drinkdrankdrunk: "DIRT DICK AND THE MACHINE ELVES" by The Midnight Rider

if the linguistics professor at cashpoint went to my undergrad, they’d call him “dirt dick”… brotherman has a 7-year-old son from a bartender at the punkrock bar in town, a 4-year-old son from another bartender at the punkrock bar in town, and he recently married one of his students who is 15 years younger (and from colombia) … there are plenty of professors at cashpoint who think they’re playas, but this dude really is one … i walked into a strange liquor store with him one time and the girl-behind-the-counter was ready to abandon her post and go to his house in about 30 seconds--there are conflicting theories as to his popularity with women, but i’d go with:  giant cock … he’s not particularly choosy, but who i am to judge? ... he’s also a weed dealer, but in general, i’m not a fan of the sour diesel (and generally only call on him as a favor to annie’s sister) … the last time i was at his house, he broke out the dmt (dimethyltryptamine)--you know, the psychedelic compound that causes the user to see machine elves (the humanoid hallucination of an elf-bouncing-a-ball first coined by ethnobotanist, terence mckenna) … well, i didn’t see any little/green elves, but i did see a vision of cartoon/technicolor hell when i smoked/snorted the compound … before i tell the story, i should mention that if you asked dirt dick what he thought of me, he would prolly respond that i was paranoid (and you would be too if your mother was peeping around the corner watching every cookie you ever ate) … conversely, sitting in a room with dirt dick reminds me of boarding school when one of the richer/kooler kids was trying to dare me into doing something that i didn’t want to do--perhaps i cosmically believe that dirt dick is kooler, but there’s something about his personality that makes me want to keep him at arm’s length … anyway, onto the machine elves … the first time i barely hit the bowl, and when i looked down, i could see red/cartoon swirls for a few seconds … dirt dick was in another dimension for about a minute, and when he came back, he asked me if i saw “it”--when i told him what i saw, he heckled that i didn’t do enough … we smoked again in a few minutes, and i did a little more … when i looked down this time, i saw the same red/technicolor swirls plus millions of tiny dilbert-style (like for office workers) cubicles … when dirt dick came back around the 2nd time, he seemed even angrier that i hadn’t seen “it” and implied that i was a pussy … after about 45 minutes of arguing, i agreed to snort the dmt--this time it “worked”, and i was forced to make a decision … i knew that if i looked down that i would see hell--it would be a red/swirling, tex avery version of hell, but it would still be hell … i knew that the effects of the dmt were only supposed to last 30 seconds or so, but i was afraid that if i looked down that i would be stuck in hell forever … and being the pussy that i am, i wouldn’t let myself look down … i looked up instead--thereby remaining on the right/rational side of the fence … over the years, i’ve prolly done over 200 hits of lsd, but i never did more than one even when my friend, nootie was doing 3-4 … i was always afraid that i would lose my mind and never come back … since doing the dmt, i’ve noticed a few subtle changes in my consciousness (and they say once you do it, you’re never quite the same) … the first change is in my rem “sleep”--usually when my eyes are closed and i’m nodding off, the vision i see in my brain is of my eyes as some sort of vehicle “driving” down a road … since the dmt, i see darkened figures shooting off to the left/right as opposed to a road--maybe you could call these figures “neurons”?--i really don’t know … the second, small thing i’ve noticed occurs when i’m watching a ghost show or scary movie on tv … for most of my life when hearing a ghost story that i believed, i got the chills--well, i still get the same chills in 2016 when i believe, but they seem to be 20 times more intense … i know this section is ostensibly about the life/times of dirt dick, so maybe i should end with the story of his wedding (to a 22-year-old, former student from colombia) … dirt dick decided to have a “big lebowski” wedding at the local bowling alley complete with costumes and memorabilia … i did my part by wearing the costume of the cashpoint mascot i had worn the day before at the school soccer game … one of the more interesting aspects of the wedding was that all the cashpoint nuns were in attendance and one of them even read a scripture verse--and he was marrying a student who was in his class at the time! ... wiseman, giada, and i all ate special brownies, but giada didn’t tell her husband, and i spent most of the evening encouraging her to eat-more-food (so her husband wouldn’t know she was freaking out) … the liquor store was right across the street, so i snuck away from the wedding for about an hour to hang out with my buddy, rob, whose dad owns the place (we watched tv in the backroom and smoked a couple doobies) … supposedly the bride and groom got in a fight at the end of the night because the bride refused a drunk drive home (while the local police circled the block) … the groom eventually made it home unscathed, but somewhere in the mix, he left both his guitar and driver’s license (and there was an outstanding warrant for his arrest because of a 1999 trespassing charge in illinois) … when dirt dick went back to the town the following monday, he was arrested and given a future court date … i never found out what happened after that, but in retrospect, maybe dirt dick really is kooler than me? … my wedding gift to the couple was the fabulous furry freak brothers compendium, so at least they knew my heart was in the right place

The Midnight Rider prefers to remain mysterious.  You could visit his website, but he won't say where it is.  You could read his books, but he won't say what they are.  You could email him, but I'm pretty sure spam@gofuckyourself.gov is not a real email address.  In a world where everyone is repping their Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, sex tapes, line of clothing, new microbrew, virus panic vaccine status, and overall brand, I find that refreshing.  I am happy to have The Rider ride on drinkdrankdrunk.

New Single!: Stop Communication

wredfright · Stop Communication

I was looking through some files the other day and came upon some old letters from old friends, and I was struck by how little people today communicate when compared with the letterwriters of yore.  It's especially ironic considering how many new avenues of communication have opened up in the decades since those letters were written.  People could email the equivalent of the letters, but they almost never do.  Most emails I get are from businesses or organizations, not from people.  People could even still send letters if they wanted to, but they don't.  That's what inspired this song.  I took the title from my old pals Radar Secret Service who had an album called Stop Communication, but from what I recall never a song of the title.  Musically, this tale of a lack of communication between two old friends?  lovers?  acquaintances? is me drumming on a table along with this goofy cheap door alarm my father had.  Lyrics are below:

You could stop over and chat, but you never do.
You could call me on the phone, but you never do.
And if I left you a voicemail, I'd still never hear from you.

Stop!
Communication.
I guess you have nothing left to say.

You could send me a text, but you never do.
You could zip me an email, but you never do.
And if I left a comment on your Website, I'd still never hear from you.

All the new modern technology and nobody communicates--they just shout at each other and complain they're lonely.

You could write me a letter, but you never do.
You could send me some smoke signals, but you never do.
And if I ever see you again, I'm not going to say boo.

For more Wred Fright music, listen to the Yeast? 7" or give his latest album a listen or download at your favorite digital music site such as Spotify or Bandcamp!

New Single!: Kaurismaki

wredfright · Kaurismaki

I am fond of the films of Aki Kaurismaki.  If you're aren't familiar with him, he's a director from Finland.  In this song, I utilize various elements that often appear in his films.  Maybe The Leningrad Cowboys can cover it sometime!  I probably butchered his name in the chorus, but I don't speak Finnish.  Musically, this was composed very strangely for me, just using a tiny drumset I had.  The bass (fake bass, it's a guitar) and guitar were almost afterthoughts.  I've been composing on the guitar for so long that it was time to try to write songs on different instruments before I just fell into a rut.  It's been very interesting doing so.  I am certain I will return to the guitar at some point, but it may be some time.  Lyrics are below:

I moved from the country to the city.
I got a dog, and it was not pretty.
I smoked a cigarette down by the river.
If I keep on drinking this way, I'll need a new liver.

Kaurismaki

I got mugged, so now I have no money.
Can't find a job, and that's not funny.
I met this femme.  She said she's going to help me.
That's good because sleeping in doorways isn't real healthy.

A cop came around asking some questions.
So I stepped into a nightclub and caught some late night sessions.
I'm going to sneak out of here on a boat.
If I ever go to Finland again, I better bring a warmer coat.

For more Wred Fright music, listen to the Yeast? 7" or give his latest album a listen or download at your favorite digital music site such as Spotify or Bandcamp!

Gang Of Foreigner On Spotify

 

My latest album, Gang Of Foreigner has arrived on Spotify:  https://open.spotify.com/artist/4jtrirYbvh6O1zQ7AJghIB.  I'm assuming that means it's available at the zillion other music sites worldwide that the distributor sends it to, so you can probably listen to it wherever you want to.  It was a little delayed because the moderator at the distributor must have thought it was K-Pop or something and thought it needed remastered or whatnot.  I basically told them that no, it's supposed to sound sort of fucked-up, and then it was smooth sailing, as the old saying goes.  If you listen to it, you'll probably double my monthly listeners.  Considering something like 25,000 tracks a day pop up on Spotify, I am not saddened by that.  I like it.  It's there if you want to give it a spin.  If you like it, then give it another metaphorical spin.  If you don't like it, then maybe you'll like one of the other 25,000 tracks from that day.  I know there's a deluge of content, but I'm still always amazed that people don't try new music these days.  I love the oldies also, but it's not like one has to shell out money to hear a new album anymore.  It's OK to roll the dice and stream something.  You might find something new to like.  One fun thing about Spotify is that they generate a Wred Fright radio station which has other fun stuff (right now, it looks like it has Car Seat Headrest, Gilla Band, and some others, but it's always changing, presumably based on what listeners are listening to and various computer algorithms trying to link tracks together that the same people will like).  Spotify thinks the album is from 2020 probably because the distributor notes the earliest year of composition, but it's from this year (my first album is listed as being from 1994, but came out in 2021). 

For more Wred Fright music, listen to the Yeast? 7" or give his previous albums a listen or download at your favorite digital music site such as SoundCloud or Bandcamp!