I can't control my fingers, I can't control my brain.

Good afternoon, Internet. How is everyone doing on this fine afternoon? Looking up German midget porn on your blackberry while pretending to do work? Right on, I feel you. As for me, it seems to be just another Wednesday in this office. Banged out a bunch of work this morning, went to the gym, got lunch, and now I sit here speaking with all of you while I enjoy my sandwich and listening to music. Today's play list is the new record from upstate hardcore group, Another Breath. I must say, I highly recommend this record if you are into the punk/hardcore genre of music. This is the bands third album, and it just keeps getting better. This record, titled "The God Complex" is another look into the mind of, well, a mad man. The lead singer of Another Breath is one of the craziest dudes I've ever met. Granted, I've only met him twice in my entire life, both at shows, but he also wrote a blog while they were recording the record and searching for distribution. After they finished the record he picked up with a personal blog which he updates almost every day. This guy is completely insane, but not in that, "I'm going to kill you in your sleep" insane. More like the, "Holy shit, what the fuck am I suppose to do in this world" insane. His blog, as well as his lyrics for Another Breath records, deal with the day to day struggle of being alive on this planet. Feelings of remorse, grief, strife, agony, confusion and anger all get thrown in the mix. In one blog he talked about how he read one of Henry Rollins' books, and found a new respect for a man he never liked that much in the first place, mostly being he saw that Henry was just as crazy, if not crazier, than him. Which lead me to a very interesting question.

Are musicians really out of their fucking minds?

This is a question I've thought about over the years, and I can't really pin down a true answer. When I tell people I'm in a band, and we don't really make any money personally, their answer is usually something along the lines of, "That's crazy! How do you get by?". We spend our own personal money to make things in the band happen, and as much as it rules when we get paid and can fund the band with itself, I don't think I'd ever stop playing music just because of money issues. But thinking into that question; am I crazy? Should I stop wasting money on something that isn't really paying me back? (aside from free drinks and food sometimes). Non-musicians will usually say it's a crazy way to live your life while musicians don't know any other way. Is the passion behind creating music that strong, or are there just a SHIT tone more insane people walking the earth then we thought? I'd like to believe it's the passion, but then again, some musicians really are just bat-shit crazy and there isn't anything you can do about it but let them make their music, and hope they don't loose it one day and blow up their recording studio. Any way you slice it, I think it takes a person who is a little off axis to create something truly amazing. I mean, if normal people could do it, it wouldn't be different would it? It would just be more of the same shit. For this reason alone, I always liked to think of myself as a little off-center as they say, and that is the part of myself that I love the most. The part that comes out when you step on stage and you forget all about your life, your job, your bank accounts, your 401K, your health insurance, your rent, your bills. You let it all fly in the wind and live in that moment.

Live in this moment, because it's fleeting, and it's never coming back.

I remember Halloween

Another Halloween came and went this past weekend, and I must say it was a damn good one. The band played a Halloween show on Friday night, which was one of the better shows in recent memory as far as how well we performed as a band. Some of the costumes were also just amazing. Ernie (from Bert and Ernie), Bobby Light, and Green Man were just some of the high lights. The show went of very well aside from a very stupid, and very drunken fight between my roommate and my friend. No one remembered anything in the morning about it, and no real punches were thrown, so all in all it wasn't as bad as it could have been. The band decided to go with the group costume of the Reservoir Dogs, which ended up being awesome. Everyone caught on pretty quickly (thanks in part to name tags we wore to make it a little more obvious what we were going for), and everyone had a great time. Although Saturday wasn't much to talk about. I decided that staying up until 7am drinking on Saturday morning was a GREAT idea, so when I woke up on Saturday afternoon, I have a hangover that wouldn't quit. I would have spent the day in bed, but I had to get up and go meet my landlord to sign the lease to my apartment. I sat in his house for about 35 minutes, all while focusing EVERY ounce of effort on not throwing up on this nice old mans kitchen table and my lease agreement. After that I had to go home because I promised my dad that I would come over and help him around the house, which I ended up not doing because I took a nap before I went over, and by the time I showed up, it was raining and getting dark. He bought me dinner but I only got about 5 bites down before I felt the urge to vomit again. Needless to say Saturday was kind of a bust, as far as being a normal human goes. I drove down to my girlfriends house and just hung out with her, and we were both passed out by 11:30.

I'd say the weekend was a success because the show Friday night made up for being a hungover piece of shit the rest of the weekend. All in the name of rock 'n' roll, right? Anyway, this week looks like it will be the same deal. Thursday night I'm going out to Brooklyn to catch a fantastic band that goes by the name Fucked Up. They are playing their new album front to back, with the help of the Vivian Girls and Andrew W.K., so I plan on partying hard all night. Friday we pack up and make the trip up to Syracuse for a show, then over to Rochester the next night. All in all this Thursday-Sunday should be interesting to say the least.

Oh yeah, and my truck decided to get REALLY loud on Saturday afternoon, which means I get to leave work today, and crawl around under it to figure out what the hell is wrong. Fantastic. Happy Monday Fuckers.