Category Archives: Usual Rubbish

Agro-botics.

January 31, 2020 Joe Leave a comment

It think there’s room. Absolutely. We’ve got plenty of space on the shop floor. Just sweep those old discarded hammer parts out of there and we’re in business.

Oh, hi. Welcome to Big Green’s Cheney Hammer Mill headquarters, the innovation center of northeastern central New York! Sure, I know you folks all think we’re a bunch of layabout deadbeat motherfuckers, and, well, you’re mostly right about that, but I’m here to tell you that we’re on the verge of turning over a new leaf. And that leaf will be turned by the claw of a hired robot.

What am I talking about? Trends, my dear listeners, trends. Take a look at your non-existent newspaper. You don’t have to look very far at all to find stories about robots increasingly being used in agriculture. That’s right – robots plowing, robots planting, robots fertilizing, robots picking, etc., etc. Now look at us. (No, really …. look at us.) We are an independent band, planted in the middle of an agricultural community – a musical ficus plant, dying of thirst in a creative desert. Year after year, we seek something our community cannot give us: money delivered to our door in easy to negotiate, small denomination bills. After all this time, we’ve decided, why fight it? Let’s join the agricultural sector. Now … how can we do this without breaking a sweat?

Well, now there’s an answer to that age-old question: Robots! Robots are doing all the work these days, cultivating cash crops all across the country. Now you may say, “But Joe, you don’t have any land? Where will you grow the crops?” Well, nameless interlocutor, first, thanks for calling me Joe. Second, we’ve got all the growing space we need, right here in the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill. We can set up a hydroponic garden on the shop floor. Hell, we won’t even need dirt! Just millions of gallons of water and … well, we’ll work that out.

And you may ask, “But Joe, where are you gonna get the robots?” My reply: Thanks for your question! In fact, we have robots. Well … at least one robot. Marvin (my personal robot assistant) will be patient zero in our agricultural revolution. He will be the prototype, the one-bot vanguard for a future army of agro-matons. Right, Marvin? …. Marvin??

Marvin? Anyone seen Marvin today? It’s planting time, damn it!

Usual Rubbish

Retread.

January 24, 2020 Joe Leave a comment

Huh. Ever had the feeling that you’ve lived a particular moment before? Or been someplace you’ve never been to before? No? Okay, well …. I’m having it right now!

Okay, now I don’t know how many of you out there have ever had the pleasure of producing an album that’s made up of songs you’ve already recorded. Show of hands? Let’s see …. five …. six …. ten …. and a few more way in the back. So maybe just fifteen of you. That’s fifteen out of five billion, okay? I think the point’s been made. And if I sound testy, well, it’s been a long goddamn day and I DON’T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT RIGHT NOW.

Um ….. sorry. Anyway, my point is that making an album out of existing songs is like building a staircase from the pieces of your previous staircase. Which is what one of my landlords did once. Then my next landlord fixed a hole in the porch roof by tearing down the entire porch roof and throwing it into the gully behind the house. Don’t even get me started on what he did to the plumbing. But I digress …. again.

Okay, so you know how when you’re shopping at Costco or Hannaford or whatever, once in a while they throw a little something extra in your shopping bag, like a coupon or a hard candy or some discarded fruit? That NEVER happens? Okay … bad example. You know how sometimes you get something cheap and something even cheaper comes along with it? Well, in case you haven’t been paying attention, that’s how we’ve been handling our podcast, THIS IS BIG GREEN, for a number of years now. So with each free installment you get an episode of Ned Trek, and that thing often contains additional giveaways, like a brace of original songs, roughly recorded in our makeshift basement studio.

Hey, I think I've played this part before.

You just blew my mind.

You with me? Good. What we’re doing is taking some of those giveaway songs and hammering them into shape. After we do that, we’ll line them up in random order and call it an album. It’s kind of like what we did with our last album, Cowboy Scat: Songs in the Key of Rick, only our Ned Trek songs were a bit more considered (if no less ridiculous). We don’t have a title or a theme, just 80 or 90 songs to sort through and winnow down to maybe 15 or 16, maybe less. Some we’ll polish, others maybe re-record. Marvin (my personal robot assistant) thinks it’s deja vu all over again, but he’s just channeling Yogi Berra.

Hey, we all have hobbies, right? Not right? Okay. Not my day for being right.

Usual Rubbish

Tune down.

January 17, 2020 Joe Leave a comment

What’s to celebrate? Well … a lot of things, Mr. anti-President. Like, I don’t know … the lack of snow? Ummmm …. mail delivery? The persistence of our life-giving sun? Okay … I got nothing.

Hey, what the hell, we appear to settling into a bit of a post-holiday funk here at the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill, our adopted home. Like most bands of our generation, we like to get funky, and there’s not time like the post-holidays for a little funk-a-delic framming. Why not, right? Matt’s got a Fender Stratocaster for the first time in his life (sure, he’s had it for three years, but still … ). I’ve got my Korg SV-1 with funky clav sounds and something that sounds like a 70s Farfisa organ. So when it comes to post-holiday funk, we’re loaded for bear.

It’s fair to say that we don’t have a reputation as a jam band. That doesn’t mean we haven’t done it a whole lot. Big Green rehearsals were usually just jam sessions, interrupted periodically by some swearing and hand waving. Our gigs were kind of ragged back in the day, and I’m not at all sure what we would sound like live right now, on planet Earth, with its normal gravity and its oxygen-rich air. Not the same as playing on the semi-molten surface of Neptune. Nothing like the venues on Henson’s Planet. (What are those like? Well, I guess you’ll just have to ask Henson.)

Okay, our rehearsals were weird, but never THIS weird.

I guess what brought this to mind was listening back to some old live recordings we have kicking around the mill. They’re all on analog audio cassettes, so I have to plug them into Marvin (my personal robot assistant), who helpfully has a cassette deck built into his abdomen, and a couple of mini stereo speakers on either side of his oddly misshapen brass head. (He’s like a walking ’80s boombox … except for the walking part.) Anyway, we would extend cover songs to keep people dancing or milling about or doing whatever they were doing that didn’t involve chucking things at us. That typically entailed some longish guitar solo by whoever was working with us at that time – either the amazing Jeremy Shaw or the astonishing Tony “Ace” Butera, either one of whom could shred hard enough to peel the paint off the walls. (Though, in all honesty, most of the venues we played in those days didn’t have a lot of paint left on the walls.)

So … here’s to the funky jam. Kick out the jams, motherfuckers. Let me hear you say “yeah.” Now let me hear you say “Madagascar”. Now … uh … I got nothing.

Usual Rubbish

Robo-mill.

January 10, 2020 Joe Leave a comment

Yes, I know the clothes washer is running. I was trying not to speak too loudly, but it appears to have overheard what I was saying earlier. This is a fine kettle of soup. Wait … what’s happening in the kitchen?

Arrgh. Hi, out there in web land. Hope all is well with you. Over here in Big Green – land (not to be confused with big Greenland, the island), the year is getting off to a rocky start. Nothing too surprising in our world. It gets a bit annoying having to tip toe around this place, but we have to be more careful than usual, now that Mitch Macaphee, our mad science advisor, has finally delivered the big-ass Christmas present he warned us about late last year. We all thought he was just winding us up, but there actually was a rabbit in the hat, as it turns out, and well …. now it’s out.

Now, I know what you’re all thinking: “Joe, Joe! What did Mitch get you? What’s the present? Tell us NOW!” Just calm down children, and I’ll tell you. You’ve heard of the Internet of Things (IoT)? How about smart home technology? Well, if you haven’t, good for you … that means you’ve managed to avoid listening to National Public Radio for the last five years. Interactive houses are all around us these days, and while they are the product of other people’s inventive imaginations, that fact doesn’t preclude the possibility that someone else might re-invent that stuff for his or her own nefarious purposes. What I’m trying to tell you is, Mitch gave us a Smart Mill for Christmas this year. Yes … he wired up the Abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill so that it responds to our every command. Isn’t that something?

Well, yes, it is something. But nothing good, I assure you. For one thing, Mitch has everything set so that it hears every word you say and takes each one as some kind of command. It kind of works like this: Instead of saying some corporate-determined name like “Alexa!” or “Gladys!”, you trigger the “Smart Mill” by saying, “Cheney Hammer Mill!” And just saying “Cheney” won’t work – that will get you a hologram of the former Vice President. And trust me … nobody wants that.

Actually, we’ve had to curtail our euphemisms to a ridiculous degree … one time this week, Anti-Lincoln misplaced his keys and shouted, “Give me a break!” in frustration. Suddenly, Marvin (my personal robot assistant) came wheeling in like an automaton possessed and attempted to break the antimatter emancipator’s right arm. Fortunately Marvin lacks the strength to do such a thing, but still … he could just as easily been a competent robot, compelled to violence via wi-fi by a malevolent electronic brain hidden in the bowels of the Hammer Mill. And then there’s the song lyrics. Damn!

Suffice to say that we are not enjoying the mad science version of IoT, It’s a lot like the mad science version of everything else, frankly. The only upside I can see is that it can do mundane stuff like this: “Cheney Hammer Mill: Publish this blog post!” Zing!

Usual Rubbish

Unresolved.

January 3, 2020 Joe Leave a comment

I had that piece of paper five minutes ago. Did you see it? Okay … was that before or after you started the fire in the fireplace? Before … I see.

Well, I HAD a list of New Year’s resolutions all set to share with you, but apparently they have gone up in smoke. Sometimes when I ask Marvin (my personal robot assistant) to do something, he gets it done via the path of least resistance. Start a fire, I might say, and if he’s holding a piece of paper, whether it’s some scrap from the day before or the original Declaration of Independence, that becomes the means of ignition. (As an aside, if you’re wondering what happened to the original Declaration of Independence, well … ask Marvin.)

Hmmm … let’s see if I can repeat them from memory. Here goes.

Resolution #1: No disputes with our crazy neighbors.
Hey, look … I know they’re annoying and randomly cruel, but they live upstairs and they’re not going anywhere. The least we can do is make an effort to be more tolerant. We can start by overlooking little slights … like when they try out their new fracking rig by drilling a hole in our ceiling and injecting toxic fluid into our living room.

Resolution #2: Finish what you started, fucker.
Yeah, we need this one. After all, we still have a fresh Ned Trek episode under construction, to say nothing of our anticipated fourth album, still in the planning stages. It’s easy enough to get the ball rolling downhill. But when it comes to … uh … okay, that’s a really lousy metaphor for what I’m trying to express. We drop the ball, that’s the rub. Gotta stop that thing.

It's a metaphor, okay? Jesus ... just let it go.

Resolution #3: Don’t. Just don’t.
Well, we weren’t going to. Not sure where you got the notion that we ever would. We’re not that kind of band, okay. So don’t even think about it.

Resolution #4: Tour more.
Okay, this is a controversial one. Not everyone wants to pile into a ramshackle interstellar vehicle and prattle off to another galaxy just to entertain shapeless blob-like creatures that have never even heard of us. You really have to love that sort of thing to do it for a living, you know? So we’re putting it out there – book away, Anti-Lincoln, and let’s see who’s serious about making some deep space magic.

Resolution #5: Keep your dumb-ass blog posts short
As much sense as this makes, I’m afraid we’ve violated it merely by penning this post. What can I say? Half of our new year’s resolutions are straw men anyhow. We can just knock this one down on our way to fulfilling the more important ones.

Resolution #6: Build more straw men
Okay, now you’re just fucking with me. I only have one answer to this, and that’s … fulfill resolution #5.

Usual Rubbish

And for you.

December 27, 2019 Joe Leave a comment

T’was the night before Wednesday, and all through the house not a minion was haunting, not even the louse … who lives upstairs. And this isn’t a house, it’s a freaking mill. Anything else?

Hah. So much for seasonal poetry. Not my best effort, I’m afraid. Hope all is well in your part of the country at this festive time of year. Did racist uncle Bob come up from Montgomery County? Did he break the electric blinds in the dining room again? Thought so. He does that every year, for crying out loud. Then he starts crying out loud. And your pretty little Christmas goes up in flames. Not a sound around the holiday table; just the ticking of the grandfather clock. The ticking! THE TICKING!

Whoa, THAT took a dark turn. My apologies. It’s kind of a subdued Christmas around the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill this year. Sure, we stand at the ready to fill 20th anniversary orders for our first album, 2000 Years To Christmas, a space odyssey. We’re anticipating order #1 … any day, now! In the meantime, one selection off of that now generation-old album, Pagan Christmas, got more than a hundred plays on Spotify last week. That prompted us to include it in this month’s THIS IS BIG GREEN (TIBG) podcast episode, which features a re-broadcast of a musical Ned Trek episode from a couple of years ago, plus some holiday songs, plus …. me talking like an idiot. That’s a holiday trifecta. You’re welcome, America!

What do you get for the Lincoln who has everything?

What else did we get you this year? Well …. there’s a couple of rare coins in my pocket. (Quarters, which are rare when you’re broke.) We also took a few moments to re-post a special Christmas episode of Ned Trek we played two years ago on TIBG. It’s called “It’s a Profitable Life” and it features no less than five Big Green Christmas songs …. and none of them pulled from 2000 Years to Christmas. If you haven’t heard it already, or don’t remember it, well … give it a listen. It’s got Paul Ryan in it, for crying out loud … or a bad imitation of same. And in case you haven’t heard! No, it doesn’t stack up well against the more mainstream holiday classics, but that’s because it’s a cheap-as-hell podcast performed by non-actors derisively portraying well known political figures as thieves and imbeciles. In other words, a dead ringer for the real thing.

Did Santa bring anything else this year? Well, we shall see. If you are very, very good, there may be an orange in the toe of this stocking. Or a lump of coal. If it’s the latter, for crying out loud … don’t burn it!

Usual Rubbish

Joy to it.

December 13, 2019 Joe Leave a comment

No, we’re not doing that this year. Why? Because I said so, damn it. Last year it was a freaking disaster, and I’m not going through THAT again. Right, now … where were we?

Oh, right … penning another blog post. Yes, friends, our longtime companion here at the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill, antimatter Lincoln, was making a crazy suggestion, and I just had to shut it down. Yes, we live with a mad scientist. Yes, he does turn the gravity on an off occasionally just for fun. Yes, I do have permanent injuries that resulted from that kind of horseplay, and rightfully so. But there’s a point at which even people as tolerant as the members of Big Green have to draw a line, and this is it. NO SECRET SANTA. PERIOD.

I mean, I don’t know why people do stuff like that, let alone why someone who is the anti-matter doppelganger of perhaps our greatest president would want to indulge in such a bankrupt and troubling holiday tradition. Now if Anti-Lincoln were Anti-Buchanan or Anti-Johnson (the first), I could understand. But jumping Christ, does the man not remember even one thin year ago? We drew names out of a hat one frigid afternoon … and it was all downhill from there. Our mad scientist Mitch Macaphee drew my name, as luck would have it, and so he gave me the gift for the man who has everything and doesn’t mind losing it all – weightlessness! (He’s had this thing about gravity over the last few months. It’s a little troubling.)

Who did I draw? Anti-Lincoln. I found an old fashioned two-man saw and gave it to him. He proceeded to use it on our best shade tree. I guess I should have saw that coming. It’s a bit like buying beer for your neighbor without giving a thought as to whether he or she might have a drinking problem. (He does.) Then of course, all of our names were drawn by the city elders, who sought to evict us from this drafty old mill. We outsmarted them by coincidentally being out of town on the day they came to get us. But then came the nasty upstairs neighbors, and well … from there you know what came next. I won’t draw you a picture. (Unless that’s what you want for Christmas.)

Hey, suckers … our first album, 2000 Years To Christmas, is celebrating its 20th birthday this year. Great time to check it out, particularly if you’ve been cased in aspic since 1999. Give it a listen right now. Or not. Totally up to you, man.

Usual Rubbish

T’is the seizin’.

December 6, 2019 Joe Leave a comment

No, you’re not on my list, and for one very good reason: I don’t have a freaking list. I can see about getting you on Anti-Lincoln’s list, but I don’t think that’s the kind of list you want to be included on, if you know what I mean. A word to the wise.

Yes, I’m afraid it’s that time of year again, friends. And once again I have to explain to Marvin (my personal robot assistant) how the world of humans works. You’d think after twenty years he would have some of this stuff encoded into his memory banks, but no … every holiday season it’s human nature 101 and elements of capitalism. What the hell am I, anyway, a freaking community college for robots? Hey …. not a bad idea, really. We’ve got the space, and at least a couple of spare power strips they can plug into. We could call it Robotech, order some jerseys and pennants and …. WHAT AM I SAYING?

Christmas is always confusing, right? For one thing, it’s a consumer frenzy, at least for half of the population. For the rest of us, it’s mostly about blocking our ears when we go to the grocery store so that we don’t hear the holiday loop, playing over and over … something we of Big Green find particularly irritating, as they almost never include any selections from 2000 Years To Christmas, our now-classic holiday album, only this year celebrating its 20th anniversary. And while millions are charging their way into credit oblivion, we remain cloistered in the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill, crazy neighbors right upstairs, and the bailiffs at the door. “The law is an ass,” I keep shouting at them, and they just keep pounding.

Are they still pounding on the door? Sounds like it.

Well, you know what they say about the law. First comes the pounding, then comes the impounding. And while I’m explaining capitalism to Marvin for the nineteenth time, I may as well share this small lesson with you, namely the part about what happens when you pay neither rent nor property taxes for years on end. As dyed in the wool collectivists, we are merely seeking shelter where shelter is available (such as it is), but that carries little weight with the local constabulary, whose minions are apparently under orders to evict us in time for the Christmas pageant. They want to see us shivering in our second-hand galoshes on the side of the road as the yuletide procession trudges past the hammer mill entrance. How festive these men in blue can be!

Right, well … in any case, if you want to help with our legal defense fund, celebrate this Christmas with a 20th anniversary edition of 2000 Years To Christmas, available now from us or from online streaming/download services. We’ve got a few signed copies, so if you want one, let me know. Just don’t tell the bailiff … he’ll want one, too.

Usual Rubbish

Thankfulness.

November 29, 2019 Joe Leave a comment

I made a list of important things to include on the blog post. Now where did I leave it? What’s that? I used the back of it for a grocery list then threw it away? Right, well … they weren’t THAT important.

As is apropos of the season, here at Big Green, there is a lot to be thankful for. Sure, we may seem like just another cynical rock band, iconoclasts, always questioning authority, taking the road not taken, bending pretzels the wrong way, riding bicycles with square wheels, etc. But that doesn’t mean we’re ungrateful. Hell no!

I’m thankful for the roof over our heads. At least the parts that don’t let the rain in. After all, we spent a good portion of the year in the potting shed, so being back in our own squat feels like a million bucks, even if it leaks from time to time.

I’m thankful for having a personal robot assistant. Hey, not everyone can say that, right? Not only do I have the full and (somewhat) able assistance of Marvin (my personal robot assistant), I also enjoy the benefits of having his inventor Mitch Macaphee close at hand as our resident mad science advisor. So if Marvin needs an oil change, new air filter, set of tires, software upgrade, etc., the shop is right downstairs. It’s that easy!

I’m thankful, also, that I finally got the next episode of Ned Trek edited and sent over to Matt for finishing. Freaking took me weeks, people. This one is a musical, too, so not only can you look forward to a completely ridiculous mashup of classic Star Trek, contemporary conservative politics, and Mr. Ed, but you’ll get no less than eight new Big Green songs, all for the low, low price of absolutely nothing. And instant delivery, on demand. Beat that, Jeff Bezos!

Speaking of billionaire dreams, it’s that time of year again … and this time around, we mark the 20th anniversary of the release of our first album, 2000 Years To Christmas. It makes for a great stocking stuffer, though I don’t recommend wearing any stockings stuffed with this CD, unless you want a one-way ticket to the podiatrist. You can get a copy, digital or disc, from some random slave of Jeff Bezos, play it on your favorite streaming services, or get it direct from the Big Green collective – just use the payment methods described on our music page, or email us for alternative arrangements. We will be giving away free discs to random people who ask for one, so don’t be shy …. talk to us.

Usual Rubbish

One score years ago.

November 22, 2019 Joe Leave a comment

Well, it’s, I don’t know, the album’s China anniversary. That makes it sound like we’re traveling to Beijing. Not that I wouldn’t, if luncheon is provided … but I must be fed, or I remain at home.

Yes, who can believe it, folks … it’s been 20 years since the release of our first album, 2000 Years To Christmas, or at least I think it is. Totally makes sense, in a way. After all, twenty years ago was the year two thousand, so that’s when we would have done it, pursuant to our obsession with accuracy. Hah! As if! We dropped the album at some weird ass time to accommodate the disc production schedule. They were taking their time about whittling those CDs. I know it’s painstaking work, but really …. six weeks? Outrageous.

Well, our Indonesian sweat shop finally churned out the product, weeks after Christmas. Picture rows and rows of workers, chipping away at blocks of plastic, knocking off everything that doesn’t look like a CD, then hand-painting each one with a degree of consistency no man would think possible. Work like that takes time. That’s why we don’t release a lot of albums here in Big Green land. There simply aren’t enough man-hours in the day to produce albums the old-fashioned way … the way we did it back in 1999.

Damn. Sure doesn't look twenty.

That’s actually when this blog started, as some of you may recall. I began doing posts so that people who went to the URL on our album would find something when they got there. We also posted the album on mp3.com, which was a thing back then. There was a whole separate digital release on that platform, simultaneous with the release we did through The Orchard, which included all of the popular ecommerce sites at that time. Needless to say, it was a million seller. (I have a million in my cellar … ba-dum crash!) 2000 Years To Christmas remains the only album we ever made that actually got reviewed. We’re working hard to stay at that impressive level of obscurity. (Hey … it doesn’t happen all by itself.)

So … happy birthday, 2KY2C! You’re almost old enough to drink in New York State.

Official site of the band Big Green