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My friends, the tide has finally turned.
Part of me wants to sneer in disgust, "Well it's about fucking time." But I ain't goin' down that road. Nope. Not after a week like I had not too long ago in which the following events occurred: Bass Player Magazine did another interview with me, Sluggo! became a thing I could hold and kiss and stick into a CD player, SWR agreed to use a track from Sluggo! in a compilation CD they're putting together, MK/BFD NAMM show performances both materialized and solidified...need I say more? You know I will, especially considering that I'm only four weeks away from finishing the book. All in all, a good month. Lots to tell.
So join me, won't you, on this Two Year Anniversary Edition of The Life Of Bryan, which I hope to be (count 'em) three parts: one, an update on all things Beller and BFD; two, the long-awaited track-by-track rundown of Sluggo! (Keneally's version notwithstanding--I'm actually glad he did his so I can try and remain somewhat reasonable in the length department), and three, a cornucopia of sound and picture files we'll eventually call "LOB Sights And Sounds." Hang on to your hats, ladies and gents; I'm back, and my fingers are just itchin' to go.
First, a note from our sponsor. As I write this, I'm sitting in the home office of Casa Beller in Westfield, NJ, and the date is November 29, 1997. And although the Thanksgiving turkey was a little tough last night (the dark meat could easily have been used as emergency shoelaces, or perhaps even rope to tie stuff onto the roof rack of a car), the resources available to me here are second to none. Turkey's one thing, but The Executive Producer doesn't fuck around when it comes to hardware. This Act would not have been possible but for the generous donation of computer equipment by--yep--my dad. He's become quite the freak. I'm typing this out on a laptop PC (133mhz, 1.4 gig) which is hooked up to one of the most amazing machines I've ever seen, an HP OfficeJet500 copier/fax/printer/scanner/food processor/nuclear reactor. Without mentioning the other computer in this very same room, I just wanted to say thanks to him and my whole family right off the bat. I brought the manuscript home with me in the Alternate Reality Drug Dealer Briefcase, and they've all been greatly supportive of me in my literary endeavor, even as I steadfastly refuse to show them even one measly page of my work thus far. See? You're not the only ones.
But let's discuss the book later. I want to talk about Sluggo!. The first thing you should know is this: although you can now order the CD directly from Immune, it will not be available in stores until January. This has to do with distributor and retailer scheduling/budgeting stuff, and not with any dilly-dallying on our part. Apparently, December is a disastrous month to try and release a new album in the marketplace. So bear that in mind if you're waiting for it to show up in your local record store. If you want it bad, and I mean real bad, call 1-900-SEX-BFD1---oops, I mean order the CD from Immune's website. In any event, the real "Sluggo!" talk will happen in the next part, but let me just say right now that I'm so proud to be a part of it that it makes me want to get downright Stimpy-ish about my emotions. Ohhh, Keneally! Oh joy! All I need now is a pair of headphones and a well-worn litterbox and I'm all set.
Perhaps you weren't aware that SWR stands for Stimpy's Wicked Rectum. OK, I'm kidding, but it should--the merchandising would go through the roof. Just imagine the t-shirt possibilities. They've got to get me into the marketing department over there. I suppose that for now, what they've got me doing is enough. First, the big news, an exclusive only-in-the-LOB report: SWR is putting together a compilation CD of instrumental tracks from their most well-known (and some not-so-well-known) endorsers. Guess who's on it? Jimmy Haslip? Sure. Michael Manring? Almost definitely. Marcus Miller? Looking good. Me? Me?! Strange as it sounds, it appears likely that yours truly is gonna be sharing 0's and 1's with the aforementioned heavy-hitters. The man responsible for this Kelly Castro, SWR's Artist Relations Superman (thanks are yours, Kel). Now I know that some of you don't have Sluggo! yet, so the passage below might not make sense to you, but come back and read the following paragraph again after you've listened to it and you'll laugh hard, I promise.
Originally, I'd wanted "Why Am I Your Guy?" to be the track they used, mainly due to the fact that the whole fucking thing is one big distorted bass solo (thanks to the SWR Interstellar Overdrive--now back to your regularly scheduled programming). But no, Kelly insisted, it has to be an instrumental tune so as not to ruin the "vibe" of the CD. OK, I said, flinching, here you go. I gave him the only available option off of the new record: "Egg Zooming," a difficult piece of music for even hardcore Zappa freaks to digest the first time around. I figured he'd get scared and throw the CD out the window; instead, he now hopes to have it in the sequence right after a super-mellow Manring tune, just to frighten people. I can't wait to hear that. They hope to have it done by the last week of January, with a percentage of the proceeds going to the City Of Hope charity for assistance to kids with chronic illnesses. One last note--don't go e-mailing SWR about how you can get one of these just yet. Some of the artists are still being lined up (in other words, some management and publishing companies still need to have their collective cocks sucked), so it won't do anyone any good to run around shouting about the folks on this CD yet. Let's keep it between us, shall we?
Also, if you want to see me in corporate action, head on over to SWR's website at www.swreng.com and go to the "What's New" page. There you'll find the latest SWR Digital Newsletter, written by--that's right--me. It's blatantly commercial, but that's capitalism, baby. And besides, it's nice to write corporate literature for a company whose product you believe in as much as I believe in SWR. I also got to say something nice about a good bass-playing friend of mine (and former beau of the sexpot roomie, for you LOB history buffs), Wes Wehmiller. For those of you who don't know him, Wes and I go way back to Berklee together. He's a sickeningly tasteful bassist, and he's now out on the road with Duran Duran, of all bands. And, of course, he uses SWR. OK, end of advertisement. If you wish, check out the newsletter for yourself, but consider this a warning--I make no attempt at subversion in my duties as SWR-boy. If it doesn't bother me, it shouldn't bother you.
This is a good lead-in to our NAMM show update. 1998's version of the get-the-longhairs-all-in-one-place-and-drink-a-lot convention takes place at the Los Angeles Convention Center, as opposed to its usual winter home in Anaheim. What this means for folks planning to attend the show I'm not yet sure (other than I wouldn't confuse the neighborhood with anything resembling Disneyland), but if you make it, we've got a treat in store for you: BFD performances on the NAMM show floor. Saturday, January 31, it's a double-dip. At 1:30, Keneally and I will be doing the acoustic duo thang at the SWR booth (I am so shameless, am I not?), while at 3:00, it's BFD electric-trio-style at the Dean Markley booth with Toss Panos on drums (we like to keep things interesting nowadays by switching the lineup for every show). Sunday, February 1, it's acoustic at SWR once more, at 12:00 noon. Did I mention the words everything and tentative? Just checking. The Markley show should be very interesting--it'll be the live debut of several Sluggo! tunes.
But doing the Dean Markley show will be a trip for another reason. All the way back in Spring '94, just as Z was preparing to head out on the Shampoohorn tour, I realized that I would be needing many sets of strings. I'd just signed on as a Markley endorser at NAMM that year, so I called up the company and spoke to a guy (who shall remain nameless) with the purpose of ordering said strings. This was a full three weeks before we were slated to leave for New York and the Conan O'Brian show. I was never the kind of guy who left things 'til the last minute, and I wasn't about to start being that way with procuring gear for my first real tour. I figured that three weeks would be enough.
Feeling proud of my ability to handle duties as a professional bassist in LA, I informed my tech (who was also Keneally's and Dweezil's tech as well--maybe that's why he was such an--uh, never mind) that I got a hold of the guy at Markley and that strings were on the way. The tech (whose name shall also remain nameless) was neither impressed nor amused. He snarled at me, grousing about how he was the one who should've been responsible for such matters, and not me. "But if you want to handle it, fine," he seethed. "Go right ahead, new guy." Kind of a grump, the old tech was, but we'd gotten along just fine up until then.
Two weeks later, I still hadn't received the strings. Four days before we left, I was in a state of panic. The tech overheard me complaining to Joe Travers about how long ago I'd ordered the strings, and how I couldn't believe that they hadn't arrived yet. He gloated as gloatfully as he could, "See? Now, if you woulda let me take care of it, you woulda had 'em already. But hey--you're handling it. You're taking care of it, right?" That was when I knew the guy was a prick. But I still didn't have any strings.
I called Dean Markley with a chip on my shoulder, thinking that if only they'd managed to get me the fucking strings on time, then I wouldn't have had to deal with the endless shit Mr. Tech Grump was giving me at Joe's Garage every day. Mr. X at Markley said he didn't know why it was taking so long, and that they'd be there in time for the tour. I hung up shaking with obsessive-compulsive rage.
The strings arrived the day before we left for the tour. Two weeks in, Mr. Tech and I were no longer on speaking terms. This had nothing to do with strings, but I figured I'd mention it anyway.
A little more than a year later, the very same tech was still working for Z when we went to Europe for a short promotional tour. We were back on speaking terms, but I wouldn't say we were buddy-buddy or anything like that. Anyway, a group of mostly crew members, Travers and myself were in a hotel lobby bar (in Paris, I believe). Tech Guy was wasted. It was at this point (the following conversation is paraphrased) that he goes to me, "You wanna know sumthin?'" "What?" I ask. "Well, remember that whole string bullshit last year?" "Yeah," I say, "what about it?" "That guy over at Markley was a friend of mine. I had him hold up the shipment." "You did what?" "Yeah, I had him hold onto it for a while to teach you a lesson. Techs take care of the gear, players play the show. You were new, so I figured you needed a little lesson in how things work." We got in a big argument, but he was so drunk that he wasn't even listening to me anyway.
Several weeks after I got home from Paris, I became an endorser of Fender Strings. I wrote Dean Markley a direct but polite (especially considering the circumstances) letter terminating my relationship with them, mentioning nothing other than Fender's willingness to work with me. I doubt that they cared either way.
Flash forward to the present day. Keneally called me at work (SWR) with the news of the Markley show at NAMM '98. You see, Merl Saunders (former Frank Zappa guitar tech and former Gibson Artist Relations Guy) is now head of Artist Relations at Dean Markley. He and Keneally are old buddies, and Keneally's been a Markley guy for a while now, so it was only natural that a show came down the pike. So now I need to talk with the nuts-and-bolts organizer of the show on Markley's end to see if they plan on having an SWR rig in their booth. And who is this organizer? None other than The Guy Who Shall Remain Nameless At Dean Markley. Keneally mentions my name to him. According to MK, he goes, "Oh yeah. I know that guy." Woo-hoo!!
I called Mr. Nameless from work. While the first few moments on the phone were awkward, eventually we got on OK with each other and discussed what needed to be done to prevent me from having to use one of the rigs they had lined up for the booth (Peavey or Hughes & Kettner...choose your poison. Actually, Peavey's cool--they're nice people and make some cool gear, especially the DPC1000 power amp. But H & K...ouch.) After I felt comfortable enough with the arrangements, I brought up the conspiracy story as relayed to me by Mr. Grumpo-Tech. Mr. Nameless said, "Wow. I don't know what you're talking about." "Really?" "Yeah, really."
So, folks, that means one of two things happened--either Grumpo-Tech lied about the conspiracy and, coincidentally, Markley just so happened to take three weeks to get me the strings and they just so happened to get there on the day before we left...OR, Mr. Nameless just denied the whole affair regardless of the truth. I fault Grumpo-Tech far more than Mr. Nameless for this sad tale of woe, no matter what really happened, but either way, it won't affect the upcoming show at all. We're gonna go up there, kick butt, and try not to get killed in the parking lot when we leave to go home. Ah, the music biz.
OK, let's move onto brighter topics. Tom Wictor, the wonderfully talented writer who first interviewed me for Bass Player some two years ago, was kind enough to propose (to the editor--that's how it's done, folks) a follow-up piece to coincide with the official distributor release of Sluggo! early next year. But the industry-standard 'zine just changed editors. The guy who'd been running the day-to-day stuff, Karl Coryat, was promoted to Editor Supreme or something, which is too bad. Why? Because he was responsible for the following Good Things: the publication of my written piece on Auditioning; the "pick of the month"-style review of "Half Alive In Hollywood, and, most importantly, the running of Tom Wictor's interviews with Scott Thunes and Gene Simmons. There was an element of subversion there, which I liked. In other words, Karl was cool. But Richard Johnson (I believe that's his name, but I may be wrong), the new guy to whom I've not yet spoken, also seems to be cool--he okayed the latest piece on me. Of course, my relationship with BP dates back to the days when Jim Roberts was the man, but now I think he owns the whole corporation. What am I getting at here? I consider myself very fortunate to be someone that they think is worth profiling even once, let alone twice.
The interview itself, which was conducted over a pile of meat and beans at Ernie's Mexican Restaurant in Studio City, touched on several topics, none of which will surprise any LOB regular. You know, Sluggo! (we'll get to that in the next part, I promise), the track with Vai for (can I say it without retching?) Merry Axe-mas (AAAAAAK!!), and the SWR CD as well. But it was weird to discuss working at SWR, turning down paying gigs, and writing a book in the context of a Bass Player interview. I trust Tom completely to not make me look like I've quit the biz entirely, because I haven't. His last question was a doozy: "In a perfect Bryan Beller world, what's the ideal situation? Being a full-time musician while freelancing as a writer, or writing novels and columns while freelancing as a musician?" It took me nearly a minute to come up with something. What I did come up with was tortured enough to be interpreted in a million different ways, which is exactly the way I feel overall. But I will say this--next year will be a music year. I'm weary of the constant discipline that the book demands, and I want to get behind Sluggo! and push with everything I've got. All I have to do now is finish the fucking manuscript. I'm about four weeks away.
Eleven Is A Magic Number looks like it'll clock in at 659 manuscript pages, 53 chapters, 11 parts, and one broken desk chair (the back literally snapped off of it last week, which means two things: one, I've spent way too much time staring at a computer this year; two, I need to go on a diet). But I can see the finish line. I'm currently revising Chapter 37, and by the time this hits the web, I'll be agonizingly close to the ultimate goal. Once final revisions are done, it'll be time to paginate the fucker, type up a title page, and then it's off to find an agent. I'll say it again--this town had better watch out the night after I'm done, because I'm gonna get fucking loaded. I'm thinking about going to the Studio City Bar And Grill, the place where I drowned my post-Vai-audtion despair in a blur of vodka. It's about time to exorcise those demons for good.
Just so you know, to make one Xerox copy of this manuscript at five cents a copy (a decent corporate bulk rate) will cost me $32.95. Anybody out there got an industrial copier I can borrow for a day? I didn't think so. That's OK--when I become a member of Oprah's Book Of The Month club, it'll all be worth it.
On the topic of outsider contributions to the LOB...while the "Ghost Post" from Christian Heilman was a prominently featured (and rightly so) event here in the LOB, that certainly doesn't mean that he's the only thing interactive going on at Moosenet. If you haven't already noticed, there's something new at the MK page called "Sluggo!rama," in which webpage contributions/reactions to the new CD are being actively solicited by CEO Chatfield. We're talking open forum. Anything goes. Tell us what you think, even if it's "we think you suck and your website's too fucking big!" I'd hoped to corral Brad Dahl into a review of Sluggo! that could've been interspersed with my own in the next part, but he's busy moving and being an adult and stuff. I fully expect something wickedly funny from him to hit the "rama" sometime soon (no pressure, Brad). But in the meantime, The Moose will be out looking for donations from others. Maybe even you.
But some people just couldn't wait, and that's why the third part of this glorious Act, the "LOB Sights And Sounds," will eventually exist. Here's a quick preview: an Easterner named Ron Spiegelhalter sent me a pile of chopped up Keneally WAV's a while back, and I've been meaning to get them up on the web, but I just kept getting distracted. They're perfect for system sounds, such as "computer start-up" (opening cadence of Disc 2 of Half Alive), "exit windows" (the "BA-DA-DAT" in "O'Bannon), "this program has performed an illegal function" (chord from "Weekend") and more. These sounds will probably be converted to RealAudio by the CEO for web consumption. Ron also provided the picture of the "MK-BFD" license plate (his own official tag, BTW), which now sits over on the new, condensed "Tales From The Tours" page. So there's some sounds and more, courtesy of the self-described Kenealliac Spiegelhalter. Thanks muchly, RS. In the sights department, we have a new addition to the FOLOB (Friends of the Life Of Bryan) society--Kimberley Whitchurch. A talented and witty caricaturist/costumer/artist from Toronto, Kimberley was nice enough to do a couple of Bassboy drawings pro bono. Call me vain, but she was very kind to me, and her stuff will appear later on as well. And we may even have a movie with "And That's Why It's Called Spunk" as the background music, but that's a big file and needs to be discussed further with the CEO. There's a taste of what's in store for Part 3, but don't get lazy on me--be a part of "Sluggo!-rama." You know you want to.
And what's your host listening to nowadays? Well, besides The Tar Tapes Vol. 1 (most of which I'd never heard before), two CD's are flying in and out of my car lately. The first is the MK-endorsed OK Computer by Radiohead, which most of you already know about. The second one is from a band called Self. I talked a while back about Subliminal Plastic Motives, their brilliant debut. They now have a new CD out called The Half-Baked Serenade, and an LOB'r named Terry Douglas (thanks, dude) sent it to me because I couldn't find it anywhere. What an album. For those of you who don't know, Matt Mahaffey is the driving force behind this band. He's like 21 years old, plays nearly all the instruments, and writes melodies that make you want to hop up and down with glee. If you know what's good for you, go to http://users.aol.com/geoff8581/test.html#mac and order this fucking thing. It's like Nine Inch Nails meets XTC meets The Beatles. Really.
I suppose I should say something about The Tar Tapes. "Pencil Music" just kills me--I'd like to do that as the show opener, but MK would never go for it, methinks. The embryonic version of "Waiting On Williams" turns out to be not so embryonic; most of the form is the same as the version on The Mistakes, but there's a more Keneally-esque ending on the old one. I like the "Open Up" on hat better, but the "Performing Miracles" on Tar to me just rocks over hat's take on it, rococo arrangement ideas and all. My faves: "Horserace", "Airport" (MK used to play it on the "Thanks, Toss" tour in the middle of "Uglytown"--I had no idea it was structured), the mondo-eclectic "Molehead Revisited" (further evidence of the genius of Chatfield), and my tops by far, "Killer Fish." I desperately want to do that one live. All in all, a must-have for Keneally freaks, and an interesting document for the non-freakish as well, even though the last track on it makes me want to murder somebody. Hey...anybody out there get the silver ticket?
OK, boys and girls. That's it for Part One. I'm going to go floss with the turkey leftovers and, when I get back...well, you know what's next. It's Sluggo! time.
Yours in 0's and 1's,
The Bassboy Number Sixty-Nine
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