May Birthdays 
Well I was going to write up a magnum opus on the meaning of life liberty and the future of Surf Music but I seem to have hit the wall on brain power and have to admit- i got nothin.
I mean I got a record label, it's in it's infancy stage (like my surf career) and My Guy (who posts on this site on occasion) is 100% SOLD on my music. As in he really really thinks we can do something.
Re-reading that paragraph I remind myself that I am 100 times further along in the music 'biz' than I ever believed I'd be with the exception of when I got my 1st drum set and was convinced I could be a star. If I could just figure out how to play.
Now there's a guy in a studio somewhere in San Francisco, a professional no less, who is painstakingly remixing all my notes and stops and rim shots so these sounds can be marketed to the public at large. Fantastic. It should be enough right? It is... but not really.
I still want to make it big. There I said it. For decades I was convinced that music was a safe outlet in that any type of 'success' was pure fantasy and that there was no danger of this fantasy leaking over into the actual world that I live in. The world of kids and work and ex-wives and grindin that ol grindstone. I could just play and that would be it.
Then I found Surf (it's been almost 2 years now) and of course I had to see if I could learn to play. My first attempt was something off the Astronauts LP. You're damn right I got it in vinyl! From there it was Walk Don't Run and then, and then...
Then I met you people. You guys are true believers. Every stinking one of you. You play with little or no pay. You don't sell a million albums. You sell a thousand and it's a big deal. You're into the sound, my God, the holy eternal sound. The drip, the verb the single pup obsession and the power of the wave and the frilly sizzle as it breaks.
So I learn, I practise, I play better than I ever dreamt possible, I record and now here I am for the first time ever I am really standing on the edge of a dream, fantasy morphing into reality.
Scuse me while I kiss the sky.
I want this thing to be bigger (that's what she said) Not just my thing, the whole surfin thing. Modern music is so bad. The articles Ivan posted this past week are examples A and B of the vacuous incestuous culture that festers, boil on top of boil. Can surf show that something of quality is still possible? Will we all have to sell out? And to who? At what price? I don't know if we'll sell 10 downloads of my album so I guess I'm standing at the beginning of a long learning curve. I guess I'm about to find out.
I've always believed in the power of the Horrible Noise as Lester Bangs called it. And Lester was a believer too. And I never want to disappoint him.
—Da Vinci Flinglestein,
The quest for the Tone, the tone of the Quest
The Syndicate of Surf on YouTube
http://www.syndicateofsurf.com/
Last edited: Oct 16, 2015 14:25:54
