dear reader,

it’s been a while, truly. august is largely a month off, which for the first week has meant a combination of rest and working steadily at all sorts of things i’ve meant to do for a long time.

one thing i’m not doing is songwriting. for me, that creative process is a pretty long pipeline, generally begun in this sort of sleeper phase where the world is unequivocally inspiring and provocative, and ideas seem constantly to swirl around me. during this time, my facility for language seems to increase, and i largely do nothing to work on songs. intermittently i’ll get a big chunk of music that feels urgent, and i immediately work it out on some instrument, but in these early stages it’s more often than not forgotten.
it’s only in the last stages of songwriting that i actually say, ‘ok, let’s write the verses, plan the structure,’ etc. since the writing timeframe for our single releases was so condensed, the spring and summer felt like one long session of this last phase, often with no early stages preceding at all.
if you have no idea what i’m talking about, just imagine some kind of weird groundhog day in which you repeatedly write a research paper in one draft without having actually done any research; alternately, you might picture yourself starring in a movie, only you have no idea who your character is, where the plot is going, or even the title of the film, and haven’t read the script. you read your lines off cue cards as the scene is being filmed. shooting goes on for months in this fashion.

all that to say, i’m experiencing a prolonged feeling of relief to just have a few weeks off to let some words tumble around in brain, work on my guitar rig, and spend time with people i really like who are not actually members of good, night states, like my wife. this is the break i thought i’d get in july, but didn’t.
the world is exciting again. i’m rediscovering positive emotions, and even, perhaps, a modicum of optimism (at least one of my bandmates undoubtedly just read that and came to some harm, perhaps by coffee traveling through his or her nose).

as evidence of (and segue from) this, i found myself in a political discussion of sorts with a good friend yesterday in which i appeared as the hopeful, ideologically relaxed one. (for those of you who haven’t met me, understand: karl marx is more ideologically relaxed than me, and he has a manifesto.)

the one sensory experience that seems consistently to burst in on my happy, conceptual peace is the constant barrage of evidence and indication that our country has completely lost its fair-mindedness and most of its rationality. mostly, i’m talking about the trend in political rhetoric of just about everyone using moral terms to describe a need for the government to make laws that benefit him or her. special-interest government is fascism. totalitarianism is still totalitarianism even if it’s the will of the majority.
granted, those coercive means of distributing resources (whether to the many or the few) in our country are not likely to change, but for goodness’ sake stop talking about them in terms of right and wrong. this is not a partisan complaint. everybody needs to shut up.
the last straw of late, it just so happens, are these preposterously undertaken congressional hearings with oil company executives. basically, if you haven’t followed them, these sessions have consisted of various congressman attempting to make some of the most powerful businessmen in the world feel bad or something. (don’t worry, it’s all being paid for by you and me.) congress may need to make a bunch of laws to take money away from oil companies and spread it out in camden or whatever (although i might suggest they start by just removing the inappropriate tax breaks for said corporations, i.e., stop GIVING them money), but once again, i submit: we have no need for political maneuverings in which nothing is done, blame is ritually assigned and re-assigned, representatives preen and posture and demonstrate their apparent concern for constituents, and the highest of horses are led out to bear political interest more disgusting than the lucre on trial.

we are quickly becoming a society that protects the opportunities of its populace to make money, and attempts to punish people who take advantage of those opportunities. a more schizophrenic premise i can barely devise.

if only, if only, if only my annoyance could somehow serve a creative purpose. it seems a waste, as an artist, to not write some hallowed protest song. somehow these feelings, equally as strong as the euphoric ones, find a different channel in my brain and never end up in the ‘hey, maybe i should write a song about this’ category (actual name of mental folder).

at the end of the day, though, i’m glad that’s the way it is. ultimately my complaints about our country and government are just that: complaining. the action, the reality, the change we hear so much about these days, is not and never will be legislated. it’s person to person, nuts-and-bolts, voting-with-your-wallet-and-putting-your-money-where-your-mouth-is.

the hope of these days is that in a few weeks i’ll have some songs to remind myself, and maybe a few other folks, of that.

in the meantime, thanks for reading.

try and imagine those three words in a triangle.

dear reader,

“she wrote a letter” was probably the most difficult single yet to mix. hopefully it’s not the most difficult to listen to. (actually, i’m listening to it right now, on our site. i’m always on our site now because i accidentally dragged my gmail bookmark right off the bar, and the good night, states bookmark is now where the gmail one was. imagine the confusion.)

yesterday i had a sudden influx of free time, which in some way, shape or form, is what most of my posts seem to be about lately, and which i knew then to be short-lived, certainly, so i spent it editing this long overdue video. i promise you will either find it charming or absolutely terrifying and not at all funny, in an understated way. anyway, you should watch it and share it, because i’m sure one of my band mates will make me take it down soon.

as is often the case, i was in the midst of mania inspired by mixing last week. i think it’s part of human nature for lows and highs to accentuate each other, mostly because emotions are generally dependent on perception (which for human beans is not real objective on the whole); and if said ups & downs are right next to each other, then you’ve got something really, really special.
again, well-tread ground on this blog is the fact that mixing creates that for me all on its own, regardless of whatever personal equanimity or lack thereof i’ve got, because of the process. unusually, though, the most memorable moment of last week’s blur is one of real euphoria; and like all truly great bouts of euphoria in my life, it was also a moment of great clarity.

(let me take another sip of coffee to really settle into an ironic tone.) that clarity was clearly exhibited last wednesday as i drove down the hills of allendale road quite a bit too fast, singing/screaming “OH YEAH!” on the way to my 3.30 session. it seemed like the only thing to do. you see, “she wrote a letter,” is really about (drum roll, please… ) CHANGE, in all it’s difficulty and destruction and most of all beautiful elation. freedom, people. fo rill.
i’m tired pretty much all the time now. joe’s theory is that no matter how careful we are, the in-between week is not long enough to catch up from the weekend. ever. that’s probably true, and i think it’s also true that a lot of my fatigue is really internal. in any case, the song reminded me just in time that nobody has to stay where they are–if marilee changed her dollars for pesos, her DMs for euros, baby, then man i can, too. specifics will die, nay are even now fading away. embrace the nothing-permanent.

without the details, of course, i’ve got no kind of dialectic, but that’s ok. i traded it for freedom.

ps. ok, SERIOUSLY, watch the video.

dear reader,

feels like the home stretch here. i sat here mixing for so long yesterday i don’t even want to do the math. on saturday, two very good friends are getting married (to each other, no less!), and i’ve got quite a bit more preparation to do for the pieces i’ll be playing.

but let me just celebrate for a moment with you. i’m really happy with “good times, so wearily desired!,” and i sincerely hope you’ll give it a listen (the in the impossible tension tracks have been moved in the player and are after the short films songs. you can do it. you can find it).

it turns out that working on songs very quickly goes a long way towards precluding the crafting of messages i usually try to do as a songwriter. this track, consequently, is maybe a bit more candid in some ways than most. granted, allyson still doesn’t know what it’s about, but she did say, “does it have something to do with proust?,” which is really pretty insightful/awesome. [earlier versions of the lyrics actually included proust AND his madeleine (!), but it just sounded too weird. (raise your hand if you have no idea what i’m talking about.)]

WARNING: THE FOLLOWING IS A LONG, PHILOSOPHICAL EXPLANATION OF THE PREVIOUS PARAGRAPH WITH LITERARY REFERENCES. IF YOUR FACE BEGINS TO HURT OR YOU ARE PREGNANT, SKIP IT.
the story runs thus: i had come across the original english title of marcel proust’s famous work, which i believe is remembrance of things past. it struck me because, although sort of pretty, it doesn’t have the strength or provocation of in search of lost time, which is more of a translation of the french title (i think there’s a later english version with that name). naturally, any confusion/comments/complaints/suggestions in the gretz household regarding proust are directly put to our resident proust expert, allyson. come to think of it, she’s the only expert on the subject i know–resident or otherwise.
the significant part of this is really the conversation that allyson and i had about proust’s re-experiencing of the past, and the questions it naturally raised for me. is it possible to remember ANYTHING factually, without re-interpreting the experience? can one even trust his memory, consequently? the more personal counterpoint is that nearly all memory has a sort of negative emotional screen for me, which is probably why i emphasize the interpretational aspect of “memory.”
END WARNING.

so, “good times, so wearily desired!” is a song that shares my experience of and outlook on memory, or at least part of it. the lyrics should be up pretty soon. you should probably disagree with what the songs says, ultimately, but you should also bop along to the consumer electronics of yesteryear.

oh, yeah, the celebration. i kinda got sidetracked there. well, i gotta go, but YOU should have a beer.

happy 15th.

dear reader,

good morning. by the time i post this, many of you will probably be at work, or on your way. did you forget anything?

i admit to some pretty continual confusion about where all of my gear is (pittsburgh? ramsey? the coat closet?), but that certainly can’t quite account for what joe and i did last friday morning.
we were running pretty late, heading out to the ‘burgh to write “sometimes i see you on the lawn” and finish recording “she wrote a letter.” on our way out we perused our in the impossible tension rig, which in our defense is a pretty intense mix of junk electronics, labyrinthine routing, and recording equipment, and joe asked obligatorily, “do we need any of this stuff?”

“no,” i said, car running and clock ticking. “i think we have everything.”

this is the scene where all the footage is fast-forwarded. (actually, we had a really nice trip. joe drove so i could work on the song a bit more, and later on 28, so i could play him eagles songs on the guitar. although he didn’t know that.)
in fact, everything would be fast-forwarded, AND the screen would be split so you could see megan’s repeated communications with katie white (yeah, katie white!) to secure a piano for recording “she wrote a letter,” of course all while i fudged my way through “the greeks don’t want no freaks.”

so jt pulled up to the bakers’, opened the door, and reached back for his jar of peanuts. i don’t really like the ones with paprika. he got this real slow, deep smile, like he does.
“we are so stupid,” he says. “SO STUPID.” following his meaningful looks to the pile of equipment in the back seat, i get a sinking feeling.

this is the part where it’d cut to a flashback, and i’d see ALL THE RECORDING EQUIPMENT sitting there among the casios in nj. maybe the music would swirl up in dark, forboding washes that make the viewer wonder with a deepening sense of dread, WHO WILL THE KILLER GET NEXT!?

joe, of course, starts laughing. “look at me casually eating peanuts! this is so funny!”

at this point trevor walks out his front door and waves once from the porch. we look at him, and back to the peanuts. joe just laughs more.

“EVERYTHING is funny when you’re so casually eating peanuts,” he roars. “Here, you have to have one!”

“oh, man.” i take one. stupid paprika.

epilogue: good night, states, continued on to a productive songwriting-only weekend, and planned to finish “she wrote a letter” in two weeks. megan caused a miniature explosion that launched a needle into joe’s leg, dan napped a bit in the sunshine, trevor did GNS computer-related stuff that i don’t really understand, and joe recovered sufficiently to consume 1.5 chicken fried rices from tram’s, as did i. flat, gluten-free bread was baked in the meadow where all the characters would eventually frolic unto the forgetfulness of the disrepair into which has fallen their family’s estate and which will certainly be undone by their forthcoming marriage to the wealthy and upstanding Mr. Max Harding; NOT the forgetfulness that leaves you 400 miles from your recording gear.

ps. just a friendly reminder–we’ve got track two of in the impossible tension coming out on thursday. it’s great. for those of you who had a little trouble getting into “arsonist’s blues,” this will be easier. i promise.

pps. a couple of folks have confessed personally to me being behind with the internet releases. i understand, but people, it’s only gonna get worse from here. if you haven’t downloaded “there is a treasure” yet, do it NOW. (please.)

ppps. if you did forget your lunch today, go to franktuary.

pppps. oh yeah, and i beat tetris again. those dancers are awesome.

dear reader,

no time for the rambling musings you’ve come to expect of my posts. gotta get this label submission to the post office (they still take hard copy–isn’t that the craziest?) before i go to work.

the title here goes out to megan and joe, and for the rest of you is from a bout of recording-induced delirium on saturday. there’s really nothing to get.

recording… oh yeah. so, joe and i are going to be finishing some songs over the rest of the spring as part of a gn,s ep called “in the impossible tension.” probably not all of the songs will make it onto the site as singles, but then again, maybe they will. the first one is going up tomorrow, and it’s called “arsonist’s blues.” it’s the best.

i think i mentioned this in my last post, but this brings our track-release schedule to a ridiculous once-every-two-weeks (whether that’s biweekly or semi-weekly, i’ll never know; someone comment and tell me!). part of the reason we’re doing it is to build a listenership, and if you’re reading this, we need your help doing that! any band stupid enough to try and write, record and mix a song every two weeks is clearly a conversation piece, right? right.

well, thanks. i knew i could count on you guys.

ps. if you’re a prayin’ man (or woman), pray that jude cole and keifer sutherland would give us a record deal. i am not making this up.