My saw finally arrived. It also just about crippled my hand.
In order to get sound out of the thing you have to hold the handle between your legs and bend the saw with one hand into an S curve. It seems like a lot of people can do that without any trouble. It also seems like my hands weren’t made to contort in such a way. After messing around with trying to play it for about twenty minutes, I put the saw away, turned my left hand a bit to the side, and felt searing pain shoot through it — the kind that makes you say dirty words because no other response seems adequate. I imagine it’s what a repetitive strain injury feels like. Not quite at the level of carpal tunnel, but still pretty unpleasant. Thankfully the pain that came with flexion and extension gradually faded, and by the next day my hand seemed to be back to normal.
Needless to say, it doesn’t look like there will be the sound of a musical saw on my next album after all, unless someone other than myself is playing it. I kind of need my hands to do what I do. So I won’t be messing around with that again. Our love — mine and the saw’s — will have to remain unrequited.
You’re getting teary-eyed reading this, I know. Fret not, because if I can get the theremin I was given whipped back into working shape that might do a good job of providing the high, ethereal sounds I was expecting to get out of the saw.
Hanging out with Adam Peltier on his show last week at CJAM was a lot of fun. In addition to engaging in silly banter and giving not-entirely-coherent answers to questions I was asked, I brought along a CD case full of…well…can you guess what I put inside? Can you? CDs! How daring of me.
We played quite a bit of music from my stash: some Duke Ellington, Mingus, Tim Buckley, Oumou Sangare, Talk Talk, Thelonious Monk, Stina Nordenstam, The Band, and some really weird Paul McCartney stuff that was probably recorded while he was high out of his mind on some really good pot, among other things. Thanks again to Adam for the invite, and for playing my noise on the radio.
Speaking of noise, it’s looking like I might not be able to get another new album out there before the end of the year after all. I might get it close to the finish line, but I’d rather not rush it. So it probably won’t appear until the New Year. You can probably expect it to show up sometime in January. Hopefully it’ll be worth the wait.
Now, remember when I was sending CDs to every record label there ever was? Sure you do. We were like brothers then, eating apple slices from each other’s palms and sharing our erotic dreams during drunken reveries. Back then I apparently sent a few CDs to this little indie label called Boompa. As with every other label I ever sent anything to, I never heard anything back.
The other day I thought I would type one of my CD titles into Google just for fun. I couldn’t believe what I found. Someone actually did listen to what I sent them, and they even liked it. Imagine that. It almost makes all the bullshit and frustration endured during that time seem like it was worthwhile. Almost. I tried emailing the guy to tell him how much I appreciated knowing that he listened (even if I only found out a few years after the fact through sheer chance) and to offer to send some newer music his way, but the email address provided on his blog no longer seems to exist.
So if you ever somehow stumble across this here thing where I write stuff, thanks Dale. You made a profane, cynical guy slightly less cynical but no less profane. And that’s for the best, wouldn’t you say?
If I ever put a press pack together for any reason (not that I ever will), the quote that ends his review of the music I sent him will be in there, along with some of the other memorable things people have said about me over the years.