Soap & Water pt2

Dateline: Nashville.

Pissed away the last year doing everything and nothing…

Dan Stuart called it: “the year of living stupidly.”

Sometime’s people ask me questions: Will I make another record? Have you written any new songs? Who killed Al Jackson? My answer is: I don’t know. To be honest, I’m not sure my bitches were feeling it.

“Never let anyone make you feel bad about what you’re doing.” Jim Dickinson told me that years ago.

It turns out I have some dark need to do this. To write songs and make records. John Cassevetes said: “I have a one-track mind. That’s all I’m interested in: love - and the lack of it.” Makes perfect sense.

Lovers lane hasn’t been this unsafe in years. Tammy Faye Bakker and Elvis, and Anna Nicole Smith all find there way into this record.

Particularly on “Would You Love Me”.

The thing is: Elvis didn’t buy his mother any ol’ Cadillac, he bought her a pink Cadillac. Speaking of pimpin’ rides… Most days I can’t remember where I parked my car. That’s when I’m know I’m in the middle of a new record. I wrote most of these songs at like 5 AM. I would come back from Europe and resist adjusting my body clock. Hey, it works for the monks! Behind bars they call it “jailin”. When you adjust your body clock so that you’re up all night and only get up during the day for meals.

Going off your medication has its advantages. The upside to being diagnosed bipolar is that you can get a lot done when you’re raging. Yep, all the good stuff just flows through you. It’s easy. Of course, the all too brief highs are followed by pounding Maverick’s sized waves of fear. Not that I’d know.

Musicians want to make records that flatter them. We want a kind of simulated passion. Maybe we’re all guilty of that somehow. But, I don’t want it. I’m getting to where I feel like I’ve got nothing to lose. And when I’m at the crossroads, I ask myself, WWAD? What would Alex Chilton do? Way back when, Alex opened a Green On Red show in Atlanta. He pulled up in a 74 Buick blowing blue exhaust in the gravel parking lot. He and his rhythm section (Rene’ Coman, Doug Garrison) spilled out of it in a Purple “sess bud” haze. Alex put his amp on stage and pulled a clean shirt out of the back, tuned to his harmonica and click his heals four times. Wham!

Always store your gig clothes in the back of your amp. You’ll always be ready for showtime.

Lx was like an instant hero to me. I’ve found and discarded many hero’s since then, but Alex is still IT. We had a few friends drop by on this record. The core of it is Todd Roper on drums (from Cake) and me on guitar. Stephie has been singing too. And well… lotsa Nashville trash have shown up too. We had the Spinto band in there making noise. All 6 of em.

I’ve learned a few things out here. Like Brad Jones is a tireless bad-ass for example. Never hurts to make time for a BBQ and a friendly game of Roof-ball. (Angelo pictured demonstrates the proper technique) Can’t work all the time.

As soon as you realize that it’s all insane; It all makes sense.

—Mark Twain

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