Volume 7 – #11 – November 2004

BIG NEWS. Our brand new CD, LET’S KISS, has been nominated for a Grammy. Wow. And Jimmy Sturr’s new CD did not make the top five this year. Hmmm. What’s going on? He’s won like fifteen times. This is alien territory. Whatever, we’re delighted and excited. Our worthy competition includes Eddie Blazonczyk’s Versatones from Chicago, Henny and the Versajay’s from Pittsburgh, John Gora & Gorale and Walter Ostanek, both from Canada. I’m happy to report that all of these acts deserve a Grammy and we’re honored to be in their company. Plus, they’re all good friends. It’s a new day for polka, no matter what the naysayers declare. I exclaim, “Hang in there, World. The future is about to be revealed. Expect changes and be fearless.” There is a rumor that Jeff and Bubba may be attending the awards ceremony and obligatory parties. I prefer to learn the results from the confines of my cave. And then go have a snack. We each party our own special way.

Speaking of changes, I didn’t shave for a while and a beard grew. Ninety percent of my friends are lying to me and say that it looks good. My mother said she likes it, even if I look 100 years old. It may not last long, so if you’re interested, better catch a glimpse ASAP. I remember a post-Barney ANDY GRIFFITH SHOW where Goober grows a beard and everyone tells him he looks smarter. Of course, he starts to believe the hype and becomes unbearable to be around. This is my goal. I already have the unbearable part down.

Well, what more can be said about the 2004 Presidential election? It happened. One side lost. The other side won. I just can’t ponder it anymore. At least, I think, everyone agrees that Iraq is a mess and needs to be cleaned up ASAP. Beyond that, I have to accept that my country is controlled by leadership I don’t trust. It’s my right to be concerned and watchful and it’s your right to be whatever you want. On a positive note, I don’t have to worry about Kerry screwing up. Also, art always flourishes in oppressive times, even if it has to go underground. It’s wonderful to see great frustration turn into great self-expression and I want to personally thank those people and things in my life that irritate me the most, so I can be inspired to write music. Otherwise, I’d just be sitting around eating vegetarian pate and playing marbles all day. Hey, wait a minute. Maybe I could produce some kind of marble gambling TV show where the marbles are worth, like, $100 each. Boy, the poker/Vegas craze is taking over, huh? Everybody wants to play and be a sly fox. It’s bigger than golf and U2 combined. There’s a new, but funky/creepy Indian reservation casino in Oklahoma just across the Red River from Gainesville, Texas called Winstar. It’s obviously just the beginning of some master plan of attack (land is being cleared like crazy) and I’m curious to see where it all leads. Whatever, that’s where I plan to spend Christmas Day, feeding quarters to the slot machines. I wonder if they’re even open on Christmas? Can I get any closer to the bottom?

Speaking of crazes, I think the Krispy Kreme Donut was the biggest casualty in the Atkins diet frenzy. Poor Krispy Kremes. They should have diversified and put more emphasis on selling things you don’t eat, like cuff links and shoehorns. There’s always a demand for cuff links and shoehorns, right?

Here’s an idea. We should, starting next year I guess, alternate a big blowout Christmas one year, with a super low-key Christmas the next. We can call them high Christmas and low Christmas. And Christmas 2005 will be a low Christmas, which means it will be against the law to advertise Christmas in any way. Home decorations may only stay up from December 23rd to the 26th. Big Christmas trees will be taboo, of course. Table models only. Also, holiday music will only be ultra traditional and played or sung at low volume, sort of peaceful and introspective-like. No nativity scenes or special church productions will be allowed; just a quick mention of Jesus’ birthday during a regular ol’ sermon will be tolerated. Radio stations that play seasonal music and businesses that play seasonal background music will be heavily fined. Red and green together will be a fashion faux pas. But then, Christmas 2006 rolls in like a festive multi-stormed hurricane and everyone welcomes it enthusiastically because it’s been two years since the last high Christmas. And, you know what? It feels special again. Brave Combo is back at it, blasting some wacked-out version of “Silent Night” to an audience that’s screaming uncontrollably and falling over backward. This isn’t the rambling of an insane man. Well, perhaps it is, but the concept is not without merit. The more you think about it, the better it sounds. Right? I’ll try to get things rolling in Denton and see if it snowballs nationwide.

Before Brave Combo I presented some audio installations in a few art galleries around the Dallas/Ft. Worth/Denton area. I was just beginning to explore the idea of breaking down musical preconceptions by recording long taped compilations of disparate styles of music juxtaposed against each other. You know, like, polka, then punk rock, then hillbilly country, then protestant hymn, then TV theme, then classical, then loungy jazz, then square dance calling, etc. I would pump the music through a variety of speakers; sometimes big PA stacks, sometimes little metal drive-in theatre speakers and sometimes headphones. I piled song after song from my record collection onto ¼ inch reel-to-reel tape. It was cumbersome but the sound quality was great. I wanted my listener to enjoy the experience and appreciate every style equally. For me, this period of time was about learning how to not judge. Through the process, which eventually included a live band (Brave Combo) it’s been interesting, trying to express, through music, that everything is equal. I’m compelled to do this. I don’t know why. I don’t feel particularly obligated to make music for the greater good. Although I am, of course, delighted that our fans consider us special. But, as I’ve said before, my motivations are usually pretty selfish and geared to what is best for Brave Combo.

Speaking of Brave Combo, December is a unique month. Come to a show and see why. I’ll give you a hint. It’s lighter than air and feels like gum stuck to the bottom of a movie theatre seat. Well, that’s a bad hint; totally misleading, actually.

As I wander toward the end of another year, I can’t help but notice that I still don’t fit in. I remain in the dark about so many things and have absolutely no hope that I’ll ever understand what fuels the mainstream. When I was young, rock music didn’t fall over into my parents’ lives much. It was part of my secret world; a lonely road that felt rife with possibilities. But, a forbidden quality was essential. So, Brave Combo must continue to find its own path. Standard formulas for fame and success don’t work for us. They never did. We’re a “blaze your own trail” kind of outfit and we depend on loyal fans more than you know. We want to be fresh, exciting and relevant or at least good sounding and spiffy. It’s hard work. But somebody has to do it. Or not. Okay, my dog, Augie, is ready to go home. I often bring him to the office with me and he lets me know when time’s up. We both have short attention spans. But I can read English. He can’t. I can eat sitting up. He can’t. I know that a drum is a musical instrument. He doesn’t know what it is, but it scares him. So, as Augie whines at the door, I’ll say goodbye.