swam in silver swirls
danced in daytime darkness
like big kid with tongue trying to taste air
smiled

I am very fortunate to be surrounded by very talented people, so I am going to borrow some photography from my good friend Corey Woodruff, yes the former drummer of Whiskey Daydream and the current drummer of Phat noiZ, ladies keep your panties on...shirts can come off though. Recently Woody did a shoot called Chasing Light in Fog. I think these shots add a nice visual to the poem.

Enjoy...

And one more...

That's all for now...as always, thanks for reading and let me know what you think of the poem.

Top Ten Albums of 2009

2010-01-01T10:35:00.001-08:00

To be honest if I did not have this blog, I probably would have never made this list. A friend of mine that knows I Tweet a lot about music asked me if I was doing one. I hadn’t thought about it previously, but decided it would give me something to write about, so I set about compiling my Top 10 Albums of 2009.

#10 Momento Mori – Flyleaf

Flyleaf burst on the scene like the NEW big thing. Their videos were all over the place, and the media was in love with lead singer Lacey Mosey. Then the most tragic thing that can happen in Modern Rock music occurred, people figured out they were Christian. DOH! And much like Jars of Clay they sort of fell off the map. Well 4 years after their first release, they are back! Now, from the moment I heard “All Around Me” I knew they were Christian, and I am shocked and embarrassed for early listeners that no one else seemed to catch on to that, but I have never been opposed to Christian music. I mean, I am a Christian, why would I not listen to Christian music. I am, however, very anti poorly written Christian music (or poorly written music of any kind for that matter), but Flyleaf does it right. Their self-titled release was amazing, and Momento Mori pick-ups where they left off in 2005. It is more contemplative and a bit more rebellious, as if they were snubbing the establishment that snubbed them, but it has all the energy, passion, thick guitars, and amazing vocals that lovers of the first album will appreciate.

#9 Swoon – Silversun Pickups

I am going to be honest, as much as I love to be the person that finds the new band, that has been following them since they were playing small local clubs and doing regional tours, Silversun Pickups was a late find for me, but I am on board now and continually blown away by what I hear. I realize some bands hate comparisons, but for people that are unfamiliar with Silversun Pickups, I would be remiss for not mentioning a distinct similarity to Smashing Pumpkins. I can confidently say if you love the Pumpkins you will love the Pickups. Swoon is a masterpiece, combining thoughtful lyrics with the best dynamics I have heard on an album since Transatlanticism. There is a droning energy that carries through the entire disc, but each song moves in amazing musical directions, pulls when you should be pulled and pets you when your heart has had enough.

#8 The Fray – The Fray

As I was pre-tweeting these albums, posting one per day for the last 10 days, I called this a guilty pleasure. It is unfortunate that the pools I swim in are full of music elitists that scoff at anything that has mass appeal…more unfortunate that I allowed myself to kowtow to them and lost my authenticity. The reality is I LOVE the Fray, and I will not feel guilty for it. Isaac Slade has a very distinct voice which is instantly recognizable; their lyrics are personal yet universal; the music is solid and layered; they create great musical textures, offering harmonies and separation which allows the listener to hear everything in space…frankly, I am not sure why everyone doesn’t love this band.

#7 Brand New Eyes – Paramore

I started listening to Paramore back in 2005, right around the same time that I was turned on to Flyleaf. Actually I got into Paramore because I liked Flyleaf so much. Without a doubt Paramore and Flyleaf are as similar as two bands can be, but I do not fault either one of them. Much like Pearl Jam and STP, sometimes there is this cosmic energy that can have guys in Seattle and San Diego creating music at the same time that seems as if it fell from the same pen, or in this case some Christians in Texas and some teens in Tennessee both deciding it is okay to be fronted by a female and still rock, provided she has an amazing voice, and like Lacey, Hayley William’s voice is extremely powerful and expressive. She lets you know how and what she is feeling in her tone. The main reason Brand New Eyes is #7 and Momento Mori is #10 is because Brand New Eyes is Paramore’s 3rd album. Every signed band gets 2 shots, but that 3rd album…that third album determines if you are going to disintegrate into mythic statements as people remember how good you were (aka STP) or firmly plant yourself on the road to longevity. This album is so solid; I cannot imagine Paramore not being around for a long time.

#6 Strict Joy – Swell Season

What an amazing story, one small independent movie that they thought no one would see, breaks through all the glitz and glitter of big budget Hollywood to touch millions of people that had been begging for something real, something with feeling, something that was honest and pure…Swell Season was born. As longtime frontman of the Frames, Glen Hansard went from relative obscurity to one of the most respected singer/songwriters of our time, and with an album that opens with:

I wanna sit you down and talk
I wanna pull back the veils
And find out what it is I’ve done wrong
I wanna tear these curtains down
I want you to meet me somewhere
Tonight in this old tourist town

It is easy to see why. He is able to say what all of our hearts have wanted to say at some point. I mean who hasn’t felt that they were born to hold you in these arms? If based on lyrics and vocals alone, this would have been #2 for me, but I miss the rawness of the Once Soundtrack. I do not fault Glen or Marketa. They probably had legitimate studio money for the first time in their lives, how do you not get all wrapped up in slick production? But for me it loses a little something.

#5 Songs in the Night – Samantha Crain and the Midnight Shivers

Samantha was one of my serendipitous finds…when you are going to see one band and the opener happens to be as amazing as the headliner. Rarely will I buy an album at a show, for lack of cash on me or just inconvenience of the moment, but when I saw Samantha open for Thao I knew I had to leave with some of her music. Songs in the Night has everything that I am looking for in an album, great lyrics, distinct and resounding vocals, and stripped instrumentation with subtle layers. Although a very clean album, its lack of super shiny production put it just slightly above Strict Joy.

#4 The Fall – Norah Jones

Norah Jones is one of those artists that is so damn good that you want new music from her constantly, like it should just never stop coming. Even though there was only two years between Not too Late and The Fall, it seamed like an eternity. What I loved about the release of this album is they did it with quiet confidence. I just stumbled upon it at Best Buy one day. They knew people that love Norah would find it, and they were right. The Fall is very different from Norah’s previous releases. They are all quintessential Norah, but the others seem to have a Jazz undercurrent. This disc comes off as being a bit more experimental and has a solid bass groove that carries each piece, as opposed to the constant reliance on Norah’s keys.

#3 American Central Dust – Son Volt

Without Son Volt there would have been no Whiskey Daydream. Jay Farrar continues to be one of the most inspiring singer/songwriters and biggest influences on me. He can turn a phrase like few others, and the career he carved out from Uncle Tupelo to Son Volt with solo work in the middle is everything I dream of. American Central Dust is a return to Son Volt’s earlier work, more stripped, sparse, and open, but it still carries the same energy as Okemah and The Search. As far as I am concerned, there isn’t a false move on the disc. The instrumentation is perfect. Jay’s voice continues to be stark and emotive. There is melancholy and hope, introspection and revelation…with each tremolo’d strum and twanged chorus American Central Dust introduces its new listeners to a genre of music that Farrar created and reminds fans why Alt-Country is so powerful and moving.

#2 One Last Century – The Damnwells

I have spent the better part of the year talking up this band. I know I have converted some of you, and many of you have downloaded this album as a result of my posts, but recently my efforts were rewarded when my great friend Rob Woerther proclaimed One Last Century to be a Top 5. I respect Rob more than just about anyone when it comes to songwriting and overall music knowledge, and while we may have divergent opinions on certain artists (he is a Wilco devotee where I took the Son Volt road) we both recognize great songs, and One Last Century is filled with them. I drug my friend Stephanie on a 4 day roadtrip through 6 states just to see this band, and we are heading up to Chicago next week to get in another Damnwells show. They need no pretty adjectives to describe them. The Damnwells are amazing, and you should love them and this album…the end.

#1 One Fast Move or I'm Gone – Jay Farrar & Ben Gibbard

Jay Farrar, Ben Gibbard, and Jack Kerouac, really that is all I am going to say. If you want more go read One Fast Move

It's the Little Things...

2009-12-19T09:58:00.000-08:00

It has been a while since I blogged. I commend those that are able to do weekly or daily posts. Apparently, I do not have the time management skills that they have, or I recognize my life, despite being a rockstar (hahaha), is relatively boring: wake-up, workout, work, come home, play music, sleep…repeat. Maybe it is that I lack the ability or desire to make the mundane interesting…maybe I am building a fortress of excuses around me and none of them really matter. What matters is, I haven’t been blogging, but I am now.

Last night was the debut performance for my new band, So Much Closer. I don’t really have any intentions on rehashing the show…there will be picks on Facebook and a YouTube video. At the end of the day, it was a gig something I have been doing since 1996. The fact that it was with a new band that has tons of potential certainly heightened my level of excitement, but as I reflect back, all my mind remembers is what we need to fix. The curse of every musician I believe: our stage volume is out of control…we are using amps to compete with Patrick’s drumming when we should be using the house sound. Unfortunately Swans’s amp cannot keep up with Chris’ and pushing mine to that level causes me to lose the clean tone of the Clara. The one song I didn’t start took off like a jet fueled GTI and lost its natural groove in the process, instead it sounded like a train wreck of beats and big vocals. Other than that there were only slight hiccups where someone lost the 1 or introduced a new chord. All and all, probably 35 minutes of tightness and 5 of what just happened.

What I really wanted to talk about was the venue, odd name that caused more questions than I care to deal with when promoting a show, but the coolest venue I have played in a LONG time, The Library. Now, outside of the Firebird, which we are working on, and a few blues clubs, I am pretty confident that I have played every room in St. Louis, not to mention I have some road time as reference. The Library is not awesome because it has the best sound in the world (although it was stellar) or because the stage is the biggest and newest (it is not).
The Library is awesome because the little things and their staff.

Everybody there seemed equally excited to see the show, like they were there for the show too, like they took a job there not because they needed a job but because they wanted to be around live ORIGINAL music. So many times the employees at music venues make me feel like just another tip, particularly the slicker/prettier venues. Sure they may be rocking the look, exposed tats, a piercing or two, but they do not bleed and sweat for music. From Porsche behind the bar to Todd at the door to Sheri who booked it to Tom (from JTS Audio) running sound, everyone was totally cool.

Now the little stuff, they had a back stage! And, it was organized for bands. You could tell the people working there had done this before. So many venues I have played, the stage is an after thought, even the Old Rock House which is totally amazing and probably has the best stage/sound in town, did not think about load-in and storage. There is nowhere but the stage to put bags, cases, coats, etc. Plus back stage The Library had Fruit and Vegetable trays for us. The only other venue I have played at that did that was The Pageant, just the coolest sentiment. Even though girlfriends of the band probably ate more of it than we did, it showed total appreciation for what we do, and that…that means everything to me.

So what has the Library done by doing this? Earned loyalty, and not just as a musician but as a patron. If I am looking for something to do on a Friday or Saturday, guess where I am going to look first, The Library. When I book a show there, I am going to promote it like Kid Rock promoted shows back in Detroit. When it comes time for me to do a CD release party, guess where I am going to try to book first? The Library is the correct answer. Off Broadway used to be this venue for me when Connie owned it and Jen was behind the bar, but now I cannot even get Steve to return an e-mail…so Library, you got my support, the support of my band, and everybody we brought loved it, so they will be back!

Bad High-School Poetry

2009-11-22T07:46:00.000-08:00

It has been kind of a weird week for me. Like most people I have a few different versions of myself, but for the most part Poet/Musician Eric is the Supreme Ruler of me. I have given him that title because there appears to be very little democracy in the decision making process, like Homeowner Eric thinks there are tons of things he could do with tax return money, but he has yet to win that debate, seems every year there is an amp that Poet/Musician Eric must have or he has to go in to the studio or needs a new guitar because there is a tonal gap with the 7 he currently has.

This week was Work Eric’s week. I do not intend to discuss work in this blog for a few reasons, but primarily because Work Eric is quiet possibly the weakest of the Erics. He may be a bit stronger than Homeowner Eric, but still nothing compared to Poet/Musician Eric or Friend Eric or Family Eric; however, his importance is not diminished on the tribal counsel and all versions of Eric are appreciative that his contributions provide them freedom, but he kind of just does what he has to, not really what he wants to. He is driven by a combination of fear and desire to succeed. The deal was he was really busy this week, which caused everybody else to take a break from their normal functions, except Workout Eric, Workout Eric never alters his routine.

Alright now that everyone officially thinks I have lost it, let’s talk songwriting. I had an opportunity to sit down and write yesterday, which is a rarity for me due to the chaos that I keep for a schedule, but Saturday afternoon offered a perfect window to get something accomplished. I had a chord progression I had been toying with for a few weeks and a line that I wanted to work in to a song, just needed the time to tie them together. The line is “Traffic Stopping Stunning” (maybe it is more of a label than a line). It is something I coined while I was in Birmingham on my Southeast Swing tour and saw the most amazingly attractive girl at a show I was playing at Marty’s. So I took that, ensconced it in a warm blanket of shyness, and this is what came out.

I Don’t Know Your Name

(Verse 1)
Silent energy between distant eyes
My mind drafts stories of us tonight

(Verse 2)
I play the rescuer, you the enslaved queen
Destroy armies just to set you free

(Verse 3)
Then you’ll play the flower and I’ll be the bee
Sip from your nectar to quench my need

(Chorus)
You’re traffic stopping stunning
But you don’t even know my name
You’re traffic stopping stunning
But I don’t even know your name

(Verse 4)
Tantric crescendo as we close the gap
I’m staring at you, but you’re looking past

(Verse 5)
Crafted stories escape my mind
Hope blue sky falls to moonlight wine

(Verse 6)
I would have held you 10,000 days
but intense pressure left no words to say

(Chorus)

(Bridge)
All these years of quiet fears
Guess I am still the same
In this hour, I’ve lost my power
Because I don’t know your name

As you can tell, I do not really follow a standard songwriting format Verse/Chorus/Verse/Chorus/Bridge/Chorus, and that is okay. I do not claim to write country or pop, so if I bend the rules so be it. The issue that I have and why I rarely share lyrics is they are never as good as poetry. When I sit down to write a song, rather than to just write, I will innately structure the words to fit the tune. When performed everything seems fine, but on paper, if you are reading the words, they are just not that good. To me, very few song lyrics can hold their own on the page, maybe Waits, Dylan and Morrison, but outside of that they all sound like bad high-school poetry.

I suppose that is really all I have this week. I’ve been very focused on getting everything in place for So Much Closer, getting assistance with Logo creation from Stephanie, launching all necessary pages: Facebook, MySpace, and a FanBridge page so you can join the e-mail list. I also put together an ArtistData account, which I am still learning how to use effectively, and the CafePress site will be up once the logo is complete.
Here is the first draft of the logo:

Lastly we started talking with Abi Robins from Morning Bird Records about joining their collective. There is a lot of potential there to help out the scene and get some much needed support for out of town shows. And that really is it. Hope everyone has a good week...Eric

Days I Will Never Forget [Morgan Page]

2009-11-16T17:50:00.000-08:00

I think if you asked the majority of my friends they would say I hate clubs, and I probably wouldn’t deny it, but that is not entirely true. What I dislike is the bullshit that accompanies clubs, the Too Cool Crew that lines outside walls, mean mugging people with puffed pathetic chests, as they tip up dangling bottles of domestic, held loosely between their index finger and thumb...the prostitots putting their pure petals on display for all to ogle at, more interested in being scene than the underground scene...the inevitable chaos of those that cannot control consumption milling about like wayward atoms in super conductor, colliding into each other and disrupting the energy of those that are living for the beat.

Here is what I love about them: dance, sweat induced euphoria, good friends having good times, the pulsation, BPMs that hit so hard they alter the rhythm of your heart, being lost in the moment.

It had been years since I had been to a “club” club, but this Saturday I had the opportunity to see the Grammy Nominated Morgan Page do his thing, and it was VIP all the way. My keeper (this keeper concept came out of an earlier post,I essentially have one good friend from every segment of my life) from High School, Jared, has bucked the system since we were 15, and it is finally paying off for him.

He is managing several extremely successful DJs and making a living at it. Morgan is his client, so Jared got me, and a few of my favorites, on the guest list.

Whitney and Noellen

Allyson

To be honest, the only reason I went there was to see Jared, and I thought it was cool that I could hook some friends up. By the time the night was over, the reason I was glad I was there was it reminded me of how much joy I find in dance, and how much I genuinely enjoy House/Techno/DnB. I mean, I am not going to play it in Saaby on my way to work, but when you want to lose yourself in movement and music, there is nothing better. It really was a great night, mean muggers kept to themselves, prostitos stumbled about, as they do, but the energy in Sol Lounge was infectious and Morgan was pulling our chords like a great Puppet Master. I had the pleasure of dancing with 5 amazing ladies (Allyson, Heidi, Megan, Noellen, and Whitney) and two of my best friends (Jeff and Jared) all night long. Other than playing a show, it really doesn’t get better than that for me.

Bad photo of the crew:

What I look like after 2 plus hours of dancing...ROUGH!!!

Even my shoulder was sweating...that is just wrong!

When I was younger and in the Navy I spent a lot of time at dance clubs. I wrote this piece after dancing ‘til dawn on Oahu.

Waikiki Waltz

Clouds waltz across an opaque sky
Waikiki wipes the sleepies from her eyes
Geisha girls scuffle by in bowed appreciation
Street lamps bloom at the stroke of 8pm
Conversations filled with the purity of summer romance
Jungle beats bounce your feet through its doors
Dancers groove to strobe light amplification
With sweaty confused eyes Puppet Master controls you
Sarah arrives with quarterly refreshments
Halo's appear hovering above angel heads
Manito kissed his child, sent her down on winged cloud
Robotic rhythm drives blood pulsation
Exhaustion slows mind, slows body
Manito's child vanishes, angels follow
Once pure streets now soiled with inebriation
Cool breezes walk tourists to hotels
At dawn Waikiki sleeps