No Body
No Body, like many songs, came from a dream. There was one specific dream during that month of July where I was less interested in the events of the dream and more in the position from which I experienced it. Generally speaking I dream with a body that feels much like my familiar human body in waking life – I’m still human when I’m dreaming. But what use do I have for the body in a dream?
A friend once told me that the coolest dream he ever had began with him in the sky flying, and when he looked from side to side he recognized that he had wings and that there were birds all around him. He was in the body of a bird, flying with the flock, with the awareness of a human being. I’m so envious of that dream. Occasionally I’ll have dreams where I am just an observer – not even an active participant, just watching events play out, like watching a movie. I always enjoy and find myself fascinated by those dreams.
In the dream that inspired this song I was just an observer, but as I write in the song – still I could feel, and I felt everything I was observing. When I woke I was reminded that I do have a body. I am a body. And in those days I was dealing with some chronic pain, particularly in my ankle and my hip – tracing back to a skateboarding injury from several years before. I’d had some medical attention and physical therapy and the condition had improved, but I still live with some chronic and recurring pain and soreness.
So I wrote two movements into the short song – one from inside the dream, an escape and vacation from the body, a place where I could still be conscious but free from the difficulties associated with having one – and then I wake up, feel the heaviness, feel the pain, and recognize that although my body is not doing very well, I still have the will to go on.
“No Body”
Dreamt that I had
Had no body
Still I could feel
And I felt I didn't need it
I had no head
I kept thinkin
I had no eyes but I did see
The whole scene
I woke up
Felt my body falling apart
Felt my wrists aching down to the bone
I've got the will to go on
I find my bod falling apart
My leg aching from hip to toe
I've got the will to go on
I'll push at all costs
Tinder Babies
After years of performing with The Planet Of this has become essentially my most well-known and most requested song. It has to be one of my most ridiculous songs, written from one simple premise -a question I had been asking for years before writing this in 2017: how many Tinder babies are there in the world? By Tinder babies I mean babies born from parents who met on Tinder.
I first learned about Tinder in Bethlehem, Palestine of all places. I was staying at the site of an eco farming project where I met a new friend from Brazil who was volunteering with the farm. I remember we went out for dinner in a small group and as we waited for food he took out his phone and told us he had been collecting pictures from Tinder of women whose profiles had machine guns in them. In Israel it is a requirement to join the military and for those doing their mandatory service it is a requirement to look after your assigned weapon at all times. What this leads to in day-to-day life is seeing groups of young people in and out of uniform gathering at cafés, restaurants, walking down streets, waiting for buses – with their assigned weapons on them at all times. As my new friend had discovered, it led to young women on their dating profiles posing with their weapons. Think the Israeli equivalent to dudes with big fish. He must’ve had close to 20 screenshots of women in their late teens and 20s taking selfies in uniform with their weapons. This was the first time I ever heard about Tinder. We had some good laughs about how casual the automatic weapon had become – like an accessory in otherwise cute and attractive photos. This would’ve been back in early 2014.
By 2017 when I actually wrote this song, the question of how many Tinder babies there were had become less funny and absurd, and more of a basic reality. More and more people were meeting their partners through dating apps. I knew many people having regular hookups with people from Tinder and heard a few stories about people sticking together – and/or getting knocked up. It seemed like the main means of meeting people for a time. I began to imagine a future where kids would talk about how their parents met, and it would become the exception for a kid to say that their parents met organically or “IRL”.
One thing that greatly inspired writing the song when I did was one of my roommates at the studio – a musician who kept his lockout where he practiced and lived full-time. I would regularly see him on his way in or out with a new lady by his side, sometimes two or three different women in a week. At some point I asked him what the deal was and he said Tinder. For sociological reasons I asked him how it worked. He explained it simply: when he would match with somebody he’d ask them if they were down to meet up. If they wanted to meet up earlier in the day it meant they wanted to get to know him first. But if they were down to meet up at night it essentially meant they were open to a hookup – He said “Most times when you meet you can just start macking on them” His words on the mechanics of Tinder hookups inspired the middle section of the song. Essentially direct quotes.
The song begins with a mom and dad-to-be swiping right on each other and meeting up to dance all night – then asks the question: how many Tinder babes are there in the world? The bridge explains the rules as spoken by my Tinder-expert friend. Then the song takes a turn – my sonic vision in the section where I repeat “swipe swipe swipe” and the ‘babies’ begin to cry was that as people swipe, babies are born. The more we swipe the more babies are born. Ending with the repeated calls of the babies, children, and adults of the future who are all Tinder babies. “I’m a tinder baby”
Again – this is my most well known and requested song. What does that say about me as an “artist”?
“Tinder Babies”
Lady swiped left
Homie swiped right
How will you swipe
When you get the chance
Mama swiped right
Daddy swiped right
They met up
And they danced all night
How many tinder babes in the world today
How many tinder babes in the world today
How many tinder babes in the world today
How many tinder babes in the world
If you're gonna meet a babe
And y'all set the clock late
You know what they want (they want it)
You don't gotta ask (they want it)
If they set it to the afternoon
First they wanna get to know ya
But most times when you meet em
You can get straight get straight to just
Macking on that tinder babe
Tinder babes
Tinder babies
Swipe swipe swipe
Swipe swipe swipe
How many tinder babies in the world today
How many tinder babies in the world today
How many tinder babies in the world today
How many tinder babies in the world
I'm a tinder baby (x many)
The Challenge
Another short song, clocking in at 1:22. At this point we were getting into the later part of the challenge and I had time to understand just how much it had come to consume my time and energy. It truly became my main focus – the last thing I would think about before I fell asleep and the first thing I thought about in the morning. Whatever song I was working on at any given time was at the forefront of my thoughts. If I wasn’t playing or writing actively then I was listening – listening to a voice memo, listening to an early demo on repeat until more ideas came. It definitely began to feel unsustainable. Attempting to do this for a few weeks is one thing, but I could not live my life this way. Everything in moderation, including songwriting. Before I had any music I wrote out most of the lines. It’s a song written about the thing it was written for.
“The Challenge”
The challenge
Is my day job
Is my tether
The challenge
Is my lover
Is my muse
The challenge
What tucks me in at night
And springs me out of bed in the morning
The challenge
It consumes me
Elemental
An example of grabbing an interesting thread and pulling on it even if it doesn’t reach a particularly satisfying conclusion. The song is in five and has an interesting groove – I enjoy the odd time riffing – but I never felt too attached to it. I always felt I would return and get it more fleshed out, particularly the last section, but I never got there and I’m not sure I ever will.
What these challenges do is muster a different kind of focus – one that allows me to take one idea and go far with it, often to surprising places. Elemental didn’t quite get there. It stands as an unfinished idea, and that’s fine. Not every song needs to be something.
“Elemental”
Where The People At?
Across this entry I talk about how consumed I was with the challenge, but I was still getting out and about – socializing, playing a couple of gigs, remaining with some presence in the world. One day a friend invited me out for a hike in the Claremont Hills. We enjoyed a hike on a beautiful sunny summer day and at some point we stopped and looked out over the neighborhood below – almost entirely still, empty and motionless. Hundreds of homes on the most picture-perfect beautiful day, not a single person walking on the street, riding a bike or walking a dog, no kids playing outside. From what I could tell every door and window was shut, blinds drawn. The only sign of life was one mail truck driving slowly down the road. It felt surreal. The neighborhood looked like a model – a facade, staged.
This was something that would often occur to me while living in the Inland Empire, between Upland and Ontario. Driving around on a beautiful morning or afternoon, seeing green parks with benches and playgrounds entirely empty. Most everywhere else I had ever spent time, good weather was treated like a luxury, a fleeting gift not to be squandered. People would gather in public spaces, sit and talk, play outside their homes. No park empty, no street still and lifeless.
During the challenge I would take breaks and go walking around the streets of Ontario at any hour of the night or morning, listening to whatever song I was working on on repeat, writing or editing lines and taking notes to continue when I returned to the studio. I still do that. These days I’m more often in the forest or at the beach while I’m editing, listening and writing- but the process is the same. I remember working on this song specifically – I took a walk around Ontario and had that same feeling- where are all the people at?? Sure it was nighttime but knowing that tens of thousands of people were living all around, and seeing not one car, not one person on the street but me. It always felt a bit dystopian and apocalyptic.
That night feeling made itself into the lyrics and the vibe of the song. I went out and recorded night sounds from the empty streets around Rad Pro – crickets, buzzing from power lines. You can hear it in the middle breakdown section and the ending. Where are all the people at?
“Where Are All The People At?”
Long wide streets
Quietly
Buzzing only with the sounds of electricity
One car strolls down
Down the boulevard
Lonely post man
Delivers to nobody
Where are all the people at
Where are all the people at
Where are all the people at
Where are all the people at
Where is everybody
There isn't a soul outside
Cars all parked
In their right spaces
Houses painted many shades
With windows shut and doors locked up
Sky is mighty clear today
A calm breeze sweeps through the valley
Making trees dance in their plots
And their leaves blow through empty parks and playgrounds
From our perch
On sunburnt slopes
We view the suburb
Countless homes
Sitting calmly
A silent neighborhood
We must wonder
Where are all the people at
Clip Show
Nostalgia is a hell of a drug. I can be very nostalgic and spend plenty of time thinking about the past. I definitely spend much more time thinking about the past than the future.
This song was written almost in a similar vein to Been Missing except in this one instead of getting together with a friend to reminisce and get caught up – we’re strictly getting together to indulge in our shared past. I think this was written in response to a feeling that would come when I got together with old friends from the distant past. At times I would get the feeling that the person seeing me was expecting me to be the person they knew then – not really interested in getting caught up with the last years, wanting to receive me as they’ve always known me and play out this clip show. Telling old stories, speaking about people we knew in common, as if to resurrect ourselves and feel that our past meant something.
The song was written in this dark, dreary tone to express the dull monotony I feel when I find myself in this type of dynamic. I don’t believe we should be defined by our past. I’m much more interested in what’s happening now. I am not who I was. When all we can connect about is the past it’s a sign that our connection is essentially lost – or at least that there is an unwillingness to connect in the present, as we are today. This song is the anthem for those who choose to live in a state of suspended past.
“Clip Show”
Let's get together and tell old stories
Shut our eyes and slip away with portraits from our history
We'll narrate the pictures as they play out on our eyelids
Open up and let a comfy ache seep in
Let's get together let's get reminiscent
Picking out the details and dusting off our memories
With a thousand words each we can go hog wild
We could live fully in the glory of the past
We could be a clip show
We could be a picture book
We could be the keepers of the story of the past
We could be a clip show
We could be a picture book
We could be the storytellers
Don’t Talk To Me About Pizza
This is a total joke song. Eventually it became a staple in the live sets with The Planet Of. I would often introduce it as the anthem of an angry straight edge vegan, which is essentially what it is – in the song I’m just pissed off about people talking about and posting about beer and burgers and pizza and all the things that everyone seems to love except me, the non-meat-and-cheese-eating, non-beer-drinking grump.
I love the riffs in this song. Maybe someday I would rewrite this with some actual lyrics that have more sense or purpose, but as it stands the silly ‘straightedgevegan’ anthem remains.
For the music I was inspired by a sort of psychedelic surf punk band that I saw at some late-night speakeasy a few months before the challenge. I decided to do a parody performance of angry punk vocals which I didn’t put a whole lot of effort into – you’ll hear it on the recording.
In general I hang onto the basic assumption that music does not have to be serious. I would even go so far as to say that music is not serious, and further than that, neither is life itself for that matter. I don’t believe that a joke song has less value or validity than something written earnestly. I find it’s a healthy practice to tap into different parts of my psyche and emotions and write from different places. Especially in doing such an undertaking as writing and recording a song every day, there isn’t a lot of room for doubt. Find a thread that feels interesting and follow it to the end, even if it’s absurd and ridiculous. It’s relieving to write from a place of fun, experimentation and humor without any pressure to create something serious.
“Don’t Talk To Me About Pizza“
Don't talk to me about pizza
Don't talk to me about cheese
Don't talk to me about pepperonies
Don't talk to me
Don't talk to me about burgers
Don't talk to me about ground meat
Don't talk to me about bacon
Don't talk to me
Don't talk to me about donuts
Don't talk to me about dough
Don't talk to me about soda
I don't wanna know
You are what you eat
Please try to keep it down
You stuff it in your face
Turn your diet into sounds
Turn your pizza into pictures
And your pictures into posts
I don't want to see
What you're stuffing in your throat
Don't talk to me about liquor
Don't talk to me about beer
Don't talk to me about pizza
I don't wanna hear
Face Stealer
This one is a bit of a departure. It stands with only a couple other songs in my catalog as being inspired not by events of my life or observations, not by dreams or my internal world, but from a character – in this case a character from a show.
I don’t spend a lot of time sitting down and watching TV but I’m often working through a show – maybe just a few minutes at a time when I stop to eat or at the very end of the night before I fall asleep. During the time of the songwriting challenge I was watching Avatar: The Last Airbender for the first time. For any Avatar fans – I watched Legend of Korra first, which apparently is sacrilege. A friend was watching it, I got into it, finished it, and immediately started The Last Airbender right around the start of the challenge.
This song is written about, Koh the face stealer, a spirit that does exactly what the name suggests – steals faces.
“The spirit’s name is Koh, but he is very dangerous. They call him the Face Stealer. When you speak with him, you must be very careful to show no emotion at all. Not the slightest expression, or he will steal your face.“
Something about this character and the idea behind its powers really interested and terrified me. I was asking myself how I could manage being in a situation like that – facing a powerful and dangerous entity without being able to show any kind of emotion, no fear, no worry, no shock or surprise. I can be stoic but as a matter of life and death I can’t mask my emotion that well.
I watched this episode during the challenge and it inspired me to write this song.
“Face Stealer”
Beware
The face stealer
Show no worry
Show no fear
Show no worry
Show no fear
Beware
The face stealer
Show sadness
Show no tears
Show no anger
Show no fear
Show no joy
Show no surprise
Show no joy
Show no surprise
Beware
The face stealer
Forty Thousand Spirits
I grew up in Los Angeles County but never lived in Los Angeles proper. Over my years in Southern California I was mostly between Los Angeles and the Inland Empire, primarily around the San Gabriel Valley.
I remember in my early travels meeting people who didn’t know too much about the realities of life in the United States. One woman I met at a pub in London said “you’re from LA so your parents must be pretty wealthy then?” I was surprised – my mom is a lifelong waitress, my dad worked in a factory that produced baked goods. She said all she knew about LA was Hollywood and celebrities so she just assumed anyone who lived there must be rich. On the other hand, I’ve heard from multiple people who were shocked on their first visit to the US to arrive in Los Angeles and witness the extreme level of poverty on display. An Australian man told me he had been traveling in Asia just before arriving in the US and the level of homelessness reminded him of what he had seen in countries that would be referred to as “Third World.” He was not expecting that at all from one of the most powerful and wealthy countries on earth.
Growing up there I guess it’s a thing you take for granted, but after traveling – especially in Europe – and returning, it became very clear. I noticed it more and more over the years, in places I hadn’t noticed it before. Not only on Skid Row or around the streets of downtown Los Angeles, where parks and public spaces are fenced up for “construction” in areas with high volumes of people living outside, and high-rise buildings keep security employed to push away unsavory characters from their doors and steps. The cities I spent the most time in – Pasadena, Arcadia, Temple City, Glendora, Azusa, Ontario, Upland – always had some homeless population, but as the years went on, I see more and more every time I visit. People lined up on freeway off-ramps, asking for money and assistance. Tents along the freeways. Encampments anywhere people can be left alone.
I talked with social workers who worked in LA on programs in education and public health and heard firsthand accounts where when homelessness was brought up the topic was quickly dismissed – as if it were too far gone, broken beyond repair, the funding isn’t there, no viable short or long-term solutions to the reality that tens of thousands of people live without permanent shelter. I spent time on the street, had conversations and interactions with unhoused people, shared food, drink and smoke with them. I heard stories of addiction, prostitution, abuse at the hands of police, other unhoused people, and civilians. I heard stories of tragic life circumstances that led people to survive outside.
I’ll admit that I’ve been quite sheltered over the last decade. I live in a small town with a low population – even then there are people living outside, but the entire population in my area is still a fraction of the homeless population in Los Angeles.
During the challenge I was inspired to write about all of this, to put some of my feelings about everything I had seen into a song. I was looking at articles to get a number of how many people were living on the streets in LA and one article estimated around 40,000. A quick search right now still shows around 40,000+ in the city of Los Angeles, up to 70,000+ across LA County.
There were people I saw during that time who directly inspired scenes and images within the song – the sun-soaked man with the hat, squinting as he picked through a large mound of trash, seen while exiting the highway around the city. A woman with a sign that said exactly what I wrote into the song: anything helps, even a smile. I smiled at her. When I was doing well – even when I wasn’t – I would often stop and offer food, change or whatever I had.
I don’t have a nest egg or 401k, I don’t have money in savings. What I do have is family, friends and community – and with that there is some buffer. If I lost my place to live I know people would take me in. I’m in good health. I can work many different jobs. I’m not addicted to drugs. My mental health is mostly sound. I don’t view any of these things as great achievements fought for and earned – they are circumstantial, brought on by the good graces of chance. And good luck always runs out. Time and time again I’ve been disturbed by how little acknowledgment or empathy some people will extend to those living with less. I’ve heard people speak so badly about the homeless population – with genuine disdain, maybe even hatred. “If they didn’t want to be homeless they should’ve made better choices.” “It’s not too late for them to get a job and clean up their act.” “If they had only worked as hard as the rest of us.” We speak like this and worship politicians and celebrities as models of success, ideal versions of ourselves, of what our lives could be – but I see that we are so much closer to the woman on the side of the highway with a sign in her hands than to the people we put on pedestals. My theory is that there is a subconscious understanding of this – that to see so many people in such desperate situations leads to a sense of insecurity and creates a scarcity mentality and predatory nature in people. We cling to what we have, our precious resources. But as I wrote into this song – they’re just a bill away.
During the challenge, with all these thoughts and feelings in mind, I wrote Forty Thousand Spirits. Nearly ten years later, no closer to any solution or widespread initiative to prevent and end homelessness – here it is, still as relevant as the day I wrote it.
“Forty Thousand Spirits”
A skinny man sits utop a pile of trash
His eyes won't open all the way
The suns got him squint-in he's wearing his hat
As cars try to pass without making contact
King of the mountain
Mountain of trash
Being burned by the sun
In their cars, the drivers believe
They've got places to go
They've got places to go people to be and so little time
People to be so little time and so little money
While they try to merge they avoid eye contact cause they can't afford it
How often we witness our brothers living out on the street
Sleeping in boxes and tents all around the city
In parks and tunnels off highways and roads
At least the sun shines year round
You spend winter sleeping on the ground
Forty thousand spirits
Left out on the streets tonight
Those who stay inside fear it
Life without their sweet delights
Security
Precious resources
A bill away
On the local off ramp
A woman stands with a sign in her hands
It says God bless anything helps
Even a smile
If these parts were happy
She'd be in business
Most folks look away
One day I stopped
I gave her some fruit
She said let me tell you a story
There is a saltine that broke the soup
It's got salt that feeds who eats
Yet forgets and forsakes the hungry
It's got a hand that stirs the slop
Some spills out over the top
And goes beyond where we can not reach
We can swim to the edge to hold ourselves up
Give rest to our legs to gather our strength and take a breath
To sail back to the spoon
There's a spoon that picks us up
Blows on us to cool us off
It gives us kisses and some day will eat us whole
Hmm is that so
Yes and sir do you have a cigarette
Forty thousand spirits
Sleep out on the streets tonight
Those who stay inside fear it
Life without their sweet delights
Security
Precious resources
A bill away
Can't pay
No water for you
Can't pay
No shelter for you
Can't pay
No power for you
Can't pay
You'll be out on your own
Hicks
I have yet to write about this in the archive, but I am a massive fan of comedy. As an audience member I’ve likely attended more live comedy shows than concerts in my life. My older brother has performed in improv for decades, and one of the great highlights of my generally miserable teenage years was tagging along to improv and sketch comedy shows around Los Angeles – most notably at the Groundlings Theater and UCB, the Upright Citizens Brigade where I would go to laugh my ass off weekly.
This song is inspired by the stand up comedian Bill Hicks. I wouldn’t put him at the top of my favorite comedians these days – I find some of his material hasn’t aged very well and I think a lot of it would illicit more clapter than laughter. But I find him to be an inspiring, if not tragic, figure. He was younger than I am now when he died, and he died just before a massive explosion of opportunities and recognition that came for comedians in the 90s. He didn’t really live to get his flowers. In his short life he held strong positions and took a stand against what he viewed as inauthentic and corrupt in our culture – entertainment, commercialism, politics, the social and political topics of the time. Coming from a conservative Southern background he traveled far down his own path pursuing stand-up, but also writing and recording songs, writing poetry. I found his material very cathartic at a time where I was very angry with the world but hadn’t yet escaped into the freedom of adulthood. Some bits still hold up. He seemed to lean harder into bitterness as the years went on, but I love some of the material he put out at the end of his life, especially when he pulled back the angry facade and spoke about truth and goodness in this world.
During the 2017 song-a-day challenge I wrote a song inspired by my favorite comedians, ultimately dedicated to Bill Hicks. I’m sad to see the state of comedy today where the concept of the truth-telling comedian has been co-opted by corporate-sponsored right-wing comics such as Joe Rogan, who actually seem to be influencing social and political thought in favor of those in power. I imagine Bill Hicks would have had extreme contempt for that. I have respect and admiration for anyone willing to go onto a stage and try to make people laugh – and to do it in a way that challenges us, makes us look at things a little differently, and invites us to laugh at the absurdity of our human lives.
“Hicks”
Truth can be a pain
In our distorted world
In the quest for truthfulness
Some minds go beyond
With a reach that has no bounds
With a reach that has no bounds
Some minds go beyond
They learn the fact from fiction
They bare and fuse the pain
With sharp communication
They turn our misery to comedy
They become ambassadors
Champions of honesty
They become ambassadors
Make us laugh our asses off (Ha ha ha)
Dear Bill
We miss you
In this crowded world
So full of bull
You cut straight through
Speaking truth
Without fear
Without regret
We thank you
Dear Bill
Unplugged (Unfinished – finished July 2018)
This is a song I didn’t feel settled with at the time of the 2017 challenge. I submitted a demo that was underdeveloped and felt unfinished to me. I no longer have that demo — I brought it back during the July 2018 challenge and finished it then. That’s the only version that exists now. (Link to July 2018 entry will go here later)
Expressing Frustration At Soundcloud
I had always thought of this as a throwaway and considered not including it in the article at all. But I found the audio file, listened through it, transcribed the lyrics and actually like it more than I remembered. It works as a time capsule – reminding me just how bad the SoundCloud app used to be.
In 2017 I couldn’t check messages, comments or lyrics on the iOS app and would need to log into the browser version on a computer to access any of it – which was very frustrating, especially when I was using it daily and there was a big social component to the song-a-day group. People were constantly reacting and leaving comments on each other’s SoundCloud submissions. Also at that time I was reading articles talking about how SoundCloud was potentially going out of business, and that Chance the Rapper was in talks to purchase it and revive it. My commentary on the track includes nods to that, as well as a handful of user requests for an app update and the scripted responses from SoundCloud agents saying they were working on the updates – despite it having been years with no update.
The robot voice you hear in the middle of the song was generated from copying and pasting a typical SoundCloud spam message of the time.
SoundCloud these days is not perfect. It never really returned to its glory days. The ads are frustrating – I stopped using it for a couple of years and recently began uploading my demos there again. There’s a convenience I’m willing to pay for, but I find that for others sitting through ads to listen to my music is very off-putting. I’ll probably move away from it again once I can figure out another means. In any case, I’m shocked that after all these years they actually updated the app and I can do lyrics and comments now – although I don’t think I can check messages, but that’s okay because most of the messages I receive are spam anyway. That hasn’t changed.
I don’t think it’s one of the better songs from this challenge or my catalog in general, but it serves as a time capsule for something I had entirely forgotten. For that, I appreciate it.
“Expressing Frustration At Soundcloud”
I stay up all night
Writing tunes singing to a cheap mic
I am a lonely engineer
Been hoarding my tunes for many years
Now I’ve broken my silent spell
And sent some tunes to float in the soundcloud
SoundCloud in the soundcloud
SoundCloud app for ios
Is a pile of shit/ish
Without steam or a fly on it
Just a plain old shit
Can’t comment can’t leave any messages
Can’t even read these words
On the SoundCloud
(It was meant to be updated three years ago)
Most my likes are spam likes
But i keep posting songs
Is there anybody with a body listening
Why should i go on
SoundCloud app for ios
Is a pile of shit/ish
Without steam or a fly on it
Just a plain old shit
Destination Fever
The last song I completed for the challenge. After nearly a month of obsessive writing and recording, I went out with one more instrumental – very guitar-heavy, definitely inspired by the kind of instrumental guitar music I became obsessed with in my mid to late teens. Namely Paul Gilbert.
There’s a story behind the guitar I used to record it. I bought it cheap off OfferUp – maybe $150 – and it was one of the only guitars I’ve ever had with a tremolo on it. Some kind of knockoff Bigsby. For anyone who doesn’t know, the tremolo on a guitar is a piece of hardware that lets you make the notes go WEEOOHWEEOOHWEE and WAHWAHWAHWAHWAHWAH. Great fun.
I started playing with the tremolo and the song just started pouring out one riff at a time. Sadly, not long after getting the guitar I had the bright idea to upgrade the neck – bought a nice Fender neck off OfferUp – which led to me taking the guitar apart less than two weeks after I got it, dropping it off at a friend’s house to set up, and then discovering the neck didn’t fit the body. By that point I was already off to Oregon. The original neck got lost. I wouldn’t see the guitar again for almost ten years. Even now I have the body and that neck but it’s never gone back together because the original is lost and I haven’t found a proper replacement.
That guitar was used for exactly one song and one recording session. Then I took it apart and ruined it.
Destination Fever was the final song I completed for that challenge. And just days later I would begin one of the greatest voyages of my life – the one that led me to Port Orford, and eventually to this.
“Destination Fever”
ericprincessdragon 
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