You hear that? That part there… yep. The honking trombone. Who was puffing on that sucker? Lincoln, was that you? Marvin (my personal robot assistant)? Mitch? Anybody going to own up to that heinous honking?
Oh, hi. You’re getting us in the middle of a band meeting, as you can see. (Murray, present. Bret, present…) Kind of an ugly look at how the sausage of Big Green’s music is cranked out. Okay, so our production values are not the best, and our process is flawed. So we hear stuff in our recordings we didn’t even know was there when we were tracking them. That’s part of the Big Green method, man. It’s a bit like found sound; it’s basically lost sound. Somebody misplaces a trombone part somewhere in the known universe (or perhaps in any one of an infinite number of possible universes), and it turns up embedded in one of our tunes like a foreign correspondent on a battlefield assignment.
I guess in that respect we owe a great deal more to our old friend Trevor James Constable than we ever actually gave him credit for. He was famous for that orgone generating device he used to park in our basement (or courtyard, depending on the weather conditions). Far from a generator, that thing was more like a collector of energy, like a commercial fishing net or a big radar dish. (Yes, folks… it’s simile week at the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill.) Well, when we record, the simple act of our making a record creates a virtual “collector” of random sounds loosed upon the universe by substandard musicians everywhere. Those bits of music congeal with the tracks we perform on to produce the zig-zag rococco 
rock arrangements Ann Powers spoke of so eloquently in her review of 2000 Years To Christmas. And hey-presto: another obscure Big Green song.
Well, that’s the creative process. For a somewhat more mentally challenged process, see Big Green’s newly launched podcast, THIS IS BIG GREEN, now available on iTunes. Yes, this is the stuff, folks – stories ripped straight from the front pages. (Front pages of last week’s news, actually.) The inside poop on all that is Big Green. Plus never before (and never again) heard tracks from the archives, and some new, lightly pan-fried material, unreleased and unashamed. The maiden voyage features a tour through the Hammer Mill basement, a segment called “Ask Marvin”, a remote from Matt on Betelgeuse (or what he thinks is Betelgeuse), and more.
Okay, so anyway – what is this, take twelve? STOP THAT HONKING!
of corporate America, was driven by its most radical faction (the so-called “tea party”) to manipulate the once mundane process of raising the debt ceiling for political gain. S&P’s judgment that our government can no longer make rational decisions about its debt is based on their recognition that, from now on, raising the debt ceiling will involve a similar political standoff.
Yeah, you heard me right. In the midst of preparing for Big Green’s [INSERT NAME HERE] Interstellar Tour 2011 and of being ejected from our home of nearly ten years (the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill), we’ve elected to launch a podcast. I know this sounds crazy, but … hear me out. The world is full of blowhards and know-nothings. Fact is, a lot of blowhards are know-nothings. So the harder we blow, the less we know – follow me? And if we don’t know we have problems, like impending eviction, for instance, well that’s almost like not having any problems at all. An elegant solution, and it costs next to nothing… or at least a good deal less than our legal counsel was planning on charging us. (Anti-Lincoln has some rapacious per diem rates, I’m here to tell you. Just watch your ass.)
some of the legions of unemployed. They cling to this belief, rhetorically at least, even when it’s clear that a) businesses already have multiple trillions in savings they are sitting on right now, and b) they have no intention of spending any of it on new hires so long as they can press their current employees to do the work of three, four, perhaps more. Ask anybody who’s got a job, and they’ll tell you – increased productivity is just the modern term of art for speeding up the assembly line.
Oh, hi. Yeah, we’re working with our legal advisor – a mouthpiece named Anti-Lincoln, esq. And as you can see, he’s helping us out with our recent eviction notice. Not the first time, you understand, that we’ve been asked to vacate the premises. More than once the folks down at city hall have reminded us that this building is SUPPOSED to be vacant. Seems a waste to us, but what do we know? The abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill is abandoned for a reason, even if we don’t know what that reason is. Freaks! They didn’t even sweeten the deal with a grace period; just “Out, already!”
entail new spending. So we’ve reached a pass where budget items need to (a) win approval from both houses of Congress and be signed into law, (b) run the same gauntlet a second time in the form of appropriations bills, and (c) get past the blackmail play around raising the debt ceiling to cover funds already duly appropriated. This is why the G.O.P. wants to make the debt ceiling extension a two-step process – so that down the line, they can shake us down for more concessions. This is bogus as hell and should be denounced as such, every minute of every day.
Okay, there’s this parchment scroll tacked to our door with a dime-store knife. And it’s got some rubbish scribbled across it about how we need to vacate the premises of our adopted home, the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill, by the end of July… “or else”. No signature. But a very distinctive style of penmanship, I must say. South paw. (You can tell by the smudging of the India ink. ) Can just barely read the thing, frankly. (Or even dishonestly.) Clearest thing is the illustration of a shaking fist – kind of threatening.
circumstances is a very attractive position for conservatives and watery republicans like Boehner. It’s very, very shiny. Also, the consequences of breaking that promise are painful for them to contemplate. So …. over the cliff we go!
Oh, hiya. Geezus, you’d think being idle and ensconced in an abandoned hammer mill would offer endless opportunities to rehearse, jam, arrange, etc. Seems like every time we try to do it, something comes up. For instance, this week I’ve got custody of the mansized tuber. (Matt had him last week. Hey – that’s the terms of the adoption agreement, what do you want from me?) I guess I never realized what a handful he can be. He’s at a difficult age for tubers; you know, that time when they either become a full-fledged plant or get mashed up into some kind of traditional dish. I have to think that, for tubey, it’s going to be the former outcome, but he doesn’t seem convinced. Now he jumps at every noise. And as you might expect, rehearsal generates a lot of noises.
How substantial? Default – or even near-default – could cause a global financial disruption on a scale that would dwarf that of late 2008. At the very least, a downgrade of the investment rating of U.S. Treasury bonds would be not only unprecedented but extremely costly, making service on our existing debt far more costly, blowing an even bigger hole in the federal budget. If that alone were to happen it would be bad enough. But these facts just don’t seem to register on Capitol Hill.