Volume 5 – #12 – December 2002

HAPPY HOLIDAYS. HAPPY NEW YEAR. HAPPY TOGETHER. HAPPY PEPPY PEOPLE. HAPPY ACCIDENT. Well it’s that time of year that everyone’s stress and sense of urgency reaches unimaginable heights. But we find consolation in the knowledge that the person driving next to you on the highway is on the verge of killing someone too. In Brave Combo Land people are hard to reach this time of year. They’re all out scurrying hither and yon, buying this and that. I think entertainment folk take more time off than most. What am I saying? I never take time off. I’ll admit that I have a rather twisted view about what’s normal and I probably contribute to my ambiguous existence in ways I don’t even realize. But I also know that the joy of rebirth is just around the corner and with it comes all the baggage from 2002 (resolutions, anyone?). Of course, not all of the baggage is bad. And some of the bad baggage isn’t all bad. So, with that blast of optimism I would like to welcome you to Brave Combo’s 2003, a year of enlightenment like none before. What will we learn? Which month will have the most learning packed into it? Time will tell, Baby? No matter what, stress or not, it’s a great time to be alive. So, let’s polka or do the dishes or feel sheepish for not buying someone a gift.

We hope to release two new albums by the middle of the year. BAG OF GHOSTS (Rounder Records), our classical music CD, should be available in April. And POLKA’S REVENGE (Cleveland International Records) hits the shelves and the pop charts by summer. We’re going to get so much radio airplay in 2003, we’ll be as commonplace as Phil Collins or Gary Lewis used to be. Speaking of the Gary Lewis era, I used to really like Bobby Vee’s songs. He had a cool voice, inspired to a degree by Buddy Holly. In fact, he recorded with Buddy Holly’s old band, the Crickets a couple of times. But I never heard about him living in Lubbock, Texas. I think he was from Minnesota. “The Night Has A Thousand Eyes” still gives me a chill. He recorded “More Than I Can Say” before Leo Sayer did. Have you ever noticed that the bridge (middle section) to “Every Breath You Take” by the Police is suspiciously similar to the bridge in “More Than I Can Say?” Any hungry lawyers out there?

Speaking of pop stars from the past, Pat Boone was signing copies of his new patriotic CD at the Denton Wal-Mart recently. He looked chipper and told me that he did, indeed, live next door to Ozzy Osbourne for three years. I could tell he was thrilled to meet me. I forgot to mention that I met Phyllis Diller and Shecky Green when we played the Jerry Lewis Telethon. I’m sure they all know each other. Anyway, Pat Boone lived in Denton many years ago and had a restaurant here called Pat Boone’s Country Kitchen. One day it closed and eventually became a bank. Denton used to be a small town with a couple of good colleges. Now it’s a medium-sized town with two large universities and more inhabitants than it’s prepared to hold. There was a time when I didn’t know thousands of people in Denton. Now I don’t know thousands and thousands. And we’re in danger of becoming an interstate town; just another row of predictable chain restaurants and stores. How can Denton escape mediocrity? I guess we could all have 666 tattooed on our forehead and walk around like Zombies and drool. Then we could put up billboards encouraging travelers to keep moving by advertising that our buildings are infected with mold and, besides, Dentonites are bloodsucking Zombies. You know, though, if the historic courthouse square was torn down and replaced by a Wal-Mart, I wouldn’t have to drive all the way out to loop 288 to see Pat Boone the next time he comes to town. Give me convenience and value and I’ll be a happy guy.

I was in the Donut, listening to some old assortment cassettes. Before CDs numbed us all into that next level of acceptance, I would compile elaborate tapes to take on the road. Listening to them late at night would enhance my feelings of both security and adventure. Extreme variety was the rule. Anyway, on one of the cassettes I had included a couple of jazz standards with Andre Previn on piano. He was amazing; better than amazing, actually. Fast and precise. And I wondered why his piano skills were not better known. Granted, most famous conductors are probably fair pianists, but Andre was a monster. And then I thought, well, although his playing was full of fire, perhaps it was too mechanical to be special, but a well-honed craft, nonetheless. And, of course, that conjures up thoughts about the ol’ art versus craft debate. I like to think of art as a new indication of human evolution; the first example of the new thing or an exceptional interpretation of it. Craft, on the other hand is workmanship plus design. Art reflects the human condition and may be sloppily rendered. Craft is judged almost entirely by technical achievement. But, you know what? There’s plenty of room for both art and craft on Earth. Whatever it was, Mr. Previn sure blew me away, at least for the moment.

When I was a kid I loved monster/sci-fi movies and magazines. The Wolf man, Reptilicus and Kronos were my friends. Double feature horror flicks on late night weekend television equaled the concept of Heaven to me. And I wasn’t too particular. An evil laboratory experiment gone haywire was as cool as a crisis on Mars. I paid attention to details and liked the low-budget stuff as much as the big Hollywood productions. Really, the B movies were a little bit creepier. They seemed more real, more documentary-like. Anyway, when I first started playing music I wanted the name of my band to reflect my infatuation with the dark side, so we called ourselves the Creatures. Pretty great, huh? And, for some reason, we wore matching berets.

Speaking of the dark side, I was thinking the other day how some women used to think Jerry Lee Lewis was sexy. I saw him once (my very first rock and roll concert) and, although he was late, he put on a good show. He played some rockin’ piano and his hair fell on his face in a wild manner, but he mainly looked like a possessed marionette, kinda stiff and jerky. His nickname was “The Killer” and he drank a lot and married his teenage cousin. I guess he opened himself up to that devil thing. And I wonder if that devil thing is really what being sexy is about. You know, taboo is exciting. Can it be exciting if you don’t feel guilty? Is hedonism any fun without remorse?

Brave Combo will be playing almost no public shows in January. There will be one afternoon show at the Texas Motor Speedway benefiting Boys and Girls Clubs of America on January 18 (check the itinerary for details) and February will be about the same. We’re taking a radically different view towards booking in the new year (fewer club appearances, more private events, more festivals and more time in the studio), which means less opportunity to see us in Texas, but more opportunity if you’re on the West Coast, East Coast or upper Midwest. Cutting back on local/regional appearances also gives each member more time to devote to side projects (Jeff’s poetry, Bubba’s jammin’ around and Carl’s whatever). So, to quote the band that gave the Beatles a run for their money for about a minute, The Dave Clark Five, “Catch us if you can.”

In a related story, Matt Groening (SIMPSONS creator) has invited us to perform at a festival in downtown Los Angeles that he’s curating. The three-day, three-theatre spectacular is called ALL TOMORROW’S PARTIES and will be held in mid-June. More on this as details emerge. A song from one of our new CDs should be solidly in the Top 10 by then.

I often sound like I’m complaining in these newsletters, don’t I? Really, I’m just observing and reporting, but I know it can come off as complaining. Perhaps we should all try to eliminate needless complaining. Someone should start a self-help program for chronic complainers and put together an infomercial called ATTACKING COMPLAINING. A testimony might go like this, “Since I decided to control my complaining, my perspective has changed dramatically. I no longer compare my life to others and I’ve realized that this is my journey and it is what I make it. I’m responsible for my own happiness.” So, with that in mind, I’ll bid a fond farewell to 2002 and look forward to 2003 with a joyous sense of no hope. Prosperity to you all. Find your niche and go for it.