The Machine’s Pump Volume 19 – #1 – January 2016

Okay. I’ll cut to the chase and then not say much. How’s that? Divisive, hate-filled, right-wing talk radio, run by sorta-angry/sorta-posing middle-aged Republican white commentators organized an environment of conspiracy-based fear. A few years later, Fox News became the television version of that, pummeling viewers with fact-free doom and gloom. Then a black man became The President of the United States and, I guess, the heads of a bunch of old Caucasian men must have exploded. Racism became embarrassingly exposed all over this great land. The divide between the Christian Right, longing for the “good old days,” when white people ran everything, and the Whatever Left became bigger than ever. Right-wingers and all of their like-minded off-shoots bitched and moaned and blew gaskets, but things were not getting any whiter. Everyone was just getting more upset. At the same time, distrust in every aspect of the government grew, as well. Eventually, the mad-as-hell villagers accidentally built an evil, though some-what simple-minded, sociopathic orange-faced humanoid out of their combined angst. It’s name, of course, is Donald Trump. It ate its maker and is running amok. The End.

Speaking of sociopaths, Donald Trump’s two sons are both proud wild big game hunters, eager to pose with the innocent creatures they’ve just murdered. There is nothing to admire about this entire family, it appears. I am not happy that we’ll all have to hear so much more about their depressing, miserable lives. Yeah, let’s make America great again, with a chicken in every pot, a lion’s head on every wall, a scowl on every face, a gun in every hand and a teeny-tiny brain in every head! Geez, now what was the point of the human race, exactly?

From the ridiculous to the sublime. There’s no need for me to add anything to what’s already been said about the life and work of David Bowie, other than to point out one of his songs you may not have ever heard. When I was in high school my brother worked at a radio station in Lubbock and would often bring me extra copies of promotional records (vinyl 7” and 12”). One of them happened to be a pre-SPACE ODDITY single, called “Rubber Band,” by a person I’d never heard of. I immediately loved it and it’s held up very well over the decades. I would also venture to believe that it had some influence on my future music. You’ll hear what I mean, if you check it out. And I hope you will.

Did you know we have new, Warren Lunt-designed T-shirts, including girl-cuts? Also we have new stickers and hat pins! Go to our store and browse a while.

As a songwriter and, often, self-publisher, I get royalty reports (and sometimes, actual royalties) from various sources, four times a year. One organization, called MUSIC REPORTS, informed me recently how much money was coming my way from AMAZON PRIME MUSIC, one of the companies that regularly licenses my work. It appears that, for about 1000 internet spins (industry lingo for “plays”) of various Carl Finch original compositions, I have accumulated a little under ¾ of a penny…total! And MUSIC REPORTS doesn’t write a check until one’s earnings reach $50. So, at this rate, I should get some money from AMAZON PRIME in about 300 years. These are modern times. The fact is, no songwriters are making money from internet royalties, whether it be Spotify, Pandora, YouTube or whatever. This definitely sucks, but it’s like saying steel sucks because its so hard. It’s 2016. Thankfully, this only applies to internet exposure but it’s not exactly exciting news when I see how often my music is being used. At least people are hearing it, somewhere, out there.

Brave Combo is taking a two-month break from live performing while we do some rehearsing, office cleaning and studio recording. As well, Jane and I are having new gutters put on the house, making some electrical and plumbing improvements, painting a little here and there and taking care of a rapidly aging bunch of pets. One cat has diabetes, another cat just lost an eye to cancer, one dog has advanced bladder cancer, another dog is being treated for liver disease. That’s just four of them. Also, some funky neighbors around the corner from our house moved and abandoned their cat. Guess where it lives now? So, before we start cranking up the BC live music machine again in March, I’m going to deal with all of these responsibilities and loose ends. Did I mention we also have a dead tree in our front yard which needs to be removed and replaced ASAP. And, of course, I need to construct that cat fence, which will be inside our already-fenced-in back yard. But first, the flowerbed in the front yard, needs some attention.

Well, that’s enough about enough, for now. Venture forward, my friends in polka! Navigate as if it’s a new world, because it is. Don’t forget to stop and breathe on occasion, and be good to your pets. Beyond that, eat when you’re hungry and don’t gossip. Oh yeah, and, as James Brown said many times, “Get Up Offa That thing and Shake It (You’ll Feel Better).