HTG Podcast #31: Dispelling illusions

In this episode of the Head The Gong Podcast, I verbally wander hither and thither through a forest of ideas tied together loosely (VERY loosely) with the theme of “dispelling illusions.” Meditation, identity, music, and the hacking of the human mind. Stuff like that.

Media referenced:


Let Go

Reverb 10 Prompt (from Alice Bradley): What (or whom) did you let go of this year? Why?

Come on Alice, that’s not fair. I’ve already blogged like, thirty-nine times about turning forty, and nobody wants to hear anymore about it! But what can an old guy do. The expiration date on my youth is only a week past, so maybe it’ll be okay to go there one more time. So for now, keeping in mind I always reserve the right to ramble off in any direction imaginable, I’ll give some further consideration to the letting go of my youth.

Okay. Fuck that. I changed my mind already. I don’t want to let go. What’s the next prompt?

Alright, that was a bit rash. But “youth” is just too broad, too amorphous to get my arms around (and then let go of). I suppose everything I write over the course of this month will boil down, in the final analysis, to my big blobby issues, like that I don’t want to die and that I want everyone to love me and all that crap, but what I’m resisting right now is digging into the specifics, the nitty gritty of it all. Like Friday night, for instance. A favorite local band of mine, Transportation, was playing at The Reservoir, and I met up with Eric for a rare night out. I hadn’t seen Eric for a while. He had just returned from a few weeks of touring with his band, Minor Stars. Shit, there are already too many layers for me to keep track of. You see, until a few months ago, Minor Stars was also my band. I quit because I couldn’t go on this fall tour. Because I didn’t have the time and energy even to continue practicing every week and playing local shows. Because I had so many other projects I wanted to pursue. Because I couldn’t afford to quit my full-time day job. Because I had to support my wife while she finished up her Ph.D. Because my wife was about to go on the job market and we’d probably be moving away. Because being a rock star is Eric’s dream, not mine. Because I was avoiding facing my own destiny.

The Reservoir was where I played my first local show with Minor Stars, back in August of 2009. I’ve got the pictures to prove it! (I’m the bass player, the elder of the group who at that point was just three months shy of thirty-nine. Oh to be young again…) The Reservoir was also the club where I played my last show with Eric’s and my first band, My Dear Ella. That was back in 2003, and I remember thinking then, “This is it. I’m letting all this go. It’s really over.” Then I moved out of state to be with my girlfriend, now wife, who was just beginning her Ph.D. program at that point. Five years went by and we moved back here to Chapel Hill for my wife’s year of dissertation writing. You see, digging into the specifics can be dizzying as hell.

So it’s Friday night, as in the night before last, and I meet up with Eric at The Reservoir to see Transportation. We’ve been going to Transportation shows together on and off for that past ten years. Ten years! And they still rock. Eric and I grabbed a couple of beers and caught up. The Minor Stars fall tour was a success, but things didn’t work out with the new bass player, the guy who replaced me. I told Eric that, of course, I would be happy to step in if he needed me to play a really important local show. After all, as it turned out, my wife didn’t get an academic position for this fall, so it looks like we’ll be in town for a while longer than expected. And then there’s always the possibility that she will get a job around here, and then, well, who knows…

You see, that’s the fucked up thing. I did let go of Rock and Roll this year! I swear, I really did! And I have the video to prove it! It was on June 3rd, my last last show, at the local NBC television station. It was a tough night. I had just separated my right shoulder a few days before, so I was in some pain. I was sad to be leaving the band. I was terrified of those damned TV cameras. I had finally come to terms with the fact that Rock and Roll is a young person’s game. It’s done. Buried. I’m old now. It’s official. Bobby D. has left the building. Total letting go to commence in 10, 9, 8, …

Ahhh… All better now. Now, what to do with the rest of the afternoon? How about a little session with the old guitar. We’re talking an acoustic guitar mind you. Don’t want to disturb the neighbors. Yeah, there’s nothing like rocking out… er, I mean strumming out some nice folk/adult contemporary music on a Sunday afternoon.

I wonder what I’ll let go of next year?

Broken shoulder blues

I went out to have a beer with Eric on Friday night and we spent some time reminiscing about our years together in My Dear Ella and Minor Stars. I was jogging home the two blocks from the Orange County Social Club to my apartment when an amazing, unprecedented event happened—my feet slid out from under me on the wet cement and I crashed down like a ton of bricks onto the sidewalk. I ended up with a separated shoulder, which was not the way I had planned to start my holiday weekend. I spent Saturday on the couch with my ice-pack and laptop, and the only productive thing I accomplished was to copy some DVD footage of the 2004 Bright Orange Tailspin CD release show at the Local 506 in Chapel Hill. I was struck by how much younger I looked only six years ago, and also by what a jackass I made of myself when the camera captured me in all my intoxicated glory.

These are the things that swirled through my head yesterday as I played around in the studio (I was pleasantly surprised I could play the instruments with only minor discomfort). I’ve also been thinking a lot about creativity, and how much I enjoy exploring a particular moment in time through music or writing. And my shoulder hurts like bloody hell, and it’s impossible to sleep for more than an hour at a time. Here’s what I recorded last night before fading out:

<a href="http://isaacdust.bandcamp.com/track/broken-shoulder-blues">Broken shoulder blues by Isaac Dust</a>

I was only 34 years old
when I thought I played my final show
But who was I to think I’d know when it was all over
I went away for 4 long years
and thought I conquered all my fears
But man you saw me shed those tears when it was all over
I got back up and hit the scene
to find out what it really means
The sleep ain’t always worth the dream when it’s all over
So many times the same old thing
I think I’m out but then I’m in
I thought I’d lost but I just might win

We watched it go under the bridge
There ain’t no sense denying it
And who’ll be left to give a shit when it’s all over
and said and done but I was never one to jump right in
but I might not see your face again
We can say goodbye or just say when

Minor Stars Vault

ericstudio.jpgFor years I’ve been encouraging Eric Wallen (the heart and soul of Minor Stars and My Dear Ella) to let the world have a listen to his impressive collection of song idea tapes and demo recordings. We’ve been talking about creating an online “vault” of demos and bonus material for so many years that Jack White had time to telepathically steal our ideas and launch his own version.

Well, the time has come and the Minor Stars Vault has been unlocked and launched into cyberspace at long last. Here’s Eric’s announcement and the first two offerings:

The Vault will put on full display the underbelly of Minor Stars and its members. Demos, riffs and jamz from practice, live videos, old abandoned songs, rough mixes of the latest song we’re working on…the stuff that might not otherwise see the light of day but that is often the most interesting and exciting. Anything goes.

Our goal is to add a new Vault post every week. In addition to offering up cool content, the Vault is meant to keep us focused and dedicated to writing and recording music regularly, and to loosen up the stranglehold that I’ve (Eric) always had on material I haven’t considered to be in its “final” form. I’m dropping all that. It’s never gonna be in its final form, or it already is and I don’t know it yet. But it really doesn’t matter, and now it’ll be in the Vault for all to hear.

<a href="http://minorstarsvault.bandcamp.com/track/holy-fake">Holy Fake by Minor Stars: Vault</a>

<a href="http://minorstarsvault.bandcamp.com/track/intro-music">Intro Music by Minor Stars: Vault</a>

Music Spotlight: My Dear Ella’s Blonde Baby

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One minute I’m home winding down in my PJ’s and the next I’m wearing a blond wig, standing next to Eric Wallen, and head-banging to a Black Sabbath cover band.

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That can happen on Halloween in Carrboro, NC. Of course, Eric’s hair is the real rock n’ roll deal, and he’s known all about town for that and for being the creative force behind the bands Death of the Sun and My Dear Ella.

For this week’s Music Spotlight, we’ll pay tribute to both Eric and blond hair by traveling back to yesteryear and the My Dear Ella mellow-groove masterpiece, Blonde Baby. This super-chill tune was recorded at the legendary Music House, back when MDE was a four-piece, all of us housemates. I’m playing bass on this track (although I was merely mimicking the original MDE bassist, Bill “Hussein” Dechand), along with Eric on guitars and vocals, Doug White on keys, and Jeff DeWitte on drums.

Grab the mp3 below, pop it in your iPod, and get mellow. It’s free, so next time you see Wallen out on the town, buy him a shot of Jägermeister.

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Blonde Baby.mp3

Seventh time’s a charm

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Who knows why certain things capture our imaginations. A few weeks ago my friend Bill posted a Joan Halifax essay on his blog called “The Lucky Dark.” The phrase comes from a translation of a St. John of the Cross poem, and basically it refers to all the dark, scary shit that we hate—like suffering, death, loss, and fear—but that also can be deeply transformative when embraced. Just as the phrase “Waiting for the miracle” captured my attention and guided my creative process for years, “The Lucky Dark” seized hold of me right away, and I knew it would be the title of my next album.

I’ve been thinking a lot about what I do musically, what it means to me, and how I see the process unfolding now that I’m back in Carrboro, NC. There’s quite a music scene here, and I had a great time being a part of it a few years ago when I played bass for My Dear Ella. My buddy Eric—the heart and soul of MDE—is still playing music here, fronting a new band called Death of the Sun, and presently putting the finishing touches on a new record that is going to be absolutely fantastic.

I’m not sure how I fit in to the music scene right now, or even that I fit in at all. When I settle in to my little studio on a Saturday evening, I’m just looking to open up and see what happens. The process is so wonderful, so enlivening, that the end result is almost beside the point. I share it here on my blog for a lot of reasons. Of course, I get a thrill when a little praise is thrown my way. But really my music is part of a bigger picture I’ve been sloppily painting for years now. For lack of a better word, it’s a spiritual practice, a way to connect with others and the depths of myself.

Last night I intended to record a song I’ve been kicking around for a few years. But when I went searching for drum beats, I tickled the virtual ivories a little on the way, and got lost there for the whole evening. Here’s what happened:

Seventh time’s a charm.mp3
I will pack my things
I will hit the road
I will not look back
Then I always look back
I will wait all night
for the words to come
Set them free like tears
Let them go like tears
Take me to the edge
This time I’ll jump right in
I won’t change my mind
for the seventh time