by Rich Balling
Name:_______________
Date:_______________
Did you turn in your fitness log?
Exercise Number of Sets
sit-ups _______
military presses _______
bilateral warlock crunches _______
reverse fellated oar benders _______
Mesozoic chin bayonets _______
duppers _______
quasi-yoga thigh lasers _______
mr. goodtime erection pullers _______
the egg roll _______
Mt. Olympus phlangal spear screamers _______
adult frustration adolescent beauty
bare-knuckle chalkboard punches _______
crazed sprint _______
stern voiced fast food complainers _______
wasp cloud swats _______
silent monks _______
tree of terror _______
after college is when the doubt sinks in-ers _______
starforce bacterial nanolevitational _______
endoplasmic glute toners _______
fuck you’s and fuck your mom’s _______
this my classroom _______
goddammit jump rope routine _______
pushups _______
PHIL PIRRONE
A Static Lullaby
No matter what I do, the sun is coming up tomorrow.
Whether it’s a good thing or a bad thing.
No matter what you think…what you’ve been told
isn’t scripture and you’ll believe what you see
till you’re blinded.
You’ll think all these things…
No matter what I do, you build these walls to stop me.
It took me years to breakdown the blockade of lies
and if it kills me I’ll breakthrough ten million more.
I walk up these steps, but there are locks on all the doors.
The gate is now open, but the bridge is always broken.
Lies are forever spoken, blowing winds of unimportance.
while
bomb-funds are well supported, I stand here.…not
informed, not interested, and not listening.
BOB NANNA
Hey Mercedes
Excerpts taken at random from various notes taken on this tour, AKA the past 3 weeks:
I wish I could say I’ve never felt like this. The doors are open now and I am in the van. The iPod is playing Jeff Buckley. Doors are open. And kissing you sucks. Sucks the life out of me. Woke up horribly hot in a cold room. No big surprise. Baby hold my hand. A different interpretation of the obvious. A cop on a horse. My touring. My radios. My waves of love. Go overflow. Let us just be. Almost fatally flawed. Singing saw. Swinging sea. Saw you singing. Flowing baby ribbons play with kittens. That old metallic taste. M’girl. Squeaking hissy tapes. Slight groups of good vibes. We’re terribly late for the show. Load-in is now and we’re 80 miles out. Good thing I’m not hungry. Pumping some serious idm at the moment. I am unstoppable. Send shovels on the double. Explosions of opinions. Culled culture or whatchamacallit, it still kills o’er the wires. Happy anniversary, stay world famous. Don’t be so evil. Sucking down the ink, the cartridge is dark. Blinding bells, showy belly. My young excitable heart speeds faster than any sane racer. Listening up, glistening gills, remembering members, and noir girls. 1234 kids in a line. Good lucking. Many storks ponding, responding, nestled in chicks. Florida for now. Twice the surface noise. A little bit of buzz. A little hiss of interest. A live wire. The Deftones aren’t that bad.
BOB NANNA
Hey Mercedes
I’ll probably be able to sing tonight. New Orleans may be the hottest, sweatiest, swampiest, most humid dank pit on earth, yet our hooked-up Marriott Courtyard’s rooms are Sahara arid. Luckily I came prepared. While the AC was pumping out that dry throat music, my brand new Vicks humidifier was fighting the good fight. You see, a few days ago, a previous humidification product lost and lost big time. Woke up in Pensacola feeling as if I had swallowed a cue ball and it was stuck somewhere between my nose & throat. So that hunk of junk hit the dust fast. And so I hit CVS and found my new hotel roommate. So I’m not 100% but it will do for the show tonight. Provided I follow some ridiculous self-imposed groundrules…I’m assuming we’ll be stopping for breakfast soon. Perhaps a Denny’s? Perchance an IHOP? Matters little because here’s the deal. I’ll order big. I’m going for broke. Breakfast is the biggest meal of the day in this life of a softcore (eggs but no cheese) vegan touring singer. Eggbeaters. Hash browns. Toast, dry (If you don’t ask for it dry, you end up getting more butter than toast). Pancakes (Again, I scoop out 98% of the butter they pile on the flapjacks. It should be enough to liberally coat the outside of a Mini Cooper. Don’t know why you’d ever want to do that, though.) And of course, that old reliable morning staple, sweet nectar of the gods, lovely java rescue. Now if they don’t provide soy milk (or if we haven’t squandered it from last night’s rider which we get 1 in every 24 shows), I’ll gently teardrop some half & half in there. I can’t overdo it. Dairy is vocal death round here. Oh yeah, no sugar either. Learn to love it. A dash of butter, a sprinkle of cream, this boy’s in the clear, but only in the mornings. Make that breakfast satisfying because it may be the only substantial meal you get today. Now in the van, at gas station number one, I purchase the biggest fucking jug of water they offer. Oddly enough, the gallons are usually much cheaper than the liters. I guess no one wants to be seen guzzling straight from a gallon container. But seriously, who is to judge me here in this van, my home? Todd? I’ll shut him up real good when I whoop his achin’ aunt fanny in Travel Scrabble! (Plus, when those jugs are empty, they become a handy container for, um, other fluids.) So I have the gallon in hand. if they only have it freezing cold out of the fridge, well then that sucks, but it will have to do. Freezing cold water is vocal death round here. You’ll just have to wait for it to be safe to consume. I now have the option of filling up my sturdy thermos with hot water from the side of the station’s badcoffeemaker. Today, I’m still getting over Pensacola, so I disassemble three bags of Throat Coat Tea (available from Traditional Medicinals—by the way, TM, i will endorse you for free tea. I practically keep your two-bit company in business!), drop em in and add the hot water. This will steep for at least 20 minutes. After 20 minutes, I’ll pour it into a cup and little by little have it burn the hell out of my legs as I try and drink it in a bouncing van. Sort of a masochistic fringe benefit. If things are really grim vocally, maybe grab some throat drops, but for the love of God make sure they’re sugar free. If not, you may as well buy a pack of Big League Chew. So the drive. I’ll try not to talk too much and never over loud music. Trying to hold a conversation over loud music is vocal death round here. Well what about lunch? It doesn’t exist. You get to the club 4 hours before doors so that you can soundcheck. Once you’re done, feel free to snack a little on the chips & salsa, the pita & hummus, whatever light they have to offer… because I can’t eat a thing at least 3 hours before I start warming up. Undigested food just takes up space & energy when you have more important things to worry about, such as jumping around on a stage. And then, exactly one-hour-before-the-band-before-us-ends, it’s time to get down to business. I slink out to the van and get comfortable. I’ll hook up the iPod and cue up the 19 minute track known as “Vocal Warmup”. It starts with a series of tongue-sticking-way-out “ha ha ha”s. Personally, I don’t see what’s so funny about being prepared, now listen up. I taped a session I had with a vocal instructor (about 2 months worth of lessons, well worth it, but i think she’d think i’m out of my mind now.) and i sing to her piano. It starts way way down low and some nights I can barely reach it. And slowly it steps up in pitch to way way up high total falsetto. Never ever oversing at this point! This was a problem before. The first day, I told Ms. Vocals that I used to warm up loudly, pretty much in the same manner I played the show. And then she dropped her sandwich. She said that was the worst thing I could have done. So, please take it easy, take it slow
. I don’t have to tell you that oversinging during warmup is vocal death around here. After the ha ha ha’s come the ya ya ya’s. And it’s the same pitchy routine, this time sans tongue. I believe this exercise was recommended to me in order to combat some wanton orthodontics. Got that jaw click. I also had a cemented retainer removed from my mouth upon her request. My problems must have been major because we go up & down the scale twice! Now while this is happening I take the opportunity to don an ankle brace (old war injury, the battle of grand rapids) and stretch out my legs. Now imagine this. You are walking past a nondescript van and happen to glance over just in time to see some kid furiously mouthing “ya ya ya” for 7 minutes. Do you laugh or run or both? Do you sit and stare in curiosity? After that comes the most embarrassing one of them all. Stick your tongue out. Now say “la ga la ga la” without moving your jaw. Now go up and down the scale. Feel dumb yet? We’re only beginning! The la-ga extravaganza is the last thing on the track so turn it off and turn off the van. Now turn on the sirens. I’ll start at my lowest possible pitch up to the highest and then down in one breath if possible, like a police siren. Try not to force anything. Smooth over that falsetto break. Get all angelic. Loosen up already, mack. Now go back into the club. You should have about 20 minutes before the set change begins. This is the fun part. I’ll grab my Vicks Personal Steam Inhaler (by the way, Vicky, i will endorse you for free products. I practically keep your two-bit company in business!), fill er up with water and plug er in to the nearest backstage outlet. No outlet backstage? Never fear, just run an extension cord from the stage to the nearest discreet haven. Hell, during Fairweather’s set at Krazyfest, I plugged into one of their powerstrips and just stood behind the stage sucking up steam. (Did I mention it was 90+ degrees outside? Ah, the sacrifices we make.) Sure, you’ve been drinking water all day, but now you’re moisturizing the upper regions. The resonant nasal cavity especially (which right now is plugged like the Hoover Dam, thank you Pensacola). Suck that steam and suck it good for about 5 minutes (or two Damone / Sensefield songs). Done? Good. Start stretching. Finish the job you started on your legs. Then your arms & your back. And finally your neck. I can’t tell you how many mornings I’ve awakened with “rock neck”, the soreness that comes with headbangin’ too hard (I guess it would happen with shoegazing as well). Then start running & jumping. It’s good to get that heart rate up slowly as opposed to shocking it senseless on the first note of Boy Destroyers ifyouknowhatimean. Then you’re pretty much ready. The heart rate is in a good place, the body is stretched and relaxed, the voice is primed and ready, and you are totally hydrated from all of that water you drank! You won’t even need any during the show. It’s incredible. So phew, show’s over, go talk to the crowd, grab a cold Blatz, hunt down food, but during all spare time, warm down. You need to calmly caress your now swollen vocal cords back to their original size. So make an “eeee” sound, start at a high pitch and slide down. Eeeeeeasily now, don’t force it. When are you done warming down? The answer is: whenever you can speak normally without any gruffness or strain. And there you go. Repeat every day as necessary. Yeah, I’ll probably be able to sing tonight. We ended up stopping at a Subway, and then I had to down a Granola bar, I’m almost done with the gallon, and once I get to Houston, I’ll need to start working on this nose situation. xxoo bob nanna
AARON PILLAR
The Appleseed Cast
Hundred Hands
in the rain, sing a song, in your head. …so secret life, in your eyes, its alright. …so be surprised, by the lullabies, that keep us in line, tonight.
THE AUTUMNS
Night Music*
stay
away
from words you can’t explain
remember
your reckless father
alone by
the southern waters
two tongues tied two distant skies
flecked with white
last
i heard
two months he’d been in bed
beyond the
brittle urban
ear, feeds
a balmy stifled
air, bleeds
a radio
humming fuzz
girl, you gave me your hand
i know you never had
someone to love you as i have
THE AUTUMNS
Lux *
hey
spare me sweetheartless
the bees
beating their star-littered wings
there where i want you to be
pain
sickly and partial to rain
i’m coming to find you and then
breaking your heart with a grin
stay
who’ll explain this?
i’m bled and left under
umbrellas of laughter
someday
you’ll be famous
but never forget - it isn’t someday yet
stay
there where i want you to be
there where i want you
now
the world
is nothing to see
now and forever
they want you to be
aching to believe
RICH BALLING
Cowboy Communist
The Sound of Animals Fighting
Joan Of Arc Did More Than Talk, Joan Jett Did More Than Rock.
October 10, 1960
an astute, pre-cockney mick jagger
waves goodbye to childhood friend
keith richards, offering his services
to Russia’s Marsnik 1 space probe-ram.
earth
mars
the rolling stones
the rolling stones
God,
help us all.
RICH BALLING
Cowboy Communist
The Sound of Animals Fighting
All Tomorrow’s Parties
I’ll be your mirror,
white light/white heat.
a Sunday morning- the Gift,
the black angel’s death song.
I’m waiting for the man, here she comes now-
lady godiva’s operation, venus in furs-
a femme fatale.
I heard her call my name, sister ray.
european son, run run run-
there she goes again, heroin.
RICH BALLING
Cowboy Communist
The Sound of Animals Fighting
we are all selfish by nature. some control it better than others. the biological vehicle for feeling somehow forgot that choices are made by the chemicals. try. try hard and step on everyone else to get there. we are all selfish by nature. some control it better than others. the biological vehicle for feeling somehow forgot that choices are made by the chemicals. try. try hard and step on everyone else to get there. we are all selfish by nature. some control it better than others. the biological vehicle for feeling somehow forgot that choices are made by the chemicals, try. try hard and step on everyone else to get there. we are all selfish by nature.some control it better than others.the biological vehicle for feeling somehow forgot that choices are made by the chemicals. try. try hard and step on everyone else when things begin to look up / S-U-R-P-R-l-S-E / time doesn’t Stop / and each second passing Is one second closer to your good streak’s End so / right now i’m trading in a few moments to breathe / and i hope my Will does not leave me when i choose to exhale / because that will be the last choice i ever make / i am restless but / this is the most Comfortable i’ve been in years / my mood has shifted from ac/dc to marvin gaye / it’s 8:12 in the evening and / my greatest worry is that i’m missing baby geniuses Play for a million dollars on Channel 11 we are all selfish by nature. some control it better than others. the biological vehicle for feeling somehow forgot that choices are made by the chemicals. try. try hard and step on everyone else to get there. we are all selfish by nature. some control it better than others. the biological vehicle fo
r feeling somehow forgot that choices are made by the chemicals. try. try hard and step on everyone else to get there.
ANTHONY GREEN
Circa Survive
lesus & the Sharp, Electric Star
Gemut - Livingston Burgundy
5.99, 2 for 10, we’re here
in together anti-vitamin
and the crudest form of nutrient
“you can’t hold it against them” she said.
she believes that all those who suffer from
life as from an illness are in the right
the woman in the lobby stares me down
mocking and unconcerned.
In California news anchors all look like
they were plucked from a 3-some porno scene
you’ve got one hot slutty vixen type
one down from her is the short hot business
woman. in between them is an orange colored 3 piece suit
white haired and 50 something - witty
with a tired dirty smile. the man staying next door
plays his radio just loud enough so you can tell there’s
something really close_ _ _on. When this whole
thing started all i had was a name - now
there’s a definition and a reason. the more
i expect, the harder things are.
jesus & the sharp, electric star.
BRANDON BONDEHAGEN
Christiansen
Pop punk takes over
Music in cyclical
sense don’t quit your day job
BRANDON BONDEHAGEN
Christiansen
Fallen Oppenheimer Angel
hands his halo back to God.
A naive president waits
