I've made two decisions lately: 1)to start writing these again; and 2)to give them whatever title just occurs to me, rather than just naming it after the day of the week. Yesterday was, admittedly, to see if I could get Facebook's goat. But it feels like a nice change. Sometimes the slightest change is good just by virtue of being something different.
And as far as getting Facebook's goat, I guess I'll just have to try harder..
Music news. Working on an intro to Giant Steps. I recorded one which I may put up on Facebook, but it's kinda sloppy. Got a half-assed idea involving major 7 arpeggios, being as the A section is made up of two such patterns. I dunno. We'll see.
Also working on some of my recorded music here in the Lab. Much like the work of a Mad Scientist, only I'm combining tunes rather than potions. I was trying to finish up one old project that got interrupted by life this year and it's turning into two. Musical mitosis..
One is in this sorta fusion/smooth style my home stuff falls into, and the other one is more straight-ahead jazz. So my stuff is going into two piles. Hopefully, two new recordings will emerge from the rubble.
I have a lot of fun puttering here in the Lab. Much like a Workshop(I've heard that many non-musicians have them), only instead of saws and hammers, I have keyboards and guitars and recording equipment. What I refer to as my makeshift home studio.
Still planning to do another solo guitar album, which will be done at someone else's less makeshift studio. And I'd love to do another one with a bass player and drummer. But for now, I'm just tying up some loose ends.
The title of today's blog is one of my tunes I hope to work up. It's been sitting around since 1985 or so. Playing Houston TX, a place we spent a lot of time in when I was on the road. We also played Dallas, Corpus Christi, Beaumont and Brownsville, but mostly Houston it seemed.
Anyway, Houston. Much drinking, as happened on the road. My wastebasket was overflowing with Budweiser Tall Boys. What should've been an embarrassing sight. The housekeeper who was cleaning my room quipped, “Looks like you been kickin' back them Clydesdales”. She made a few other witty remarks, but that was the only one I wasn't too hung over to remember.
The Clydesdales gave way over the years to cervezas--Corona, Dos Equiis, Tecate, like that--and eventually, some time after retirement, faded away. All that Øl had gathered around my middle--which was an embarrassing sight. It took a good year of trying, but I was finally able to lose the gut. And I'd think of that every time I wanted a beer.
Anyway! Thanks as ever for stopping in and reading. Happy Friday to you! For now, ich bin outa here. More later.
PS Additional info: The picture was taken in 1985, probably in Houston. I was 30 or 31. Today's tune is one of the straight-ahead things I've got. Øl, pronounced oil, is what they call beer in Norway and Denmark. In Sweden, it's the same word only with an umlaut instead of a tong. For what all that's worth…