polyphony.

i want to make love to sarah vaughan's voice.

dude.
like, for serious.

anyway.

i went out, bought some records today. giving them a listen now, sarah to be exact, as you might gather.

this sarah joint is a beautiful album. i lucked out with this one.

anyway, the purchases:


maybe tomorrow - the jackson five

um, never can say goodbye much?
chea.

together again - willis jackson with jack mcduff

this was actually pretty good. not sure why i was surprised, i think i was expecting the worst because i'm not very familiar with either name. but the organ stuff is real good.

genius + soul = jazz - ray charles

nice, i didn't buy this for samples. i think ray's voice is too ill. soul for real, and i don't mean craig mack's little brothers.

hamp's golden favorites - lionel hampton

nice, i'm always feeling open vibes.

JAWS - eddie davis and shirley scott

jury's out here. gotta give it another listen.

the sounds 3 - gene harris

yes! love gene harris man... it's not really HIS album, but he's the standout to me, so i'm giving him credit. blue note has some of the dopest shit under their belt... i mean. madlib could honestly do a hundred shades of blue albums from their catalog. i already sampled one joint off of it.

the battle of birdland - sonny stitt, eddie davis

jury's out on this too. it's got lots of organ sounds on it. i'm sure once i figure out how to really flex chops, i'll be able to use it.
it's a good listen tho, as with shirley scott.

milestones - miles davis

good shit. nothing really loopable, but it's the same combo from round about midnight, with paul chambers, joe jones, red garland, john coltrane and the addition of cannonball adderly(sextet verses quintet). it's fly.

the modern jazz quartet - the modern jazz quartet

the vibes here are very nice. i like these guys, not as well versed in their music as i'd like to be.

sweet beginnings - marlena shaw

this album is hot. some disco-esque jams, but some fly joints too. i already sampled one song.

abraxas - santana
(come to find that i the actual purchase was a otis redding greatest hits compilation. it's gravy tho, we got it here already.)

in person - the cannonball adderley quartet feat. nancy wilson and lou rawls

super bad - james brown

this album is nice... it's a live joint, but it's pretty dope. i bought it with the intent of maybe snatching some open drums off it, but open breaks were amiss. i think. i'll give it a correct listen in the upcoming week.

sarah vaughn - sarah vaughn

i could listen to her sing all day. and this album is spectacular. really, i dig her voice more than billie holiday's... i'm an ella fitzgerald fan myself, but yeah. sarah has sickening range, and unreal control. they don't make voices like this anymore, the lazy fuckholes.
beyonce, come fuck with this.

mr. watermelon man - mongo santamaria

this is the album that houses the famed la bamba. i like mongo santamaria a whole lot.. his incorporation of latin rhythm/percussion with straight jazz elements like saxes and such, it's real dope. plus i'm a big fan of hubert laws, who's on all of the albums i own by mongo. love the flute.

bursting out - the oscar peterson trio

this is aight. i expect more out of oscar peterson, but i can't really fault him here. i'm not really into big band. at all.
'here's that rainy day' has some nice horns on it tho.

i'll play with this one some more.

volume IV - ahmad jamal

ahmad's just being ahmad. what can i say. dude has probably thee best piano breaks.
it's the way he plays... sparse, kinda open, real rhythmic tho.

it's a live joint, so you can hear people talking and laughing in the back ground. it's ill, kind of like a extra percussion track. i love it.

so yeah, all of that for $2.00. not bad.

i love music.

fatally flawed.

so, i've been thinking. alot.
and i've come to the conclusion that i have fatal flaw.
my achilles heel, my fulcrum for defeat.

my issue.

i'm devastatingly impatient.
not with other people, so much, but with shit in general.
definitely with self. on every imaginable level, too.

i was sitting in my room, listening to some records, trying to figure out WHY i struggle so much with the music. why i haven't been able to write. why i can't seem to stay with a exercise schedule, why my life in general seems to be taking it's time producing anything fruitful. it didn't hit my like a eureka freight train, because i think i always had some idea of what my problems were... but yeah, i faced facts. i'm an impatient sumbitch if there ever was one.

i don't give myself time with the beats. i started doing this shit a very short time ago. i have hundreds of records in my room, and i've literally listened to about 20 of them all the way through. i pick up a pen, look at a page, and get so frustrated with idea of having to conjure up something to write, and thusly drop the pen and take a nap. i lift weights for a week and half, gain 1 lb, fuck up and miss a few meals, miss a day of weightlifting, lose 2lbs, get pissed and move on to something else. it's like that with everythiong i do. i don't know how i expect to accomplish anything like that.

i mean, i've got drive. i've got desire. it's not just laziness. i just want shit done immediately, no wait time. i dunno whether it has anything to do with the type of world we live in, where basically everything is ready for consumption, food or otherwise, or if it's just me. whatever the case, that's my flaw, and i've got to fix it.

so, now i'm concentrating on living in the moment, as cliche as that sounds. honestly. just, taking each moment as it comes, trying to do something productive with it, as big as an hour, as infintesimal as 30 seconds.

i pushed myself earlier. i sat and listened to every chord change, every raucous drum solo, every lame joke sputtered between he and george duke, from a billy cobham LP titled B.C. friends, this is arguably one of billy cobham's worst outputs ever. allmusic only echoed my unfortunate findings. and i spent $4 on that record.

oops.

but yeah. i listened to it. and i'm going to do that with every album i have, cd, tape, whatever. bad or good, long or short.
because quite frankly, i'm sick of being impatient. i'm sick of missing out on shit because i didn't take the time to really bust my ass at it. i coulda had As through out my entire school career, because, on the reals, dog. i am a smart, capable motherfucker. i've got ADD, so that might color me badd, but fuck. i don't wanna hear that shit. ADD is as ADD does. i can do this shit.

i mean, it's just gotten to the point of being ridiculous. i used to have long, flowing, effortless entries in my blog. somehow they managed to dwindle down to unimagninative titles and and minimal overviews of long expanses of time. that's not what i write for. shit is a chore when you don't take time to enjoy it.

i can't promise immediate success, but i'm taking it slow. i've been in a rush all my life, so i've got lots of facets of it to catch up with.
i just need to prioritize and execute, slow as the need may be, until i feel more relaxed.

*whew*

felt fucking GOOD to get that out.
so yeah, if you catch me on the phone, and i'm talking slow, paced and methodically... i'm not high.
i'm livin in the moment.

yeah.
yo... that BC shit is bad, dukes. like, bad. i wanted to straight choke billy cobham out. 1979 was bad year for every one.

hey!

wanna see my cousin bessie?





i think she's pretty fly in that pic, but sak says she looks like a murderer.
to each his/her own, i guess.

she lives in nyc, so i'ma try to hook up a visit. my mom says that my grandparents didn't hang around that part of the family much back then because they were partiers and "boozers".

my kinda people!

nah, but i'm sayin. she doubts that they still rock out with the cock out anymore.
bess is killin them shoes tho, shits are type fresh.

but yeah.
billy, you owe me one for that shit.

i wonder what a bottle of revolt means.

chalk it up to me being pretentious.
sounds ok though, right?


i was gonna spend a whole lot of word and time being vexed about a series of arguments my father and i engaged in over the past weekend, but i'm not really caring about that at the moment. it will suffice to say that we bumped heads a few times, and i'm really ready to get out of here.
i'll put it like this, he called me lazy, i was being relatively productive at the exact moment, and then all hell broke loose.
dumbness.

i spent some time looking at home furnishings in ikea... i love that catalog yo. lemme get a place, it's gonna be on once it's time to get the furniture cracking. i'm a minimalist by nature, and i like wide open spaces, slightly austere, but not dramatically so... i'ma have fun.

i dunno.
that's how i see myself, you know?
the bachelor life, straight up, city living for real. makin music, chillin when i want to, hop in the car and pick up a friend, go to the club or some shit. not all high profile, so when i step in a spot, people automatically recognize me and the fuckers in the back wanna see if i carry protection... not on some corny bling shit. i'm always thinking about it.

*shrug*

the fam and i went to Dorney Park on friday. mad fun. my dad pulled an eric on us and stayed home, but i'm thinkin it was for the better. we got there and enjoyed ourselves... i remember when i wasn't really a coaster guy... i fronted like i wasn't scared of them, but eventually i was hoodwinked into boarding one, and it hasn't been the same since. i'm trying to get to sandusky, ohio now. that millenium force shit looks crazy fly.

i wonder what it is about humans and their need to sniff death's ass... i dunno. but fuck, i love the smell!

anyway.
the next few months look to be shaping up nicely... i'm excited.
gonna try to play things out the way they should be played.

gotta get back into the habit of going to sleep on time. i've gotten out of that real bad, and it's gonna be an issue once my life starts getting filled with deadlines and appointments again. which i'm hoping, is very soon. i'm tryna make it up to new york for a few school tours, got some interviews... school soon. etc. you know the drilly.

man.
i went to see my uncle on saturday.
the saddest thing you wanna see, yo. i hate hospitals, i hate nursing homes... so i don't go as much as i could, or should. but i went on saturday. moms stuck a pic of one of his album covers up beside him on his little desk... it made my heart sink. he's still very conscious of what's going on around him, though his active involvement is limited, as far as his surroundings... he saw me, and sorta stared for a second... then he just closed his eyes. mom said he does that when he gets embarrassed. i can't imagine what it's like to feel like that. i feel so bad for him...

i wanted to get out of there. i dunno how my mom visits him week in and week out, every day with him. i guess love is the only way. i can't stand seeing him in that condition.

anyway. i'm out.
un.

what up tho.


yo...
i wanna be the best ever.
i guess it's why i spend so much time trying push my limits with the words. i'm not too concerned about being the best beat maker ever. it's whatever, i'm satisfied with simply liking my beats. but, recognized or not, i wanna feel like no one can fuck with me. i got a long way to go. but i trust my mind and my drive. i'ma have that shit, watch. i got a long way to go, but i'm dedicated.

i am participating in a battle on okp.

i'm getting lazy and tired. i had no idea these tourneys were so long, and i'm not a battler anyway.

but cats keep saying my shit isn't spittable. it is, i don't write shit i can't spit. shit, i'll record that shit, sounclick it and link it. fuck that.
but yeah. if i lose this round i'll be happy. i'm tired of having to run back to that board and check to see if its my turn to spit.


i'm sleepy tho. and it's late. i'll holla.

. . .

i don't know what i came here to write about.
i had the intention of doing something profound with this entry, but it's all managed to leave me.
but i feel like i need to write, so forgive me if i'm reaching for straws.

i've been extremely stressed the past few days. i wake up and go to sleep with headaches, i sleep off and on thruout the day... i'm getting more lazy as time passes. i don't know what to do.

i'm trying to find somesort of motivation- i'm not even sure when i lost my last source of motivation, but it was somewhere around may, maybe. maybe even june. i've been on this terrible downhill trend that i'm scared will carry over into the school semester.

on top of that, i'm questioning myself at every turn. i hate every rhyme i write, which is actually nothing new, but i also am grappling with self doubt.

'what if i'm not cut out for this shit?'

it may seem as if it's not a big deal, or, rather, that it shouldn't be a big deal. but it is. i've unwittingly based all forethought around the idea of making music for a living. then i think about school and the fact that i have to pay up for it soon, and i'm broke as fuck. i think to myself i'll never make it to pratt.

then i'm like, what am i trying to get to nyc for? theoretically, i'm gonna go up there, somehow survive living in brooklyn as a full time student who gets good grades, while still finding time to find my niche on the music scene with something creative and new, something people wanna hear, something i'll feel good putting out.

c'mon man.

i'ma have to be in like 5 places at the same time. 2 of them will have to be jobs. and i'm going to have to posess unnatural amounts of patience. that's an issue, seeing as how i'm unnaturally lacking in that department at the moment.

i think about all that, and i say to myself, who the fuck are you kidding?

i'm just scared. i'm all out of creativity. it comes and goes faster than i can make something worthwhile with it. the terrible part is, i'm spending ALL my time 'making beats', 'writing rhymes', trying to figure out how make it all work. i'm not getting anywhere with it and its the only thing i fucking do. the expense of time isn't matching the results.

life is hard, man. especially when you have expectations of it. especially when you see the glamorous iceberg tips of other peoples' lives. you hang out, go to a club and have a drink, and there are beautiful people there. they have flawless skin and good jobs and they have a nice home to go to after the night is over...

i'm just wondering how i'ma get where i want to be. i'm not good at anything, besides telling folks how i'ma get good, or what i'll be good at... and like i said before, i'm feeling the pressure of being an adult very strongly. my parents are unapologetically absent from pretty much everything i involve myself with, and rightly so. it's all my responsibility now. i accept that, but i'm feeling like i don't know how to do it right.

and, damn if i'm not sick and tired of having these entries, at least once a year, i'm at a period where everything is gray and bad.

*sigh*

anyway.
i'd like a nice, round breast with a nice brown nipple somewhere in the vicinity of my mouth.
i just saw the arissa pictoral and i'm remembering things. cravings and such.
bad.

is that too much to ask?

anniversaries.

it's officially 1 year and 2 days since i started this blog.

wow.

is that incredible?
i'd critique my year since i started chronicling, but it's really late/early, and i'm entirely too tired to start desconstructing self.
i'll do it later.

i will say that i'm glad i've put all this down in my own words... i've never been able to keep a written journal or diary, so logging here on the internet has been a blessing.

but yeah. a YEAR ago. alot has happened since then. i've changed. mad ups and downs. i believe i'm a better man for it all, as cliche as that may sound. i wonder if i kept posting for 5 straight years, they'd keep every post archived? that would be amazing. i was going back reading a few entries... haha. what an ass i've been at times. a liar too, with some of my predic(headed)tions.

maybe i'll do a post with my 10 favorite entries from the past year. i've got 12 months of possible candidates. could be interesting.
but right now i need to sleep.

holler later alli fuckin'gator.

overdue, i am.

for a long entry, that is.

long overdue. so... i'll make a go at it here.

i was sitting on the toilet a few days ago, and as is common practice in this house, someone left a magazine by the john. it was my younger sister's teenvogue. so, yeah, i picked it up... there was a write up on mandy moore's "60 things to do before i'm 30 list." so, i read. my reading had less to do with what was on her list, and more to do with my being intrigued as to what my list would consist of. so, as i reared up off the terlit, i began a rough list in the head.

i'm honestly too lazy to even try to do 60. i'm gonna whittle it down to 5, and expound on each. ready?

me too.

1) i wanna own a business.

record label to be exact. i think i've mentioned this before... i've seen successful independent labels, ones that don't seem to sacrifice any artisitic integrity for the sake of a sale. that's the kind of label i'd like to be on, as an artist... and that's the kind of label i'd like to own/run. i think stones throw has to be the blueprint for a dope label that's doing what it wants. the fact that they've done things like get the rights to re-release all that classic funk, including stark reality's NOW album... fenagled the blue print vaults into madlib's busy palms... i dunno. they do shit on their terms, and you would be hard pressed to find anything they've put out that is subpar.

big labels are for pussy motherfuckers who are scared of leg work, and more importantly, are willing to submit to the likes of sean "send em to brooklyn for cheesecake!" combs and dame "cam'ron is my new exec." dash, or russell "i own the 'urban' market, but still can't convince anybody that these phat farm shelltop knockoffs are fly" simmons and his wifey, remora lee simmons.

just a place for creatives like myself who wanna push the limits with music, or who would like to just put good tried and true music out. if it gets within a stones' throw of chris manak's shit, great. i'll settle for a few happy artists and a solid fanbase though.


2) i wanna start a band.

for serious. like, 2-3 guitars, a rhodes piano/wurlitzer, an electric bass, and some drums. on some stark reality sans the wacky vocals, or like, if you put jimi hendrix with jaco pastorius, herbie hancock on keys and clyde stubblefield on drums. of course i'd need some dope musicians around me, i'd be on lead guitar, and i'm no ill lead guy yet. this is assuming i have time to get nice on the guitar. fuck the "black rock" concept, and the hip hop/rock "fusion" shit. we'd just have jam session after jam session, record them onto an 8 track analog tape joint, and then see what cats think. crack beers on the weekends and become relevant 30 years later. that's that ill shit.

3) i wanna own a home.

like, a HOME. a domicile that increases my net worth. if it's precludes my pockets getting fat off this music shit, then i'm not gonna sweat it as much... because i want a nice home. i want a small but functional (good) studio in the basement... big kitchen, the trimmings. i'd like it to be in/around the 215 area. this would become a prerequisite if i was to tend to #4.

4) i wanna get married.

yup. the international playboy wants to settle down. it's weird, how i look at marriage. from the view point of an unincumbered twenty something who wants to be a rock star, the idea of linking up with a woman on some permanent shit is unappealin, to say the least. not that i want to run around fucking groupies, that's not even the deal. maybe it's that i'm conditioned to believe that marriage means a drastic loss of independence. and fuck if i'm not independent.

but on the other hand, i also look at it as a 30 year old man who has seen the single life inside out... i can see it getting old really quickly. there is much to be said for finding a compatible individual who is appealing to you physically, and wants to guarantee you sex and companionship.

that being stated- i'm in no rush to go steady forever with someone. i don't have one of those clocks that makes me feel honor bound to tie any knots... chances are that no one will ever want to marry me, or that i never find the one i'm trying to see forever with. i won't say that i'm cool with that, because i don't really know how i'd feel, single at 35, with no prospects. the rightist/fundamentalist in me would probably feel rather lame.

whatever though.

5) i wanna live outside the states for at least 6 months.

it doesn't matter where.

and for the whole 6+ months, i'd just feed off the foreign vibe, take lots of pictures, adopt culture and freak music in new titillating ways. yeah, living abroad is a definite goal.

so there you have it. nothing ground breaking, not trying to save the world yet, not trying to have kids and amass stupid expenses, just wanna do some worthwhile shit.

you know what the scariest part of it is, though? i've got 7 years and counting. i'm almost there. i think it has alot to do with why i'm frustrated so much... i feel the pressure of adulthood on my shoulders. the fleeting quality of time is so real to me now. and there's SO much i want to do. and so much of it takes time to really become substantial, or even worth mentioning. i tell folks i'm a musician, but i've got one basic beat with no lyrics floating about aimlessly. i tell cats i am trying to make it to new york for school next year, but i can hardly afford a full semester at ccp for the fall.

add this to the fact that i'm horribly impatient, particularly with myself, and you've got a young man on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

anyway... there''s my 5.

in other news,
something has got to jump off in the way of a job. my mom and dad had a sit down with myself and alexis today... apparently the expenses are getting to be too much for dad to handle, even with the money we give him each week. he basically asked us to up the amount per week. it pissed me off at 1st, because i'm not really in a position to spend anymore than what i am spending currently.

honestly, though- you look at the circumstances presented. it's got to be humbling to come to your kids for help. life shouldn't be so fucking expensive, man.

*shrug*

i'll do what i can.


i'm out tho.

*flips the bird*