I hate it when I misplace things. Where the hell did I put that sucker? You don’t suppose…? Oh, no. No, that’s too awful to contemplate. I refuse to concede the possibility of such an unhappy happenstance.
Oh, hi. Just spitballing here in the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill. Nothing to get excited about. Between Big Green tours, as you may already know, we tend to blow a lot of time in contemplation and various other pointless activities. Not because we are perennial time-wasters, you understand. No, no – it’s the ascetic lifestyle we aspire to. I know most bands drown themselves in drink, cloud their minds with illicit drugs, and indulge in multifarious pleasures of the flesh. Not this crew, my little friend – not a bit of it. We are like monks. (Did I say monks? I meant monkeys. Or Monkees. You take your pick.) We sit about, scratch, toss things at one another… until somebody says, get up there and play.
Funny thing is, when we play, it’s actually quite a lot like sitting around, scratching, and tossing things at one another. We just do it with guitars, drums, keys, etc. Some hollering as well. You see, this is why we are so popular on other planets (and in certain remote areas frequented only by wild animals). Big Green has never really broken into the terrestrial human market, though we’re certainly not averse to that. This may be mildly enlightening for those who have pondered the seemingly prevalent space references in our music. Songs like, well, Evening Crab Nebula (a Christmas song)…
If you’re gonna’ follow that evening star
better be sure how wise you are
If you’re gonna’ follow that evening star, better not follow it all too far
or you’ll be choked and froze in the vacuum of space
Can’t treat the Crab Nebula
like it’s there to direct ya’
by pointing out some pertinent biblical place
That’s just one example. And yeah, we’re aiming that at both an Earthbound audience and those folks out there in spaceland. Got to name-check a few communities they’re likely to recognize – kind of like those pop songs that have place names in them (like Huey Lewis naming cities at the end of “Heart of Rock and Roll”, for instance). When we’re up in the Crab Nebula, they wait for this song. They start waving their tentacles and nodding their oddly misshapen heads. It’s a gas.
So, sure… we may be different. But we take pride in our difference. For us, it makes all the difference that we’re different. And…. that’s all I’ve got.
That was some pretty authentic final frontier gibberish that was!