you've cursed all perfect days as you walked away

Mar. 27th, 2007

003; don't become some background noise

music: Queen - Radio Ga Ga

So I'm playing at this coffeehouse this past weekend, and the kid that had the set after me gets on stage - you know the typical type. Stupid emo hair, stupid girl pants, stupid obscure and probably awful band shirt, more eyeliner than I wear on a regular day. He gets up to the mic, says he wrote this song for his ex-girlfriend. People like songs about ex-girlfriends, so everyone gets quiet and stops to listen as this guy starts to sing. Honestly, he wasn't that bad. But then the door jingles because someone's coming in - like they had bells tied to it, you know - and this really hot girl walks in on the arm of an even hotter guy, and the dude on stage stops playing.

Turns out that was his ex. What are the odds?

Anyway, rather than leaving the stage calmly, or trying to punch the daylights out of this new beau, the kid smashes his guitar onstage and runs off crying. Fucking honestly! I'm not even kidding you. But it made me feel a lot better about myself, so good for him.

Other than the occasional gig, I haven't really been up to a whole lot. Ran into Rory from highschool at a party last week. It was good to see her again, it'd been too long.

This random guy keeps asking me to have sex with him. Apparently he was at some party I was at not too long ago. I don't know if I just give off "easy" vibes or what, but seriously. Hello turnoff.

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Mar. 14th, 2007

002; you've grown up really crazy

music: Eisley - Golly Sandra

So, I've gone from not being able to write decent music to not being able to write anything at all. How hard is it to write a stupid journal entry? Damn me and my need to stick with the things I start.

I've been up to.. well, essentially nothing. Met up with some guy, Dean, at one of my regular bars last week. He was alright. Little bit on the quiet side, but alright. You'd think for someone who spends practically all her time in social hot spots I'd be meeting more people, yeah? Got you. I'm practically a fucking recluse. Whatever, though. Not like I've really got anything worthwhile to talk about, anyway.

Despite not playing any good sets lately, I managed to catch a couple last night. This guy.. I don't even know what his name is, but God, his music is just amazing. All of the clichés about the world just fading out when his music starts to play? Totally there. It's everything I've ever wanted for my own music, to be able to affect someone like that. But it sort of takes from the joy when he gets off the stage and becomes just like every other low-life in the bar. What happened to all the nice guys? Hopefully there'll be more to come.

Anyway, I've rambled enough here. My apologies to anyone who wasted their time reading.

Mar. 4th, 2007

001; and mexico can fucking wait

music: Rilo Kiley - The Good That Won't Come Out

This shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone.

Pretty much any singer/songwriter/'musical artist' that you'll find lounging around at any club/pub/coffee house/crack house/whatevs carries around some lame notebook, where they'll scribble down anything that strikes them as deep and/or meaningful - usually something involving love/death/pain with some awful metaphorical reference to mirrors/flying/flowers/clocks/darkness. They turn it into a crap song, and perform it at a crap bar. And people eat it up.

And now I'm officially among the ranks of the lame musicians. Just call me environmentally savvy, I guess, to skip the notebook. Apparently I'm among the ranks of the treehugging as well tonight. And of the multitasking! I'm so impressed with myself.

If you're particularly unlucky, you've probably caught me at your local club/pub/coffee house/please don't make me go through the listing again singing some awful song. I'm losing my muse. Swear to God, I used to write good music. It's not as if this isn't something I enjoy. Performing is such an indescribable rush for me, and music is my lifeblood.

How tacky do I sound? Are you catching my drift here? "Music is my lifeblood"? My edge is so far gone. I guess all I can hope for now is that no one worth knowing will accidentally stumble upon this. Because seriously. The lameness is getting out of control.

Anyway. Less bitching, more explaining. I do a lot of performing. It pays most of the bills, and it keeps me relatively active, which I guess is better than the alternative. Idle hands = devil's playthings, right? But it's not the friendliest lifestyle. Everyone's a critic, and the people who are actually paid to do so rarely have nice things to say. I come home from gigs reeking of sweat, and just thinking about the amount of secondhand smoke I must inhale in a night is enough to want me go get checked out for lung cancer.

And it turns out explaining and bitching are actually the exact same thing for me! Go figure.

Positives. Positives. I've shared time slots with some really awesome musicians. The kind of people who would be totally inspiring were I not a completely jaded ass.

And for someone in the process of losing her muse, I sure talking a fucking ton. We're done here.

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you've cursed all perfect days as you walked away

I can hear you say "Jenny, you're barely alive"