Friday, October 29, 2010


Seems like the ghosts are still close. I wake up in a Bear House and make my way outside to the back balcony, and there is a call in my head and I don't know why. I'm distant from that in so many ways, but here it is cobwebbed in the corner and dancing ethereal when the first light hits me. I take a slug of warm Coke and try to wait it out. There are smoke signals as I light my first one. Seductive silver plumes rise from my fingers. My face is still numb from the cocaine. I want to wince at what I'm thinking, but I'm frozen stiff and stuffed so I walk to the edge and lean out.
I'm on the side of a valley. Below me I can see the houses of the rich, barely visible beneath the thick verdant canopy of the forest. This is the richest county in California, and I'm here with ghosts and I don't know why. Last night's mess contains over sized pizza slices. I take a cold one in the mouth for luck. It helps. It seems like I've been here forever. This city of ten cities, each so different, black world, blue world, rich world, tourist world. None of them are my world. I need to sit down. This is just a week catching up, this startled maudlin, out of place in an adventurer's kit. I realise how lucky I am to have a brother in the city. He's waiting for me now, I'm supposed to play to his class, a song of ghosts and monkeys, but I won't make it back. He'll understand. I forgot how much we understand. That's a good man, right there. Strange in the all the right ways. Right in all the strange ones too.
For a moment I'd forgotten why I was here. At the bar of the Utah Saloon, with the Giants running 9-0 in the second game, and free Tequila shots for everyone when they won, and two girls I couldn't escape, yelling at me how it was fine that I talked to the other one, "cause she's obviously prettier than me..." - What the Hell are you on about? I need to find a corner while I wait for my friends to get here. I didn't come here to chase. I want the real thing now, I want an out to this forever fleeting fancy.  I want my girl. The one that's waiting for me. The one that's going to understand. Not the one in the bar who doesn't even know who the Hell she's talking to. I've got three more days here. I want to remember them. I need my guitar. I need my guitar like I've needed it all year. The tequila keeps coming. I don't know what I say, or why, or how I look. Like I care anymore. Like I've cared ever since I was first not worth caring about.
Yeah, that coke sure was strong.
Later we drive across the GBB. And we're all laughing again, talking baseball, and I turn to the left and see the hungry fog edging toward the city, descending upon its prey. I lean back in the seat and close my eyes and the bone tired in me just says, bring it on, swallow it, swallow me, for this one night, let's all sink together and see where we turn up. Then I turn to the right, and there's the Pacific, clawing desperately at the cliffs and crashing in sickened revolt up, up, up, impatient to be done with these eons of erosion. Starving to just finally come on in and drown us all.
And far out to see, a sprig of lightning, to garnish the whole scene.
A storm slowly approaching.
One dark Halloween.

Thursday, October 28, 2010


I ain't running no more. I think that as we land. I look out the window and I see the South Bay, I see a Land of Strangers, and I know I'm not escaping something. I'm arriving. That's important fact number one. Important fact number two is that I've travelled light. I haven't brought baggage this time, like I took to Paris. My heart does not feel heavy. My heart feels clean. My heart feels nothing at all, if I had to tell the truth. That's that. My heart feels nothing at all, though my eyes are wide open.

I play my first show then I stand at a crossroads. Dusted signs which point to differing nights. I choose a glass of red in a home, with my shoes off, no jungle, no animal, no exploring, no wanting, needing, hoping. Those people who died, they killed that lifestyle for me. They used to tell me things, what they knew about everything, what they were going to become. They'd talk, all people fucking do is talk - then they'd fall apart on a cocaine hurdle, throw misguided missiles of fuck, suck, and shit out of luck.

I used to to do the same.

I drink a wine, and keep it close, keep it internal, and that's when the year's work really kicks in. That I've travelled all this way in a huge metal fish, over an ocean infested with sharks that shoot spiders out of their mouth - and I didn't change. I didn't blend. I just smiled and stayed safe. And waited for the right thing, not the Old Thing. The Old Thing is dead. I know that now. It's dead and it's getting deader.

Similar things happen to last time. I walk a lot. I don't make friends with strangers like I could. I keep my head down and I try to use the streets as currency, to buy another piece with which to build a greater understanding. Everything looks like it should. The painted ladies, 2 story, 3 story, a static pirate station where no one knows any longer, just what they're tuned in to. Like anywhere. Like home. It's all shirts and shops and safety zones.

I can sense the death of this place. This once great pioneer flailing into the New Age.
I think about Space.
I think about China.
I think,

America will tumble, slowly. It won't die. Instead it will remain a place of ideas, of invention, of wild theories and outsider glory. America will become the wild, grey haired loon, and it will remain valuable for that. But China will be the one to take us out into space. China has the numbers, the discipline, the ability to dispose of whoever or whatever does not serve the greater good. America failed there. It placed too much value on the individual. Saving three astronauts, saving democracy, saving face, all of these things are holding us back. We need to cut things loose. Keep our eyes on the furthest galaxy. If we are to conquer Space, if we are to shift focus, we need to value the Ant Kingdom over the Me. I don't think America can do that.

That's what I think.
I light another cigarette. I'll always do that.
I don't order a whiskey.
I don't chase a girl or a guy who can help me be more than I already am.

I am dying. So I die with dignity. I pour a wine, and remove my shoes, and think about the show I played, and look forward to the next one. I live each day in this dying world as though it were my last, and I frighten myself with the knowledge that right now, if I had a choice, my last day would be spent alone, in comfort, rather than burning in a gutter beneath the stars which we as a race are forever pretending we have already reached.

I don't need to see the stars.

Though there is one, ahead, that may just be an angel.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

3pm Eternal.


I ask you right here please to agree with me that a scar is never ugly. That is what the scar makers want us to think. But you and I, we must make an agreement to defy them. We must see all scars as beauty. Okay? This will be our secret. Because take it from me, a scar does not form on the dying. A scar means, I survived.

Monday, October 18, 2010


While I can’t have you, I long for you. I am the kind of person who would miss a train or a plane to meet you for coffee.

I’d take a taxi across town to see you for ten minutes. I’d wait outside all night if I thought you would open the door in the morning.

If you call me and say ‘Will you…’ my answer is ‘Yes’, before your sentence is out. I spin worlds where we could be together. I dream you.

For me, imagination and desire are very close.

Sunday, October 17, 2010


I was honoured to be asked to provide music for my friend Justin's documentary on street kids in Nepal. I wrote this song so long ago, and have not sung it much since. To know that it was used for something so special, makes me burst with humble joy.

That Way.

Used to be I'd start a write with me sitting in a bar. I guess some people saw that as something, and they'd get it in their heads that that's what I was all about. My name and drinking. I'd see some people, the way they looked at me, and there'd be this distance, because what I'd do is, I'd say out loud what I thought about things. And there was a lot of things I was thinking. Anyway. I made the best friends I've ever had just by talking like that. And those who were turned off by it, well, I guess you'd say they just didn't get it.

Used to be I'd write about how she hurt me, what it felt like, why I couldn't work things out. Why I kept trying to. She wasn't one person or another all the time, though there were times like that too. But she was a host of things to me. Things I needed to learn about myself. Things I was determined to explore before I ever ran into the real She. I never thought about people reading it. I did it for me. I used therapeutic sentences to find a peace. I am not concerned about that. It makes sense to me. It's those that don't want to find their own truths that I don't understand. Maybe they've already found them, though I look at people sometimes, and it doesn't seem like they have. Me? I only found them through writing. I carved my own personality out of stone cold words.

Now I'm ready to stop sculpting for a spell. January 1st 2010 I stood alone in Paris and began to see myself as someone who could make things happen. Not someone who reacted to events, as I'd often spent time doing. Wasted time doing. I never thought it would be easy. But the thought of finally rolling my sleeves up appealed to me as nothing had before. Sure, I took a couple of wrong turns. I went backwards for a time. But I never felt lost. Merely that some paths needed to be marked, once and for all, on the map, for what they really were. And now the maps' been set. Well, the map of the past at least.

The future - the future spans out like so many scattered stars, tossed random across a dark blank canvas. Distance means nothing in this New Future. Everything dances evocative and intimate ahead of me. The dizzying confusions of willpower and destiny intoxicate me with endless choice, and the rock I have forged beneath my feet provides the vantage point from which to admire the true beauty of The Universe. Belief, Pride, Desire have been drowned for the falsehoods they are, and instead I hold threads of reality with which to harness the power that I, You and Everyone We Know all possess in some measure. Keep it simple. Do not stray. Grin in awe at the scope of Everything, but be content to keep yourself small, mobile, humble.

In seven days I embark on the greatest adventure of my modest life to date. And in the lead up to it, I have battled many emotions, many dreams and expectations. Only to find peace finally, and as I always do, in the simple comforts of a quiet home. My cat. A bowl of pasta.

So I'll pack a small suitcase, and of all the possessions a quixotic soul must never forget, this quiet determination is the only necessity.

Oh, but I'm sure I can fit in a little excitement. Just a dash.

Saturday, October 16, 2010


Mothers can't always help you
when you're far and feeling blue
but they'll hear your whispered cries
in the middle of the cold, lonesome night
and say
Oh Son, I'm still a part of You.

Fathers don't always get it
as they ain't half as strong as You
but one day maybe you'll sigh
breathe deep and give it a try
and say
Oh Daddy, I'm still a part of You.

Only you can make that change
and use that one mistake
to light a flame.

It'll help you.

Sisters don't always listen
as they walk along on a path too
but they can sure make you cry
when they look you right in the eye
and say.
Oh Brother, I'm still a part of You.

And you can make that change
use that one mistake
to light a flame
who can turn a
burned out breaking
man into a

when mothers can't come back and help you?

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Sunday, October 10, 2010

The goal of life is to make your heartbeat match the beat of the universe,
to match your nature with Nature.

Friday, October 8, 2010

This town.

Lately I've been wondering
why it's all so hard for a man like me
I've been feeling lucky
but it just don't seem to stick
and I'm still lonely
I'm waiting for induction
and for a stranger's hand to reach for me
see, I can barely function
without some sort of friend
for me to hold.

And I'm living in a Lonely Town
filled with heartbreakers and
lovemakers and
girl, are you a lot like me?

And I'm living in a Lonely Town
filled with money makers and
fashion fakers and
girl, are you just like me?

Are you always running?
Do you feel at home beside the sea?
Do you find it funny
that folk like us are still alone?
Do you hate mass production?
Do you want everything for free?
And do you somehow function
though you haven't got a friend that you can hold?

Sounds like you're
living in a Lonely Town
filled with heartbreakers and
lovemakers and
girl, are you just like me?

Both living in a Lonely Town
filled with money makers and
fashion fakers and well
girl, you are  just like me.

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

A Moment.

Do you walk when you're alone?
Do you feel defeated?
Do you taste of blood and bone,
when you've been beaten down?
Are you helpless when you're at home?
Crying to be needed?
Do you feel like I'll never know?
Or do you want to see me now?

Does it seem that I have grown,
or do I sound conceited?
Does your heart feel like a stone,
or will you believe me now?
That I've tried to find a way
to be me completely.
And if you hold me when I'm alone
then I'll never let you down.

Tuesday, October 5, 2010


Thanks, Sub. She's made me happy.

Signal Fires.

Monday, October 4, 2010

Sunday, October 3, 2010

Dead X.

I'm burned out
by all of these changes
I've been up for days
swimming in doubt.
And it's too late
to redial your number
it's probably changed
you've been gone for days.

And who
who's going to listen,
when I'm all out of pain,
and I feel no shame
now I'm older.

And don't you
if I write your name
in a lonely stain
when it's colder?

I've worked out
that I can't forget you
so why should I change
I've been drinking for days
it turns out
that if I'd never met you
then I'd have never been saved
so I thank your

Saturday, October 2, 2010

A Conversation on Wall St.

He said
don't come easily
to a Man
as obsessed as Me
with the way I can die
in the blink of an eye
if the numbers go down
and I jump out and fly.

He said
all you want at me
it's your kind
that will ruin me
with your dirty long hair
and your "I just don't care"
but The Truth of The World
is that I pay your share

and when I'm broke
I'll let you know.

I said
take a long hard breath
on that Gold
expensive cigarette,
I'm a Man just like You
I'm greedy right through
and if you cut me I bleed
and I don't bleed Blue.

But there's
for the worst of Us
if we can
only follow Love
and if we never try
then this world will die
a cold blooded death
drowned in numbers and lies

so when I'm broke
I just let go.
yes I'm broke
but I've just let go...

we sat
in silence and regret
as we thought of it -
the things that we had lost
the things we had learned
and the things that had passed
while our hearts had burned
and in time
he smiled at me
as we shared
another drink or three
we were brothers in arms
in that late night bar
sharing the dream
that a man can go far
though he's broke

and has let it all go.