Here’s a quick update on what’s happening with Big Green: Not Much. At least not yet. Yes, the rumors are true, we are working on a new project – our first album since the release of Cowboy Scat: Songs in the Key of Rick ten years ago (to almost universal condemnation). You’ll be glad to know that we are committed to meeting and even exceeding the high standards we set with that album. You heard it here first.
While you’re waiting for the new album to surface, we will continue posting random bits from the archives, including some previously unreleased holiday recordings. So keep one eye on our YouTube channel (https://www.youtube.com/@biggreenband) and one eye on the road. If you have a third eye, reserve that one for gazing into the eternal void.
Yeah, I don’t have time for greeting cards. Take them away, Marvin. Give them to the kids down the street. Or some monkeys in the zoo. I don’t care, man – just GET THEM OUT OF HERE!
Sorry for my all-caps utterance, friends. You know how stressful the holidays can be, particularly when your robot doesn’t follow instructions. Now, I don’t want to leave you with the impression that I’m constantly reading Marvin (my personal robot assistant) the riot act. Far from it! We get along like nothing else I can name. (Take my word for the fact that that’s a good thing.)
Like you, we are engaged in a last-minute frenzy in preparation for Christmas, New Years, and other assorted observances. And this year it has been made a bit more complicated by my plan to put on yet another nano concert, like the one I did earlier this year. Turns out concert are more fun when you (a) play an instrument you can play, and (b) involve other people in your music-making. Who knew?
Hello out there!
As luck would have it, we live in a time of burgeoning COVID. It’s like being on a plague ship, minus the pleasure of a south sea cruise. The upshot for us musicians, of course, is that we can’t stand each other’s company … I mean, we can’t BE in each other’s company. If we share the same space, the smell …. I mean, the VIRUS might kill us. (As is my custom, when reading that line, I pronounce the word “kill” as KEEEL.)
Some may accuse me of harboring resentments for other musicians. That is not the case. I don’t harbor them, I nurture them. But in the end, we must all get along, at least better than we did at the beginning. So we need the means to play together in a way that won’t leave us all dead. (Again, following my personal custom, I pronounce the word “dead” as DAY-ID.)
Sophisticated technology unleashed
Right, so how do you play together without being together? Technology! There’s this thing called the internets, and I’m guessing it just might catch on. You just set up your instrument at one end, play like the devil, and the music goes round and round, woah woah woah, and it comes out there. My advisors (Mitch Macaphee) tell me that there’s room enough in the internet tube for music to go both ways, so you can jam with someone on the other end of the tube. Holy cats!
Now, I know Mitch has suggested some crazy things in the past. Shit like that gonzo underground tour he dreamed up a few years back. But this time, THIS time, he may be on to something. Or just on something. In any case, yesterday he handed me the business end of something that looked like one of those Dr. Seuss instruments, like the Zimbaphone or whatever the hell. If you hold the thing up to your ear, you can vaguely hear something that sounds like Matt playing his guit-fiddle. Damndest thing.
Let’s get ready for something … anything
I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for something. And if I have anything to do with it, it will involve me playing musical instruments into the Dr. Seuss invention known as the internets. When and if that happens, you will be the first to know. Or maybe the second or third to know, but certainly in the top ten.
I don’t think that’s the right box, man. I keep the glass bulbs in the box marked “winter gloves” and the tinsel in the box marked “soup can collection”. That box is marked “Christmas decorations”, and that’s where I keep my soup can collection. And my winter gloves.
Oh, hey. I hear you knocking, but you can’t come in. No, I’m not being anti social. I just don’t want to spoil the surprise. We’re working on our Christmas pageant, and we’re hoping that no one will guess this year’s theme before we finish our parade floats. I’ve had Marvin (my personal robot assistant) run out for some more plaster of Paris. What’s that, Anti-Lincoln? Are you sure? Damn. Marvin went to Paris.
What’s in a theme?
I can tell you what the theme won’t be this year. Anti Lincoln wanted to do a reconstruction-themed Christmas. I told him that we simply couldn’t do it justice. Also, our crazy neighbors upstairs would come at us with torches for advancing what they’ve been calling Critical Race Theory. Much as I like the idea of pissing them off, I think we’ll let that one rest.
Then there was the mansized tuber’s idea. Do you really want to hear it? It’s kind of predictable. He had some goofy notion that you could find a fir tree, chop it down, haul it through the snow and back to the Mill, then poke the trunk into a base so that it stands upright. What then? According to tubey, you hang little baubles and lights from the carcass, and when you wake up Christmas morning, they’ll be a surprise under the dead tree. Crazy shit.
Living in Christmas past
Hey, in all honesty, we’re getting older. And when you get on in years, there’s a tendency to look back a bit. We’ve got a kind of storied Christmas past, which is to say that we’ve got a lot of stories about it. Of course, there’s 2000 Years To Christmas, our first album. Then there’s all those Xmas episodes we did on THIS IS BIG GREEN. And don’t forget the fractured carols we sing when we’re drunk, in any season.
Suffice to say, we’ve got a lot of material. If we actually opt for a pageant this year, there will be singing. No dancing, though – unless you count what Marvin does when he updates his operating system. Will there be a full band performance? Well …. not likely. But you may see me sitting in front of a cheap camera, strumming hesitantly on a guitar.
Our pledge to you, dear listener
One promise: I won’t play any Cowboy Scat songs. That’s final. That wouldn’t be Christmas-y. (If you want more promises, I’m taking requests – just use the comment form, below.)
There it is again. See it? That white stuff, floating down from the sky to vex us. Why, Lord, why? I only just pulled the tarp off the hole in the roof last Saturday, and now this! MITCH!!
Sorry, folks. Didn’t mean to melt down all over the blog post. It’s this damnable weather that’s got me riled up. Freaking snow, coming down through the sky-wide gap in the roof of the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill, our adopted home. As it that isn’t bad enough, Anti-Lincoln is in the forge room making snowmen …. like a child! So un-presidential. (Which, I suppose, is to be expected.)
Everyone complains about the weather, but nobody does anything about it. Of course, not everyone can do anything about it, and what makes this April snow particularly frustrating is the knowledge that we have here amongst us someone who actually can control the weather. I’m referring, of course, to our esteemed mad science advisor Mitch Macaphee, who has toyed with atmospheric disturbances as a pass time, but seems completely unwilling to use his knowledge for the good of his comrades. You’re no freaking use, Mitch – face it!
Well, I suppose if it’s going to be winter again, maybe we should put together another Christmas album. God knows we have enough numbers. Anyone who has listened to our podcast, THIS IS BIG GREEN, over the past ten years knows that we’ve recorded at least an album worth of ridiculous Christmas songs over that time. Why not package them up, tie them in a bow, and toss them out to the masses? Why the hell not? Happy Hella Days!
As Dylan said, I’ve got a head full of ideas that are driving me insane. None of them are any good, but better to have bad ideas than no ideas at all, right? Or …. maybe not. In any case, I know I’m probably over-reacting to the weather. I’m not sure the world is ready for another Big Green Christmas album. (In fact, I’m not sure Big Green is ready.)
So, maybe put a hold on the Christmas project, and pull the tarp back over what used to be a roof. Then close the freaking windows and stoke up the boiler. I’ll ask Marvin (my personal robot assistant) to put some more coal on the fire. In fact, you go out right now and buy a new coal scuttle. Yes, you do that before you dot another i, Marvin robot!
Wait, what? It’s over? That was fast. How about Michaelmas? Is that over too? Okay, well … I guess I wasn’t paying close enough attention. Was it fun? Did everybody have a good time? No? Ah … okay.
Yeah, I know – 2020 sucked, all the way to the end, right? That appears to be the consensus. Here in the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill, Big Green has been known to keep Christmas in an unusual – perhaps singular – way. Like last year, when we built a big plaster volcano and set it off at midnight. Or three years ago, when we all got really, really high, then ended up trampling all over our neighbor’s chocolate pterodactyl farm (though the next day they denied ever even having one in the first place – strange). This year, on the other hand, was a low-key affair, given the COVID restrictions that even we observe … with the exception of our mad science advisor, Mitch Macaphee, who eschews masks in favor of an ultraviolet force field device he wears around his neck. (It glows when it’s running – very impressive, particularly after lights out … which in the Hammer mill, comes around sunset.)
Anywho, you may have noticed that we dropped an episode of THIS IS BIG GREEN, our podcast, lately on a kind of hiatus, but still just about kicking. Yes, like everything else about this year, it’s kind of lame, but at least it hearkens back to a simpler time …. such as the year 2017. In any case, here’s what’s in the show:
Ned Trek 35: The Romney Christmas Special / Ned Trek Reunion Special. Originally broadcast on Christmas 2017, this non-episode of Ned Trek is patterned after cast reunion specials they used to run for, I don’t know, the Brady Bunch, or …. some other tripe. Pearl is played by a different annoying actor. The Nixon Android is present, but only the guy inside the Nixon Android suit, not the voice actor who read his lines. (Note: Ned Trek is an audio podcast.) The show includes a bunch of Big Green Christmas songs, including an early mix of Bobby Sweet, remakes of Plastic Head, Christmas To End, and He Does It For Spite, and others thrown together to round out the farce. (Don’t miss the cheesy T.V. pop version of Away in a Manger at the start.)
Older Ned Trek Songs. We included a few numbers from Ned Trek 15: Santorum’s Christmas Planet, as we haven’t spun these in a good long time. They include Christmas Green (a Romney song), Horrible People (a Ned song), Neocon Christmas (a Pearl song), and Make That Christmas Shine (another Romney song, a version of which is posted on our YouTube channel).
Song: Pagan Christmas. Once again this year, we included this track from our first album, 2000 Years To Christmas. For a variety of reasons, this track gets a lot of play around Christmas. Our main streaming platform has us down for more than 300 plays this month, which for us is a lot. Kind of a minor hit with the pagan / wiccan crowd, particularly over the last ten years. Glad to have them as listeners.
Yep, it was a clip show. I know, man. Like everyone else, we’ll try to do better in 2021. Happy new year, campers!
Okay, let’s do your presents. Start with the big one. No, not that one – the bigger one. How can you not see that? It’s almost 3 centimeters across!
Oh, hi. Just caught us in the middle of our annual Christmas ritual – gathering around the abandoned drill press in the Cheney Hammer Mill and taking turns opening our gifts from Satan …. I mean, Santa! (Unfortunate typo, though one that may find a receptive audience among the fans of Pagan Christmas). It’s Marvin (my personal robot assistant)’s turn, actually, but of course the order of the present-opening makes no difference. It’s the thought that counts, right? And well … a certain amount of thought went into this year’s pile of sugar plums. (Just to be clear – there are no actual sugar plums in the offing. That’s just a metaphor.) Not in the sense that they were well thought-out, but due to the fact that … well … we had very little cash to work with.
Times being what they are, we haven’t been playing any gigs – along with the rest of the musician world – due to COVID club closures and the simple fact that we’re too shiftless to find club work in the first place. (Usually the first place we play is an unspeakable dump. Now, the second place … that‘s worth the booking right there.) For that reason, this year we were forced to resort to nano-gifts – gifts that would be totally awesome at normal size, but which are shrunk down to near-microscopic dimensions, just to keep the costs down. For instance, our gift to Marvin is a 3 centimeter long bicycle that Anti-Lincoln lifted off of somebody’s charm bracelet. Now before you start in on me, let me just say that I don’t condone that sort of behavior – Anti-Lincoln acted on his own initiative, as he often does, and well … times being what they are.
Actually, we did see a couple of practical gifts. For instance, Mitch Macaphee gave me a guitar string, full-size – a G string. It was a little hard to wrap, without the envelope it originally came in, but he managed – longest, skinniest Christmas present I ever saw, frankly. I think he pulled it out of one of Matt’s sets, but I didn’t want to say anything – when Mitch is in a good mood, best not upset the apple cart, so to speak … because the apple cart may contain a few hand grenades. Matt, for his part, received an aluminum thimble, which can be used for sewing, or drinking small drinks, or as a bottleneck on a very tiny guitar, which itself would have been a totally appropriate gift for Nano Christmas. After all of the exchanges, we all sat around the fire (i.e. the part of the mill that happens to be on fire today) and had a cup of what passes for eggnog, but what is probably some soy milk that was left out of the fridge for a few too many days. (Hey … a little nutmeg and who could tell the difference?)
However you celebrate, whatever you celebrate, I speak for all of Big Green when I say happy holidays and be well. (And may your Christmas be more macro than nano.
Did you hear that just then? That faint sound of bells ringing in the distance? That can only mean one thing …. the elementary school up the road is having a fire drill again. Third one this week.
Oh … and of course, it’s December again, the month of joy and celebration. Which means, in this year of our lord 2020 (which happens to be the year of YOUR lord 2020 as well), we are fast approaching the first anniversary of the twentieth anniversary of the release of our first LP, 2000 Years To Christmas, a space odyssey … I mean, an album by Big Green. Now when I say “LP”, I mean “CD”, actually, because we never pressed vinyl on any of our records. That’s for the heavy wallet brigade, my friends, though we have considered converting Marvin (my personal robot assistant) into some kind of record-cutting machine. (For the record, he’s not keen on the idea.)
Yeah, so here we are, a year later, still flogging the thing. And why not, right? Our first album is 21 years old. It can buy a drink in New York, maybe two. (If it can find an open bar, of course.) But even more significant is the fact that the album is themed to the season. It is, after all, a Christmas album in a way – not a collection of traditional carols and popular songs, but an alt-rock album written on the theme of Christmas. That’s why December is such a special month around the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill, our adopted squat-home. Of course, there’s also the arrival of heavy snow, which typically comes through sections of the roof that are no longer quite as roofy as they used to be. That makes December extra special, too.
Now, I don’t want you to think that we’re just huddled here in our drafty mill, sifting over the artifacts of a career that’s long since gone sour. Nothing could be further from the truth. We’re not huddled at all – not in this era of social distancing. Nay, we’re standing a respectable distance apart from one another as we sift. In the hammer mill, that amounts to 17 and a half feet. (We’ve got extra floor space, so it only makes sense to err on the side of distance.) We’re working on some remixes this winter, trying to refurbish some songs that we recorded in a hurry over the past few years. And I think Anti-Lincoln is working on a new shepherd’s pie recipe, though I’m not sure where he got it from. Never heard of a pie made of digestive biscuits and peanut butter. (By pure coincidence, that’s what was lying around the kitchen this week.)
Anywho, have a great December. This year is almost over, people. Damn.
Everyone assembled? Good. What’s that? Marvin, you’re not assembled yet? Okay, hold everything, people. Where’s Marvin’s quick-start manual?
Oh, hello, everyone. Well, the holidays are upon us once again – a very special time in the world of Big Green, I can tell you. It has been said that we know how to celebrate Christmas like no other alt-rock band in history. Now, I don’t know who said that exactly and how they would know, but that’s what I’ve been told, and I’m sticking to my story. In any case, it’s undeniably true that few rock bands have started their recording careers with ostensible Christmas albums, and that we are among that very intimate club of unfortunates. What we haven’t done, of course, is release a Thanksgiving collection, but I don’t think we’re alone there. And I’m not counting albums that were released around Thanksgiving … not the same damn thing at all!
Okay, well … not sure where I was going with that. Let’s just say that, here in the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill, we’re all thankful for a number of enumerated blessings, including many that don’t often receive the thanks they deserve, such as:
Our Roof – Often underrated and unappreciated, our roof keeps the rain off of us for the most part, particularly the parts that don’t have gaping holes in them. Marvin (my personal robot assistant) would be a rusting hulk fit for naught if it weren’t for the remarkable weather-defeating properties of this amazing human invention. Indispensable!
Our Floor – Constantly overlooked (largely due to its location relative to our normal line of sight as humans), the floor of the Cheney Hammer Mill is an important part of the supporting infrastructure beneath us that keeps us from falling through the Earth’s crust into the hot, chewy center of our planet. Trust me – after surviving a subterranean tour or two, we fully understand the danger!
The Air – Hey, it’s easy to forget the stuff you get for free, right? Corporate capitalism has yet to put a price tag on the air we breathe, and so, for the time being, it is still part of what remains of the commons, in the wake of capitalist enclosure. Sure, they may stick it in bottles and sell it to you by the foot-pound while you’re lying in a hospital bed, but short of that, open your windows wide and help yourself to an endless supply of life-giving gasses. You’re welcome!
Gravity – Who says science has to have a satisfactory answer for everything before we can fully appreciate it? Let’s hear it for freaking gravity – that mysterious magnetic power that keeps us from flying off into space and exploding into a cloud of atomized protoplasm. I know it has its problematic aspects, as those who have hung from a cliff or two may attest, but by and large, it’s a lifesaver, and for that we can’t thank gravity enough. (Don’t forget – without gravity, air, floors, and ceilings are basically useless.)
I could go on, but then you’d hate me for keeping you from your holiday dinners. So let me end by saying THANK YOU for listening. Now, start gorging … and remember – no gravity, no feast.
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 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!
On the first day of something my something gave to me … something, something, something, blah, blah blah blah blah, five golden … things!
Arrgh. Leave us face it. For a band that began its recording career with what was ostensibly a Christmas album, we are terrible at remembering even the most oft-repeated holiday songs. Someone – I think it was Marvin (my personal robot assistant) – once suggested caroling around the neighborhood on Christmas eve, hoping for some charitable cast-offs and crusts of festive breads, but when you glom over too many lyrics, you lose credibility as a caroler and instead of handing foodstuffs to you, your audiences tend to throw them at you with some force. Personally, when it comes to seasonal pastimes, I prefer the ones that don’t involve serious festive injuries and having steaming vats of hot holiday cheer poured on us from second-story windows. Call me Scrooge.
We don’t have any really strong holiday traditions. Probably the most enduring one is our annual Christmas week sequestration, imposed on us by the local DPW, which views the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill as a handy place to dump tons of snow they’ve removed from more affluent and generously populated quarters. Sure, we can’t emerge from the mill for a stretch of days, but that gives us a reason to be innovative in our festive celebrations. It’s not about how many gifts you buy, or how much food you throw in the garbage disposal …. no no, Christmas is about the little things. Really little things, like nano particles. You see, when we’re snowed in over the holidays, our mad science advisor Mitch Macaphee takes it upon himself to show us slide presentations of particles he has utilized in his more depraved experiments. A four-hour powerpoint on sub atomic particles – now that’s the kind of Christmas I’m talking about.
Speaking of Christmas, as I mentioned before, we are marking the 20th anniversary of our first album, 2000 Years To Christmas, this season. And when I say we’re “marking” it, I don’t mean urinating on it …. far from it! While 2000 Years To Christmas is not generally available in stores, there are umpteen different ways to hear it, download it, and even get your hands on the disc. If you want to know more, just visit our special Anniversary Page for details.
Otherwise, we’ll be posting a few things over the holidays, as always. Maybe not all twelve days … just the ones we know the lyrics to.
