Summer's Demise

This evening I strolled through the wet, grey streets of the quaint riverside town I inhabit.
The large digital display atop the old bank building read 68 degrees and I felt the edges of my lips curl upward. Autumn approaches. I can hear it's melody in the distance. You see, dear Sinners, Autumn provides creative transfusion.
I can smell the leaves dying already, and I am readying my veins for new stock.

The Elephant Box Part I

This will be the first part of a longer story. The emotional truth and detailed nature of this life changing event will no doubt make it a challenge for me to write in one sitting. I will write as much as feels natural now and continue the story again soon.

Enjoy...

Upon my father's death years ago, not much was passed along to his seven children. Rather, a letter was given to each in advance of his demise. In said letter, he expressed his desire that all choices to pass along his belongings be made (and rightfully so) by his soon to be grieving bride.

Upon his death, I was given a few antique rifles and the family crest. I expected that would be the end of it. Five years passed.

At a recent funeral, my step-mother approached me and recommended I remove a box from her car. A box of things belonging to my father. Things I did not know existed. My breath left me, and I took the keys from her hand. Her new husband (a lovely man named Andy) ironically escorted me to the automobile and helped to retrieve a massive cardboard vessel from the front seat. He left with a sweaty brow and much haste, seeming to understand that the gravity of this moment had nothing to do with the weight of the box.

I opened the torn top flaps, and beneath that smoldering midday sun I gazed upon the most profound gift I have ever or will ever receive(d).

Among various significant items within the box was another box. Ancient, wooden, and hand-crafted. I removed the cracked lid and immediately felt a salty drop emerge from my eye. This box, this, tiny museum, was far too significant to be sifted through on the sorrow-trodden asphalt of a funeral home parking lot. This gift deserved the comfort of low light and whiskey. The sort of thing to be inspected closely, with each of it's elements spread out on the floor before me. This was history. My history.
The missing pieces of a man I knew only through a single short-sighted lens. Atop the stack of faded and torn contents within the box, a photograph stared back at me. The face I recognized, but not much else. The picture was of a man in the most graceful of ballet stances. Slim. Shoulders back. Eyes narrow. Poised. Strong. The Elephant in 1952. Just several years younger than I am now. He was a dancer.

Sj

The Owl & The Elephant




It is my absolute pleasure to announce the official release of my first full-length album entitled, "The Owl & The Elephant".
The album was recorded and mixed on off hours at The Barber Shop Studios in Hopatcong, NJ. The entire process took about 2 weeks, but due to limited (but very much appreciated) studio access, that 2 weeks took nearly a year. I must say though, in the course of that year, these songs never once became old or stale for me. I am as motivated and passionate about this collection of stories as I was the day we began tracking Mr. Bones' eloquent drum tracks.

I worked side by side with Mr. Mike Ferretti for the duration of the album's production. Mike is an incredibly gifted Producer/Engineer/Mixer whose talent is limitless. Not for a moment did we disagree on what was right. For the most part, my original arrangements are intact on the recordings. Mike though, knew exactly where to place every element and sound in a way that, to me, gives every instrument on each song a distinctly playful and important character. There are many ways this album could have sounded, and in the end, I believe Mike and I agree, it sounds exactly as it should.

The album itself is intended to be listened to in it's entirety the first time. After that, I imagine and hope that everyone will have their favorite songs, but It is assembled in a way that should make sense to most who listen. One might think of it as a book with two major sections and an epilogue.

Section I: Tracks 1-6
Section II: 7 - 9
Epilogue: 10

I could ramble on about what these stories mean to me and how grateful I am to all of the people who graciously lent they're time, talent, and resources, but I'd rather have you hear that passion and appreciation through the songs themselves.

Now, the task of delivering my work to the masses. Oh, the fun we'll have.
You may now purchase the album as digital downloads or physical CD at the links below.

Thank you always for reading my ramblings

Sooner Sinners,

Sj

AmazonMP3

iTunes

CD & Merchandise

Life Is Beautiful........

Friends, I must warn you. This video is not for the faint of heart, but then again neither are the horrors our species is capable of.
Do not watch this if you have a weak stomach. Or do....




Sooner,

Sj

Hope & Glory In Hong Kong

Last week it was my absolute pleasure and privilege to be part of an historic arts event in Hong Kong. Before I dig into my mischief there, a bit of necessary back story. In early 2009 I worked collaboratively with an incredibly talented producer named Gary Gunn. Mr. Gunn approached me after a Manhattan performance and asked me to work with him on a project that The Source magazine would later call a "beautiful monster of music akin to Frankenstein". The source is indeed a hip-hop magazine, but worry not readers...I do not 'rap' (thought others do beautifully). Have a listen to one of the songs I sang and co-wrote on Gary's album 'Destroying Beauty' here. It is a bit of a departure from what you might expect from me...but I gather those of you following my blog can guess how I feel about expectations.

It was my work on Mr. Gunn's diverse project that led me first to Miami in 2009, and last week, to Hong Kong for the opening of visionary artist Simon Birch's conceptual circus called Hope & Glory. This event is (through May 30, 2010), the first of it's scope and size in the history of Hong Kong's art community. The exhibit is a 20,000 square foot labyrinth of interlinked multi-media installations ranging from a 3-D film inside a foreboding black and red circus tent, to my favorite of the lot, Twilight Shadows Of The Bright Face, a reinvention of the circus freak show.

Now certainly, I am more of a whiskey and smoke sort of gentleman, but the electric air at the opening party was soaked in neon, vodka, and the gaze 4,000 curious eyes. It was delightful. I left my usual seat behind the black and whites to prowl and slither across the stage. I welcomed the change and I hope to be invited to perform similarly in the near future. Worry not though, I could never abandon my beast of 88 teeth.

The trip to and from Hong Kong was...well....I cannot sleep in transit, so the 16 hour flights gave me the opportunity to watch 14 films that I'd not yet seen. My favorites being Harry Brown and The Road. I suggest each of you see both. A good portion of my stay involved not sleeping and imbibing of that old familiar poison. We did see some sights, but quite honestly once you've lived in Manhattan, every other city seems like...a town.

I will post photos from the performance soon with a bit more about the mischief made there. But for now, be sure to click the links embedded in this post. You'll discover some truly wonderful art and music.

Sooner,
Sj








Propaganda in the jungle

I have no interest in politicians or their intentions. I have no illusions about the American government or the pigs who partake of it's vile slop. That's what pigs do. They stuff themselves for the slaughter. I am not progressive, conservative or any other -ive or -ist, but I don't mind if someone calls me one or the other. These categories and their definitions are irrelevant because they are imaginary, like most things we beautiful creatures indulge in to make us feel organized and powerful.

I've been reading all this health-care reform jargon, and frankly it strikes me as rather hysterical. The most entertaining aspect is that some of the citizens of this country are surprised and outraged. What did we expect would spawn from the blind leading the blind? Some sort of beautiful, peaceful utopia where all people are happy and the the government is self sustaining? One has only to briefly research the history of government over the ages to understand a society of that nature is unachievable. Our species is incapable of long term fundamental peace and/or happiness, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

We are hairless, delusional apes hanging upside down by our tails from the tree of knowledge. We give orders and argue about gods, constitutions, monsters, and morals. Silver backs replaced by old money, silly symbols, and ivy league degrees.

And now, in our spectacular nation, there is a stirring. Suddenly...wait a moment...this doesn't seem...fair. How could the government possibly mandate something? How could they tell us what to do with our bodies?

Oh dear, they've been doing it all along. There are just simply enough angry monkeys now to cause a riot in the jungle.

There is no party friends but the one we throw when it's all ash and chaos.

Dream. Well.

Sooner,
Sj




Man Meet Compass

Last evening, I had the pleasure of overhearing a ridiculous man say ridiculous things. Yes, this happens frequently, but this particular monologue warrants a nod from my fingertips.

It must first be said that the jabbering man was in fact doing his best to lure a member of the female species back to whatever place such a man inhabits. I imagine unread coffee table books and Ikea furniture.

The man was telling a story about his in-car navigation system. A few nights earlier he had been headed in one direction and the navigation device implied that he should make a U-turn. He followed instructions, drove a bit in the opposite direction, and was told by the device to make another U-turn. Retracing steps. Fair enough. I assumed the story would end there with a safe but slightly delayed arrival. It did not.

The man continued. He traveled in the direction he was originally headed and looked carefully for the elusive right turn. After a mile or so, the device once again told him he should turn around. He followed instructions. Another U-turn. He followed instructions. Another. He followed. At that point in telling the story the man said something like; "this damn thing had me driving in circles".

No sir. You allowed yourself to become so lazy and dependent on this flawed technology that your sense of reason became frustrated and abandoned you. You traded in your inner compass for a palm sized contraption made of metal and plastic. I must thank you for exponentially decreasing the market value of human instinct.

I imagine that this man will one day be surprised to learn that he's developed a brain tumor from constantly wearing one of those silly blue-tooth ear pieces. By constantly I don't mean while driving or doing something that requires a 'hands free' phone call. I mean he more than likely keeps it in his ear at the dinner table and at the movie theatre.

I take my hat off at the dinner table. Take that ridiculous thing out of your ear. There are no important calls coming. I promise you.

I digress.

In short, the man realized he had entered the wrong street name for his destination, the woman did not leave with him, and I've got first claim on his clothes when I find him wandering in a post-apocalyptic forest somewhere, praying for his battery dead navigation device to suddenly power up and guide him home. At least if he's on a call he'll have his hands free to undress.

Let's just hope I'm not hungry.

Amaretto

Today was the first truly frigid day of winter I believe.  The lake I smoke near is working it’s way toward frozen.

A single gull floats.  I suppose like me, it enjoys the cold as much as the view.

Amaretto Tobacco.  A fine recommendation indeed.

The Owl & The Elephant

I thought I might use my first blog to write of my upcoming full length album.  I intend to ‘release’ it in Spring of 2010.

It will be a collection of ten stories called ‘The Owl & The Elephant”.  Two of said stories were part of my first EP, Red Room Vol. 1

In creating this collection, I challenged myself to navigate the rules of my little world and translate accordingly.  I made my way through cobwebs and over ancient bones.  I waded through muck and confronted demons, past and future.  Do not misunderstand though, this process has been no labor of any kind.  It has been the will of the molecules and the madness.
Currently, the incredibly talented Mike Ferretti is mixing the record.  I am always present, but having co-produced from the start, Mike  has an uncanny understanding of what ‘it’ is.  ‘It’ can be defined in so many ways I suppose.   First and foremost, yours truly.

Sooner,


Sj