Tag Archives: Marvin

Usual Rubbish

Taking stock.

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Run that one again. Yeah, that’s right. Hmmmmm …. I forgot about that part. Okay, rewind it and let’s hear it from the top. Yep, yep. Heard that before.

Oh, hi. Joe of Big Green here. Just listening back to some old tracks. Every time we’re in-between projects or waiting for something to happen, the amateur archivist begins to take hold within me and I start pulling out the old stuff. Some of it’s on reel to reel, some on cassette, some on DAT, some just written on an old sheet of note paper. When you’ve been doing something for 30+ years, you have a lot of leave-behinds.

While I’ve been waiting for Matt to finish the latest episode of Ned Trek (now in the works), I thought it might be a good time to back up the masters for Cowboy Scat: Songs in the Key of Rick, our 2013 album about cousin Rick Perry, Governor of Texas, 2012 presidential candidate, and once again a member of the Republican electoral field. Our Roland 2480, which we used to record that album, is in somewhat shaky condition and has no internal means for backing up data. That means we have to port the sound files over, track by track, to my install of Cubase LE. I’ve done most of the songs; still a substantial way to go. Booooring work, frankly, but you gotta do it. Sort of.

Play it again? Yup.If this keeps up, I’m going to do a deep dive into some unreleased material from yesteryear. I was listening to a live tape of us from back in 1993. That’s never been transcoded, so hell, time to get busy. Marvin (my personal robot assistant) can get started on that anytime. Or not. (He thinks transcoding involves switching his gender identity somehow. Not sure where he got THAT idea.)

There is one other thing keeping us pointlessly busy. It’s the new site we launched for Ned Trek. The URL is www.nedtrek.com and it features five selected episodes from the now 24-show run of this ludicrous mockery of classic Star Trek, occasionally set to music. Go there and binge, folks – it’s free, as audio should be.

Off we go again. More archiving. This place is like the Library of Congress.

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

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

Dang me.

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Here we are. Another late Spring arrives in the middle of freaking nowhere. Birds are singing, grass is growing, the underemployed ice cream vendor is driving a superannuated truck up your street, playing “Pop goes the weasel” (or 4 bars of it). Life is good.

I don’t know if you’ve ever lived in an abandoned Hammer Mill in upstate New York over the course of the coldest winter anybody can remember. I mean, damn! We were frozen solid, stuck in the ice for five whole months. The bill collectors had to come after us with ice picks. Visitors from Neptune had to go home half way through their stay – THAT’S how cold it was. (How cold was it? Well … )

So hey … when a little warm weather comes this way, it’s a big deal. Everyone is starting to get into their temperate habits. The mansized tuber has been arranging flower pots. Before you ask, no … he does not have a green thumb. They are both “suburban titanium”. He just plays with clay pots – stacks ’em, shuffles ’em, smashes ’em sometimes. Then there’s Marvin (my personal assistant) and his croquet set. You wouldn’t think he had the agility, but then he exclusively plays against people from the 1910s.

Marvin, croquetI saw anti-Lincoln crawling out of the local public house. At least he’s got a hobby. Fact of the matter is, I admire anti-Lincoln for having the ambition to get off of his doppelganger ass and venture out into the night. I and my fellow core Big Green members (or member) haven’t been near a nightclub in, well, years, particularly when you’re talking about terrestrial venues. No, it’s not because we are impossible to work with, or that we draw the wrong kind of crowd. That’s all true, of course, but the main reason we don’t show up in the local clubs is … well .. lack of ambition, motivation, you name it.

So, dang me. We all observe the arrival of summer in our own ways, some lamer than others.

Podcast Plug. Hey, want to hear Matt and me talk about Al Jolson? Or perhaps our most ludicrous episode of Ned Trek (our Star Trek parody) yet? Give our latest installment of THIS IS BIG GREEN, our podcast. Then tell me about it @BigGreenJoe.

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.

Usual Rubbish

Bam boom.

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What are you going to do, play on garbage cans? That works for some songs, but how long can it possibly hold up? We need a more permanent solution to our problem. (Did I say that?)

squxOkay, so … this will come as no surprise to any long time followers of Big Green, but we make recordings using technology roughly equivalent to stone knives and bear skins, as the late Leonard Nimoy once put it. (My guess is that he had 1000 times the resources when he cut “Mr. Spock’s Songs from Outer Space,” but I digress.) We are plagued by technical glitches and the spotty performance of superannuated recording equipment, including a first generation digital workstation with no practical means of exporting song data or sound files (namely a Roland VS-2480 from the year 2001). It is choked with projects and ready to keel over.

Now, don’t get me wrong … we have invested in newer technology. Mitch picked up a new blender last week. Great for daiquiris (I hate daiquiris!) and it makes a nice whine on high. Marvin (my personal robot assistant) installed a new oscillator the other day. THAT cost a packet. Seems like when it comes around to music gear, the well runs dry. Not freaking fair, I say. But then, I’m liable to say anything by this point in the day, or perhaps just build sentences using words that Android suggests (Android:) the same time as the most important …

Yeah, see? This machine doesn’t know how to make sense. Give me a rudimentary non-verbal robot assistant any day. Still, with our grueling production schedule – 20 songs a year, sometimes 50, sometimes umpteen thousand – we need to come up with a way of plugging these suckers together, like widgets on an assembly line. I’m sure this is the type of problem all songwriting teams have encountered since the beginning of recorded music. The difference between them and us is, well, we’re not paid. But it’s the mission that matters! Huzzah!

What is our mission again? Oh, right. Finish the songs.

Usual Rubbish

Pod-where? Dunno.

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Not a real good bookkeeper, I admit it. Never have been particularly good with numbers. Don’t know much about geometry. (There’s a song in this somewhere.)

Tubey and the stump in the courtyard.So what happened to the March podcast? Well, as you’ve guessed if you follow our various pointless postings in cyberspace, we have moved to a bi-monthly format, given the production demands of Ned Trek, particularly the musical episodes. We’re currently producing five or six songs for what will ultimately be the June episode, and we should be recording the April episode in a week or so. So … production is moving forward, but like Issa’s snail climbing Mount Fuji, it is proceeding “slowly … slowly.”

My illustrious brother had a cold for a couple of weeks, like half of humanity up here in the great frozen north country. He spends a good deal of his day outdoors, feeding and entertaining all manner of wild critters. Not so different from being in the restaurant business, actually, and you know how demanding THAT can be. In any case, that pushed our production schedule back a couple of weeks … enough time for Mitch Macaphee to flesh out our plan to start a Mars colony before the end of the decade. (Well, THAT certainly took a strange turn.)

That leaves us a brief opportunity to mark the return of Spring and all the traditional rites associated with it. Marvin (my personal robot assistant) has taken it upon himself to erect a maypole in the hammer mill courtyard. Sure, it’s only five feet tall … and yeah, he made it out of the remnants of a sawed-off telephone poll, but it’s a good conversation piece, at least, and now the mansized tuber has some companionship out there as the warmer months arrive. Spring is busting out all over.

Cowboy Scat on YouTube: We posted another couple of songs to the YouTube playlist. For any of you who haven’t heard the whole album, here’s how to give it a listen.

Usual Rubbish

Mars Zero.

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I don’t know, Mitch. It could work, or maybe not. Let’s give it a shot, then. Just promise me one thing – no launch tests in the courtyard, okay? Last time you tried a stunt like that the neighbors called in the local SWAT team. It took all of our collective savings to get Marvin (my personal robot assistant) out of jail.

Talk about LAME!Oh, hi. Just settling a few details with our mad science adviser, Mitch Macaphee, recently repatriated from the dwarf planet Ceres. Mitch is helping us plan the launch of Big Green’s newest venture. Let me give you the background. You’ve all heard of Bas Lansdorp’s Mars One project, no doubt. Lansdorp is inviting volunteers to go on a one-way mission to colonize Mars. He says he can get the whole thing going in time for a 2025 launch date.

Well, here at Big Green’s abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill, we way that’s pure bullshit. Lansdorp is obviously engaging in gross exaggeration – an exercise in self-aggrandizement, no doubt. 2025 indeed! The notion is ludicrous on its face. Why, with Mitch’s help, we could get to Mars tomorrow (or, at least, next week sometime). And it wouldn’t be a suicide mission like Lansdorp’s; our missions are decidedly two-way. That’s just how we roll.

So we’ve decided to launch a new project we’re calling Mars Zero. No, it’s not a new low-calorie candy bar or soft drink. Mars Zero is our effort to claim Mars for colonization a full five years before Lansdorp’s goons get there. The red planet is ours! We saw it first! (I’m speaking for Mitch, here. He gets a little overheated about this stuff.)

Want to be a part of the Mars Zero crew, set to leave the surly bonds of Earth in April of 2020? Just contact us via our comment form or our Facebook page or our Twitter account – whatever. We’ll test your endurance through feats of strength and … um … endurance. (Send us valuable government coupons, known as money, and we’ll waive the feats of strength.)

Cowboy Scat on YouTube. Speaking of endurance tests, we’ve uploaded the first installment of our album Cowboy Scat: Songs in the Key of Rick to our YouTube channel. Give it a listen and let us know what you chuck … I mean, think.