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Usual Rubbish

Losing wheels.

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Are you sure it’s July? Absolutely sure? How is that even possible? All right, Jesus. Where did the freaking Spring go? No, no … not THAT spring. I meant the SEASON spring! God almighty.

Yes, here we are … three months after posting the last episode of our podcast, THIS IS BIG GREEN, and we’re still short of posting the next episode. Sure, it’s summer, but this is about wading in the water at the nearest beach resort. God, no! This is about the wheels coming off. This is about a leak in the hull. This is about a seized engine, smoke drifting lazily skyward from its molten husk. (Do engines have husks? Well .. ours does.) This is about production delays that are not voluntary, but ultimately necessary.

Brother Matt is our show editor. I think it’s common knowledge that he has been caught up with fledgling Peregrine Falcons for the past three months in particular. Aside from that, his computer imploded, taking many of his work files with it. Not a good circumstance, as you can well understand. I mean, think about it – how the hell are you supposed to complete a Star Trek parody like Ned Trek without the requisite ship sounds, particularly when it’s an audio podcast? The audience has few enough cues to work with, in that there are no visuals and we are lousy actors. (Though strangely that last bit doesn’t stop us from trying to get our point across.)

Sheesh. When things go wrong ... I know what some of you are probably thinking. I know because Mitch Macaphee has built a special mind-reading device that reveals the inner thoughts of anyone who so much as glances at this blog post. So … I KNOW WHAT YOU’RE THINKING … and aside from all of that stuff about Donald Trump’s white baseball cap, I totally agree with you. That said, some of you probably assume that the reason we do Ned Trek is just to provide a vehicle for distributing new songs. There’s some truth to that. We are not tremendously introspective here at the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill, to be honest – a lot of the time, we’re just running on enzymes. Knee-jerk creatives, that’s us.

So hey … don’t give up on THIS IS BIG GREEN. We will be posting someday soon. In the meantime, amuse yourself with classic episodes of Ned Trek at www.nedtrek.com. Lotta laughs there.

Usual Rubbish

Just whistle.

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I’m sorry – that’s as soft as a piano will go. The very word “piano” means soft, for chrissake. (Sure, piano is short for pianoforte, which means “soft – loud/strong”, implying dynamics, but that’s beside the point!) Just get some freaking earplugs already!

Neighbors. I guess you have to have them, even when you’re living in an abandoned hammer mill. I like to think that we make every effort to be good neighbors. I like to think it because, well, it isn’t true, and thinking things that aren’t true is something of a hobby of mine. Actually, we are crappy neighbors – up until all hours of the night, banging on noisy instruments, tooting on sousaphones, launching rockets, creating energy dampening fields that affect entire continents (note: those last two are down to our mad science adviser, Mitch Macaphee).

Our neighbor to the north, a guy named Wilson, has been leaving subtle hints that we are making too much noise. Today, for instance, there was a scroll of parchment posted to our front door with a railroad spike. (Apparently Wilson used to work for New York Central or Amtrak or something.) The parchment had two words scrawled on it in a shaky hand: “TOO LOUD”. I brought it to Anti-Lincoln (who has become our de facto legal adviser, being the only individual amongst us to have attended law school in some centrury) so that he might determine the full implications of this writ. He scanned it with a look of consternation, then offered in his characteristically reedy alto voice, “Yep. Somebody writ it.” Not sure where we’d be without him. (Someplace more permanent, perhaps.)

Well? What does it mean?In spite of what our neighbors think (or demand), making music is an intrinsically noisy business. We are working on an album, for chrissake. That means take after take, recording rhythm parts, experimenting with sound – painstaking work that generates a lot of ambient sound, despite Mitch Macaphee’s efforts to soundproof our makeshift studio. His latest attempt involved having Marvin (my personal robot assistant) hold up sheets of foam core, one in each claw. Did it work? Your answer is nailed to our front door.

Well, we’ll plow on in any case. That’s what we do. If we didn’t do that, we’d have to do something else. And then I just don’t know what we would do. (Got all that?)

Usual Rubbish

Slow month.

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Y’okay. I know. I’m still working on it, okay? What the hell are you, my mother? I AM WORKING ON IT. Leave me aLONE!

Sorry, man. Catching me at kind of a sensitive time, let’s say. I was just being grilled on where the June podcast (and its half-album of new material) is. Worst part of that whole thing is that, the person grilling me is not a person at all. It’s Marvin (my personal robot assistant) … sort of. I say “sort of” because the shaming tirade he just subjected me to was programmed into him by someone else. Who, exactly? Well … apparently one of the few people who listen to our podcast, THIS IS BIG GREEN. So that narrows the possibilities a bit. Someone who has it in for me, big time.

Okay … obviously I owe someone an explanation, even if I don’t know who it is. So here are my top reasons for not having our podcast episode ready at this late date:

  1. Solar Obstruction – At this time of year, the sun is between us and our podcast. What does that mean? I don’t know exactly. The Space Family Robinson used it as an excuse once for not going back to Earth (and ending the show), so I am commandeering it. (Now you’re supposed to say, “But you can maneuver AROUND the sun!”)
  2. Hey ... Great rationale! Can I borrow that?Paper Clip shortage – As you probably know from reading the major newspapers, there is a nationwide shortage of paper clips. This is due to extreme weather caused by climate change – the entire Nevada paper clip crop was lost. Can’t finish a podcast without paper clips. (Oh, you DON’T read the newspapers? Well … that explains your ignorance around this vital topic.)
  3. Work is Hard – Personally, I don’t think this one needs a lot of explanation, do you? Last I looked, work is still really, really hard. That’s why occasionally you get paid for doing it. When work decides to stop being so hard, I’ll start delivering the freaking podcast on time.
  4. Neighbor’s Sousaphone – Kid next door just started playing the sousaphone. I’ll let you know when she gets good at it. (My signal will be uploading the podcast.)

Even with all of these distractions and obstructions, I will endeavor to post the son of a bitch sometime real soon. So call off your robots, people. I hear you!

Usual Rubbish

Mail bag returns.

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Mail's in!Well, it’s been a while. Time to open the Big Green mail bag again, at long last. It’s easy to forget this stuff with all that’s been on our plate the last couple of years. You know, production, minor building repairs, breathing (lots of breathing), and the like. But no matter – we’ll just take a moment away from all of that, wave away the moths, and pull the first missive from its tattered envelope.

Here’s one from Castleton-on-Hudson, NY:

Dear Big Green … Are you the same ne’er-do-wells that used to live in that broken down house on Green Avenue? You know … the one that looks like it tumbled halfway down the gorge and landed on its roof? Because it that WAS you guys, you friggin owe me money.

— Baldric McPlumber

Hey, Baldric … thanks for writing in! Yes, that was us, back in an earlier incarnation (or since we’re talking about rural New York, maybe it should be “inTARnation”). We lived in that broken down house in 1984-5, and next door to it in 1981, so if you have any outstanding bills, just hand them to the people currently occupying those structures. Cheers!

Here’s a note from someone in Madagascar:

Dear Big Green … Your last episode of Ned Trek featured a Mormon dentist by the name of Jillian Mustard. Do you know if she’s accepting any new patients? I’ve got a loose filling in one of my molars, lower left.

— Kranis Frackus

Hiya, Kranis … hope all is well in Madagascar! Nope, I don’t think Jillian is accepting any new patients. She is what we call a “fictional” character, cooked up in the sick, sick mind of my illustrious brother. Any resemblance to actual human beings, living or dead, is completely coincidental. (Unless the resemblance is way too close … in which case, you know who you are.)

One more … this one from San Antonio:

Howdy, partners! I see you posted a whole mess of songs about Rick Perry on your YouTube Channel. It’s almost as if you KNEW Rick was going to run for president again. What manner of beast are you that you can see things that haven’t happened yet?

— T-Bone Pickens

Well now, T-Bone. That there is what we New Yorkers call a “coincidence”. You see, not everything in this highly complex world is connected to every other thing. It’s just a happy accident that I got my lazy ass in gear and posted those songs just weeks before Rick made his fateful decision to throw his ten-gallon hat into the ring. Those songs offer a great backgrounder on the candidate. Don’t underestimate him!

There’s more, but then … you have a life.

Usual Rubbish

Where’s my show?

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Okay, so … where is that script again? Not written yet? Jesus. That useless scriptwriter. Why the hell do we use him, anyway? I should just do it myself. What’s that? Oh … I am the scriptwriter this month? Right. Never mind.

Well, if you’re wondering where this month’s episode of THIS IS BIG GREEN is, um … apparently, I haven’t written it yet. Actually, in point of fact, I haven’t finished writing it yet. Why? Funny story, actually. We’ve been a little busy this past month, what with the arrival of Spring and the advent of extreme weather, out of control vulcanism, and occasional lapses in gravity. No, wait … that’s what’s happening on my favorite sci-fi show. I meant to say, with the discovery of a new element and the isolation of the Higgs … Ooops, that’s what’s happening in the physics research lab. What’s really keeping me from that script is … well …

You know what happens, right? You have something to do, and two months to do it. And you think, hell … I don’t have to start right away. I have stacks of time, right? A week passes, then two … before you know it, the deadline is looming and you’ve done NOTHING. Okay, to be fair … I shouldn’t say YOU when I mean ME. There’s no dressing it up, I’m afraid. I am a lazy freak, shiftless as the day is long. When I think of my serial failings, oooooh, it makes me so MAD!

Not how I roll.Right. Glad I got THAT out of my system. Actually, I have done a draft of the next Ned Trek episode. I’ve submitted it to my copy editor – Matt Perry. I’m HIS copy editor. We edit each other’s work, cutting bits out, adding stuff in, until we’re left with god knows what. That’s why our episodes seem kind of, well, thrown together. That’s the creative process at work, my friends. The chaos goes in before the name goes on.

Then there’s the songs that go with the show. We’re still in production, after a fashion. Our sessions are brief and frenzied, but occasionally productive. Matt yanks out a guitar and starts strumming. I pound on the piano. The wheels turn slowly, but they turn … so keep your eyes peeled.

Usual Rubbish

Get yours here.

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Hey … let’s stop in at the Petrified Creatures Museum. It sounds, well … very dessicated. And interesting. Perhaps. I don’t know … what do YOU want to do, Marvin (my personal robot assistant)?

Yes, we’re taking a day trip. The weather is nice, so it seemed like a good idea to leave the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill behind for a few hours. Trouble is, it’s a little hard to find entertainment that suits everyone’s eclectic tastes. Marvin is a little reluctant to give the Petrified Creatures Museum a look, perhaps because they may mistake him for one of their exhibits and NEVER LET HIM LEAVE. He was scared, even (yes) petrified. Poor creature.

What else is there to do, driving along route 20? Well … there are a lot of campgrounds. There’s an ice cream place called “Banana Dan’s”. There are some really cool mountains, if you like mountains. That should be sufficient to satisfy anyone’s taste. But here I am, in a car full of freaks – Marvin, Anti-Lincoln, Mitch Macaphee, the mansized tuber … Matt refused to go, choosing instead to mind his wildlife charges. Anti-Lincoln is pretty much against everything. Mr. freaking negative. Mansized tuber just wants to go to gardening centers. That’s where he goes to meet other plants. It’s like a nightclub, without the booze. Mitch? He’s only interested in conferences and laboratories. He just stares out the window at the passing scenery, dreaming up formulas for making the whole thing go blooey.

Look, Marvin! (meh)Well … so much for our pleasant day out. What’s next on the agenda? Not much. Just back to the hammer mill. We’ve got some music to work on. Where’s that going? I don’t know … another album, maybe. Not sure how we’ll release it, but we will make it available in some way, shape, or form. Maybe we’ll have Marvin hand deliver it to everyone in Upstate New York. Maybe we’ll sell it in the anteroom of the Petrified Creatures Museum. Maybe BOTH of those things.

One other thing we’re working on – a kind of Big Green subscription service. We’re contemplating the price being somewhere between $0 and gratis. Sign up, and we’ll send you disc copies of our first two albums (while supplies last), a digital copy of our third album, and advance digital releases as they are completed. Still ironing out the details, crunching the numbers, etc. (Very crunchy, those numbers.)

Usual Rubbish

String theory.

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That thing is way out of tune … I mean WAY out of tune, dude. Use my phone. No, not my SMART phone … that Bell Princess phone over in the corner, next to the mansized tuber. The dial tone is a low F#. Just transpose, for chrissake. DIVAS!

Yes, you’re listening in on another Big Green rehearsal. It’s like you’re a fly on the wall. In the Cheney Hammer Mill, that makes you inconspicuous …. not because you’re so small, but because there are so many flies on the wall, you meld in with the multitude. Anyhow, we’re running through a few numbers, putting down tracks, laying in a groove, etc. etc. Sometimes it’s hard to keep all of these various stringed instruments in tune with one another, especially when the city cuts off your electricity, your internet connection, your phone service, your water, and your air. (That last cut-off only happens on Type-M planets.)

No, we haven’t had our electricity cut off this week (yet), but life is still bloody complicated. Four-string bass guitars are hard enough to tune; try a six-string acoustic! Don’t even talk about pianos and organs. (No, really … don’t even talk about them. An off-color word can make them slip out of tune.) Fortunately for me, my keyboards are of the electronic variety, so tuning is as simple as turning a little knob or clicking an item in a graphic user interface. Or pushing on a bender and securing it with tape. (Non-standard method.)

Still flat as a pancake.Matt and I are putting the finishing touches on the next batch of Ned Trek songs. When I say “finishing touches”, I mean “adding essential musical elements without which the songs would be virtually unlistenable.” Details, details. In any case, we have six (or is it seven?) numbers under construction, some of which border on the blasphemous, others tinkering with long-held practices of civilized peoples, still others merely dabbling in the art of giving grave offense. A controversial collection? Depends on your point of view.

Important side note: No animals or humans were harmed in the making of this music. Though Marvin (my personal robot assistant) has suffered slightly from mechanical wrist overuse syndrome (or MWOS), as he is our defacto percussionist.

Usual Rubbish

Inside April.

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Jesus, that’s god-awful. Turn that shit down, man! What the hell are you listening to, anyway? Some kind of reality show reruns? Oh …. it’s our podcast. Nevermind.

Okay, so we have this podcast, see? And it kind of sucks, see? But we’re proud of it anyway, so that naturally leads me to want to tell you all about the latest episode, hot off the presses here at the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill. Let’s take a look under the hood, shall we?

Item the First: Ned Trek XXIII – Doo-Dah Dancing – This episode of our post-modern satirical space opera (a bizarre-ass mashup of classic Star Trek, Mr. Ed, and the 2012 Presidential election) is loosely based on the 3rd season classic ST episode entitled “Turnabout Intruder”, in which Captain Kirk’s body is taken over by an ex-girlfriend/scientist – typical season 3 ridiculousness, and perhaps the most asinine episode ever. In this distorted version of that degraded reality, Captain Willard Mittilius Romney is forced to exchange consciousness with a one-time dance partner with ambitions to, dare she say it, take over the Free Enterprise and rule … the universe! Special appearances by Peter Lorre and former Secretary of State Henry Kissinger, among others.

That's freaking childish.Song: Aw Shoot, by Big Green – This song is from our 2013 album, Cowboy Scat: Songs in the Key of Rick. It’s a funky little number, somewhat reminiscent of the theme music from a bad 80’s foreign sci-fi film whose name I won’t mention. Scandinavian accents are kind of a giveaway.

Put the Phone Down – Matt and I discuss a range of issues touching on matters of vital importance to the future of humankind … NOT. Mostly some bad singing, talk of racist friends of the family, insults heaped upon the memory of Al Jolson, and so on.

Song: Poor Dick, by Big Green – Another selection from Cowboy Scat: Songs in the Key of Rick. This one tells a tale of Rick Perry taking desperate measures to save his pal Dick Cheney by procuring a replacement heart for the ailing Vice President, taking care not to pick one that pumped life-giving blood through the veins of a socialist. Rick finds the perfect donor: Breitbart! Hilarity ensues. Only song I know that uses “aveoli” in a rhyme scheme.

Usual Rubbish

Gearing up.

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You know, any other band would be talking about a summer tour right about now. But that’s what “normal” bands do. They play in front of actual people and stuff. Big Green? Not so much.

There must be SOME clubs out there...Here’s the thing about Big Green. We are not a “normal” band. We are a musical collective, a band of brothers, a loose association of critters, a gaggle of organisms, a … I don’t know, something else that implies more than one of us. And weird. The very suggestion of a “summer tour” brings to mind something quite different from what most people picture. We’re not rolling into Akron or Missoula, playing in a urine-soaked noise cave, and sleeping on someone’s floor. No, sir – typically, we’re sleeping in the urine-soaked cave. That cave? It’s called the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill, our adopted home.

Okay, so we never, ever do normal tours. I’m not saying we never will, but everyone ELSE is saying it, so who am I to argue? No, sir … when we go on tour, it’s not the usual plainclothes, indie circuit – it’s in outer space, on other planets, in other solar systems, and so on. Actually, one time, we did an inner space tour, deep beneath the Earth’s crust, but that was the one exception. So if you heard us, and it was after 1993, you would have had to either (a.) tunneled to the planet’s chewy center or (b.) traveled to Neptune, Jupiter, or the Crab Nebula. Unlikely, I admit.

Anyway, when we want to do a summer tour, we start by looking up. Way up. Hey, think of it this way. The Hubble Space Telescope, now 25 years in flight, has demonstrated that the visible universe is far busier a place than we had ever previously imagined, with fields of literally millions of galaxies within view. In short, there are a lot of punters out there – a lot more than you’ll find down here on old Terra Firma. So what use is it trying to hit it big in America or England or India? We want to be big in M24 and environs. Fuck the Milky Way – it’s podunk, according to sFshzenKlyrn, and he should know … he was DISCOVERED by the Hubble.

So, yeah … there may be a voyage this summer. Grass is always greener in the next galaxy cluster over.

Usual Rubbish

Pit stop.

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Where did you put the GPS? I don’t know this neighborhood very well. Okay, well … pull out that AAA map and unfold it. Yes, I’ll wait. Jesus.

This ride SUCKSWell, you caught Marvin (my personal robot assistant) and I on a little automotive tour of the greater Little Falls, NY area. All it takes is some kind of vehicle – in this case, Mitch Macaphee’s 1968 Chevy Nova – and a little curiosity. Sure, the muffler just fell off (again) and I can see the road going by under my feet, but these are minor inconveniences. Spring is here, people – it’s time to start living the life. Let’s get our sorry asses out of that drafty old hammer mill and fill our nostrils with the scent of new life. Or … not. Up to you.

Sometimes the best of intentions, as you know, lead one astray. It reminds me of a song Matt Perry wrote many moons ago – still applies today, though.

Good intentions, I’ve all these good intentions
My good intentions won’t row the boat ashore
Good intentions, you know I’m good intentioned
Still I watched the world, I watched the world crash to the floor
and I just watched.

Well, I think there’s a lesson in that for all of us. What is it? I don’t freaking know. What am I, Kreskin? Anyway … my one-robot tour of greater Little Falls, NY, is something of a bust. That’s just as well. I should be back at the mill, toiling away at the next couple of episodes of our podcast, as well as all the associated songs. We appear to be up to seven new songs for the June podcast – that, I believe, is a new record. (Perhaps literally … if by “record” you mean “album”). I’ve got a lot of parts to put down, but somehow I can’t move.

Oldest story in the book, right? As soon as you have responsibility thrust upon you, you go looking for the exits. Fortunately, they are easy to find in the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill. There are a lot of missing doors and windows; it’s like living in a king size Swiss cheese.  But have faith – we have recorded Ned Trek 23, it has been sent to our non-union editors in Madagascar, and we expect to post the finished project sometime in the nearish future.

All right, I’m off. Marvin’s got the map out again.