Because of certain posts from Joe Carducci via a social media I rarely have any truck with, I recently had a chance to revisit some things that were important in my musical past. It’s easy to overlook things and people that never made it into the bright spots of...

…as long as it was a violation of American myths. Any myth will do if well chosen, and a Pepsi just won’t cut it. Thru all the hard work of editing, mixing, etc the great audiobook voiceover project (and dealing with building a whole new system after a...

“What was it like?” he asked. “Nothin’ you’d wanna know about,” I said, lighting last year’s final, delicious cigarette, “It was a whole lot better. But your mama would hate to find that out. I’m sure she’s...

“…all the world… no, wait. Most all the world,” he corrected. Next thing I knew, the cheap smell of patchouli washed itself free of one pretension and gathered into a rage of middle-class stink. As far as pretensions were concerned, life was...

…and Joe Carducci was slingin’ copies of his books at Quimby’s August 31. Kinda poetic to do it the last day of the month. I’m still sluggin’ my way thru his latest, Stone Male—A Requiem For The Living Picture, and I’ll soon finish...