Oh, just another day in a screwed-up town, in a crumbling country on a dying planet. How are you doing? Since my last newsletter, seventeen people were murdered at a school in Florida. What else is new? I live in gun-totin’ Texas, which means I am constantly around weird, immature potential killers. It’s beyond bizarre how many pro-life right-wingers are steadfastly against making even minor changes to current gun laws. In my view, that totally obliterates their arguments about the sanctity of life. But, here we are, in a land which was once admired for its leadership, scientific innovations and defense of democracy. Now the good ol’ USA is known for encouraging violent crime, supporting hate groups and any number of things which even Ronald Reagan would have abhorred. This situation leaves me fatigued, but, you know what? As one gets older and older, one sees the world, possibly, moving in directions one either doesn’t like or, most often, just simply can’t relate to. So, part of me is always trying to be like a visitor to this foreign place. There’s so much I don’t recognize anymore. I grew up in a Baptist church and it’s pretty obvious most of that scene has, literally, gone straight to hell. The resolve of many Christians just wasn’t enough to keep their Satan at bay. In fact, most right-wingers I have known can be easily manipulated by shallow talking point. I could pretend to be a Christian and walk into any church and say a few key phrases and be totally trusted in minutes. Generally, they are not a suspicious bunch as long as you say the right words. And your actions don’t even matter. You can be babbling on about “family values” while you’re chaining up a blindfolded naked woman in order take pictures of her to blackmail her. You know what I mean? As long as that person says stuff like “I’m against abortion” or “I don’t believe in gay marriage” or “Send the Mexicans back to Mexico and build the damn wall” or “I want to have sex with the 2nd Amendment,” the sheep will follow. But, under no circumstances will they consider banning assault weapons of war, even after those weapons are used to massacre school students and teachers. This is insanity and those people are insane. Indeed, their devil, or whatever, has taken over their bodies and minds. We are, indeed, living among zombie-like humans. You know, if we allow citizens to buy AR 15s, why not sell them cannons and hand grenades and surface-to-air bazookas? I’m serious. Why can’t people keep a good supply of anthrax in their houses, just in case? Why are bombs illegal? They are, right? I continue to be disgusted, pissed-off and not optimistic. Guess it’s time to make a leisurely, la-de-da trip to my local sporting goods store and join the pack, huh? Of course, that ain’t gonna happen, but would owning a gun make me understand; to hold in my hand the power to end lots of lives? Would the rush of caressing the metal bring it all into focus or would it take actually seeing bodies fall? Is that what everyone with guns truly longs for? That ultimate display of strength toward another human or an animal? Maybe I could think differently if I wasn’t convinced guns are just external examples of fear. But I’m pretty sure gun owners are more scared and way more insecure than non-gun owners. And you so-called Christian gun owners might already be screwed. The gates of your precious Hades could be wide open, waiting for you folks. If your soul matters, better start praying, either for forgiveness or for reassurance that your Hell doesn’t really exist. Blah!!!!!!! I am sick of thinking about this totally stupid shit!!! Sorry to waste everyone’s time with absolutely nothing new to add, other than I am 100% with the activist high-school kids on this one. You should be, as well. Okay, reboot!

Lighter fare. I have a new sound. It’s similar to Brave Combo in subject matter and song styles, but the actual sonic nature of the music is unlike anything BC ever was. For now, I’m calling it The Carl Finch Sound, which is pretty straight-forward. It involves cool beats, synthesized keyboards, and processed vocals. I will be performing my first club show as this entity on Tuesday, March 13 at Andy’s Bar, right on the square, in historic downtown Denton. Joining me will be Danny O’Brien on manipulated brass instruments and Alan Emert on modified drums and weird-ass percussion noises. But that’s not all, not by a longshot. Also on the bill will be Belle and The Bohemian, two of Brave Combo’s best friends. They are also known as Danny and Michelle Jerabek, from Oshkosh, Wisconsin. Michelle is a singer/songwriter and an accomplished saxophonist, well-versed in myriad R&B styles. And Danny will be familiar to many Dentonites. He’s a brilliant button-box accordionist and has graced the Combo stage countless times over the years. In fact, he and I have a side project called The Nice Musics. We released an album a few years ago and will be playing a couple of selections from that, too. If you reside anywhere in North Texas, you should show up. Oh yeah, it’s free!

Okay, get ready! On April 1, in Cleveland, Ohio, at The Beachland Ballroom (yeah, that’s Easter), Brave Combo will be rocking the house with one of our classic line-ups. In addition to myself, Danny O’Brien and Alan Emert, BC exes and musicians extraordinaire, Jeffery Barnes and Bubba Hernandez will be there, singing and playing their hearts out. And this same group of misfits will be headlining the downtown Dyngus Day concert in Buffalo, New York, the very next night. Spread the word! This will be a rare event! We will be blasting out tons of polka hits and obscurities. Take lots of pictures! Post those videos! Zosia!!

TV strikes again! We have a song in an upcoming episode of the show, HAP AND LEONARD. The wise people in charge have licensed our track, “O, Holy Night Cha Cha Cha!” That’s all I know, for now. That’s a gutsy choice. Hats off to ‘em!

Life is starting to get crazy again in Comboland. More rehearsals, more studio time, new photos, increasing promotion duties and needs, pulling together new souvenir items to sell at shows and on-line, hanging out at the office more (contracts and email) and, generally, thinking about how to keep our music relevant and interesting. The live music world is disintegrating as fast as the ozone layer and maneuvering through it all has become, let’s say, tricky for everyone who’s still hanging on. But, simply living is a challenge, so one either keeps going or gives up, right? And since I still have about 1000 songs, at least, I’m fired-up about arranging and performing, I’m just too busy right now, to stop. And even if I stop, I know I won’t stop. This is both exciting and depressing.

Let’s stop here. I could talk about the adventures of our dogs and cats, but since that’s what’s mainly going on day-to-day, it would take beyond forever and I’m tired of writing. Good luck to you all!

The long-awaited movie, THE POLKA KING, starring Jack Black, has finally been released.  You can see it on Netflix.  It’s the bizarre story of polka music star, Jan Lewan, and his fall from, well, everything.  I look forward to checking it out myself (as soon as I get about another hundred things done) and, of course, wish it much success.  I know several of the musicians involved with the soundtrack and the film’s producers are, apparently, fans of Brave Combo.  So, get Netflix, rent THE POLKA KING and make an evening of it.  Snacks and all.  I just hope it portrays the polka world with sensitivity.  Too often the magic is not captured when polka musicians appear on screen.  They’re typically one-dimensional characters with no depth.  Goofballs.  And this inability or unwillingness of the mainstream to understand the essence of polka just contributes to the music’s eternal image problem.  I have been a participant in this crazy polka game for almost four decades.  Granted, my journey has been unique since I’m not, ethnically, tied to any of the major polka styles.  My family wasn’t Czech or Polish or German or Slovenian or Mexican or anything.  I don’t even know what we were, although my brother claims, through his research, that our mother actually qualified to be in the DAR (Daughters of the American Revolution), as our neighbor was.  It would’ve been nice if she could have known that.  Oh well.  Anyway, I just decided one day I was curious about polka music and started checking it out, then put together a band to play it.  I didn’t care anything about where it came from.  That took years to figure out and sorta understand.  I’m an outsider insider.  And since I don’t eat meat or even drink much alcohol, those were always two big strikes against me.  But, and I go back to this, I sincerely dug the music and cared about it a lot and have proudly stood shoulder-to-shoulder with all my Polish-American, Czech-American, Mexican-American, German-American, Slovenian-American, etc. musician friends around the country.  I’ll still take Eddie Blazonczyk or Scrubby over just about any rock or country act of the last 25-30 years.  Hell, yeah!  You should see my polka LP collection.  Whatever, I’ve had the enviable position of having one foot in (enough to clearly “get it”) and one foot out (enough to clearly see what’s wrong).  And some aspects just constantly suck.  That whole “image problem” problem has been a real stinker for the polka world.  Any attempt to break out into the bigger musical scene usually fails miserably.  Our friends in the fantastic Chardon Polka Band know, all too well, how terribly wrong things can go when mainstream media tries to interpret polka music for a mainstream audience.  They starred in short-lived reality show about the lives of a hard-working polka band.  The producers actually interviewed us for the part, as well, but I think we just came off as creatures from Mars to them.  We don’t look anything like a normal polka band.  Never did.  None-the-less, a truly honest television show about the Chardon Polka Band could have been incredibly entertaining.  I know these people.  They’re smart and charismatic.  They see the big picture.  And I’m sure myriad goofball day-to-day events occur to them naturally.  I would have enjoyed watching them just set up and play a gig and drive home.  Hell, a truck stop in the middle of the night between Philadelphia and Pittsburgh or Seattle and Portland could produce enough weird activity for an entire episode of a reality show.  If you’re on the road, you can count on having some cool, interesting experiences.  There are a bunch of oddballs out there and they’re not all scary and dangerous.  I guess it doesn’t really matter what I think, though, about any of this.  Polka is probably destined to remain an esoteric joy.  It takes a lot to accept it, if you’re encumbered by its reputation of being stupid and shallow.  It’s ironic that the music’s critics or poopoo-ers are, in fact, usually the stupid and shallow ones.

Speaking of reality shows, I would like to see a televised debate between moderate Christians and Evangelicals, but that probably won’t happen, because Evangelicals are considered bullies and moderate Christians are considered wimps and wimps are afraid of bullies, so bullies get their way while the wimps allow the actual teachings of their spiritual leader (Jesus) to pretty much fade away.  Both of these groups seem to have forgotten that their once-beloved savior was, in fact, God in the form of a man.  If I really truly believed that, I wouldn’t be screwing around too much with the essence of the message.  Evangelicals and moderate Christians both claim to believe in the existence of Hell, by the way.  Or so they say.  The Christian fear of Hell is supposed to deter true believers from ignoring the lessons in the New Testament.  Hello?  I bet Christians own more guns than Atheists.  If that is so, I wonder if it’s because their faith is weak.  Shouldn’t they be the happiest and nicest people around instead of the grumpiest and meanest?  I’m sorry if I’m offending anyone, but seriously you real Christians need to speak up, like your savior would have.  It would guarantee you a place in Heaven.  Otherwise, well, you know.  Listen to your heart.

Speaking of the end of morality, Stormy Daniels said she did and then she said she didn’t.  Hmmm, I wonder what made her change her mind.

Speaking of the end of civility, I’m thinking about our next album concept.  How does BRAVE COMBO PLAYS THE MUSIC FROM SHITHOLE COUNTRIES sound?  The only problem is we’ve already done that.

Speaking of the end of time, you know how it feels to try to reason with an ostrich, right?

THE NEW NORMAL (a timely tale).  What about them punks?  In the beginning (1979 for Brave Combo) a big hunk of the music scene in the USA was becoming gritty and grimy; intentionally so.  Cool live music venues we’re transitioning from sorta safe, almost sports bar-like spaces into dark, grungy dives.  And most of the people involved, from the booking agents to the club managers to the bands to the fans were hard; sarcastic and condescending, even if half of them were straight-up posers.  The audiences regularly threw stuff at the bands and would occasionally spit on them.  It sounds crazy, but something had to happen to save the music.  People were choosing difficult lives for the sake of the music (and, of course, to feel hip) because the mainstream embraced blandness and was content to allow rock and roll to become irrelevant.  Spontaneity was disappearing.  Chance was disappearing.  Raw energy was disappearing.  But, most of all, authentic emotion was disappearing.  And Brave Combo was as untrusting as the punks.  And we learned right away if we wanted to have any impact we would have to pay no attention to the weird air of hostility and get on with business.  New York City in the early 1980s was a combat zone; a very harsh environment and everyone made art which felt like it was about fighting for survival.  The landscape was changing from bands yelling, “Is everybody ready to rock?” to “Eat shit, Assholes.”  It was an amazing and wonderful time.  Some of the best music ever.  And it was, for sure, good to grow thicker skin and duck feathers.

Okay.  That’s it for now.  Brave Combo is still on vacation for a while.  Check our itinerary in a few weeks.  Until then, tend to your own worries.