Satyricon is born! (again?!)

Oh great joy! Yellow Alex has released a work of art. It is an album of music. The title is Satyricon. Let me be among the first to say this album is genius.

This album splits the contemporary Art world, fuck just the music world, we are speaking of Art. There is before this album, and there is the present, which now includes this album.  It is watershed, it is fragmentary, it is whole.  Living through the modern wake, the postmodern deconstruction, this album delivers something appropriate for our age.  It is...worth a listen.

You can download it for free here, just make sure you read the text below the tracks and follow Alex's instructions:

http://yellowalexbyhisself.bandcamp.com/

I first saw Yellow Alex, aka Alex Gedeon, perform in 2005 while I was living in nyc. He was in a band called Trick and the Heartstrings.  This was before he was Yellow Alex.  Trick and the Heartstrings is one of my favorite bands ever.  If you know me, you've probably heard me ramble on about Trick.  I was managing a band called Paragraph at the time, and Trick and the Heartstrings were what we wanted to be.  When Trick and the Heartstrings broke up in 2007, I was heartbroken. I saw so much potential in the band.  I was sure they would ride a wave of success akin to the Strokes or Prince or U2.  But like so many other bands whose talents far outweigh the shit we hear on the radio, Trick did not become famous and for personal reasons decided to disband.

Alex eventually moved from nyc back home to Los Angeles, I believe in 2007.  Since then he has been working on new projects.  He created Yellow Alex, and then created a band called Yellow Alex and the Feelings.  Because I was such a big Trick and the Heartstrings fan, it was hard for me to get into the Feelings project.  That said, they are pretty fantastic.  But with this solo release, as Yellow Alex, Alex Gedeon kindof did what I wanted him to do.  Just go fucking ballistic and blow shit up.  He has broken new ground.  He has produced something experimental. Oh that word is so licentious! so ridiculous! He has opened up his heart and soul.  Because the ground is broken, a new slew of audio intelligence is seeping up from the cracks in the concrete.  Expect the music to be raw, broken and whole, safe and lost, imaginary, displaced, and hungry.  I am so inspired by this album (you can't really call it an album, but we humans are stuck in language and the choices are limited, and at the end of the day we must choose).  Through James Joyce, Samuel Beckett, Michel Foucault, Jaques Derrida, James Baldwin, David Foster Wallace, channeling Nietzsche and many others, Alex Gedeon/Yellow Alex has given us something that finally makes sense.  It is a musical response to the 20th century, and a brilliant interpretation of the United States.  We have, unknowingly been waiting for Gedeon.

satyr - 1. a sylvan deity in Greek mythology having certain characteristics of a horse or goat and fond of Dionysian revelry; 2. a lecherous man

icon - 3. an object of uncritical devotion: Idol

American Idol

America awash in lecherous, empty, money-motivated signs

I became friends with Alex while living in new york, and our friendship has continued to this day.  We don't speak often, we usually correspond by email.  Lately, Alex has been in an anti-internet mood, which I totally understand.  But through various communications, he told me he was working on what is now Satyricon.  However, I had no idea it would break this amount of ground and re-establish the importance of good pop music, funk, soul, taking risks and an open mind.  When I got his email with the link to the album, I was euphoric.  I knew before I listened to a single song (actually, I had heard about half of the tracks already, in rougher form, because Alex was kind enough to share them early on) but before I heard any part of the new album, I knew it was, would be, is brilliant.

I was overjoyed and knocked over with humility when I saw my name on his PER DILIGO list.  In Latin, as I understand it, this basically translates as "with love, affection, gratitude".  It is essentially a list of acknowledgements.  I was shocked to see my name.  I feel such gratitude and amazement/disbelief that I could have played a small role in inspiring Alex to create this project.  Alex has been a beacon of inspiration, joy and creative courage for me.  To be on this list is very meaningful.  The first two names on the list are the other members of Trick and the Heartstrings.  Danny Lane, the lead singer of Paragraph, the band I managed while in nyc, is also on this list.  My heart is warm being a part of this group.  So much love to Alex.  So much love to Leif and Peter, the other members of Trick and the Heartstrings.  So much love to Danny Lane, Joe Imburgio, Mike Gagliardi and Casey Jost, the guys in Paragraph.

But the day belongs to Alex.  I have now listened to Satyricon from start to finish.  I am again in awe and inspired.

Function with love and creative courage--the rest will fall, fall, fall into place,
Anthony

ps - I'm sorry, but I had to do this.  This is one of my favorite Trick and the Heartstring's songs.  Enjoy.

untitled

Someone asked me what I meant by modern.  What specifically do you mean by modern? Bauhaus modern? This in the context of a duvet.  If I could have a duvet designed for me, one that would last for many years of my life, one that would become an integral part of my daily experience, every day pulling the duvet into a little triangle in the corner of the bed where I get in.   How would I want this duvet designed, keeping in mind the many changes that life will bring in the next ten to fifteen years.

Well, I would like it to be modern.  Sleek.  Clean lines. Simple. Blues, maybe grays.  But if you get inspired, please feel free to make what inspires you.  We like things that are quirky, yeah, so it could be modern and sleek, elegant, but it could also have moments of quirkiness, okay, maybe only one or two moments of quirkiness on this modern duvet.  We should keep the quirkiness to a minimum on this modern, elegant yet still very grounded and simple duvet.

I want to look at this King sized duvet covering our Queen sized bed and feel the warmth of Rothko.  Can you do that?  Is there any warmth in Rothko?  It's not primary, the warmth, but it may yet be there. I'm not sure.  You would have to go out to the balcony on the fourth floor and look down and compare the feeling to the feeling standing in front of one of Rothko's color fields.  But Rothko is already a cliche, and jumping off the building ledge to be impaled by a steel fence post, a stake through the gut, is not a good idea.  I have no thoughts of committing suicide, no ideation, no plans.  The idea belongs to Virginia Woolf, in her Mrs. Dalloway, the character Septimus Smith, who went to war for Shakespeare and the woman he loved, commits suicide in this fashion.

There is a connection between the modern, sleek, down-to-earth duvet, Rothko and Septimus Smith.  They are the fire and the water, the blazing torrent of my innards, the red ants that frenzy in my guts, and the quest for calm.  The sharp fuckable quench to the fire and the calm sea of San Sebastian.  Hemingway's guffaw and paradox, the desire for hot fuckable treats ("i'm just the same as anyone else when it comes to scratching for my meat" Bob Dylan sings in Goin' to Acapulco) and the liquid calm of bourbon whiskey or any other smoother smooth smoothness to life's raging gut bucket swarm fire, a pool of gasoline burning bright, right there on the floor.

liquid love for the long nights, fuckable or not,
Anthony

"Now, everytime, you know, when the well breaks down
I just go on and pump it some.
Rose Marie, she likes to go to big places,
and just sit there waiting for me to come."

Go and have some fun

Anxiety, Depression and Panic Attacks

Over the last two years things have been getting progressively better with my anxiety, depression and panic attacks.  There are many reasons: Abbey, new psychiatrist, change in meds, continued support from my two therapists (one wasn't enough), primary care doctor, love and support from my family and close friends, and lots of hard work, to name a few.  Also on this list is the absence of chest pains.  From 2008, after my pulmonary embolism, to let's say mid 2010, I frequently experienced terrifying chest pains.   During this time when the chest pains were frequent, I went to the ER around 9 times thinking I was either having another pulmonary embolism or a heart attack.  Each time I had an EKG and blood tests and the results always came back normal.  I was not going to die.

Since mid-2010 the chest  pains have become less and less frequent.  In fact, over the last year I can't remember a time when I had the terrifying type of chest pains I had in the years previous.

Yesterday, I had a little moment, let's say.  It was about 3:15pm and I was at my desk at work.  I started to feel pressure in my chest in the region around my heart.  The pressure got stronger and I was feeling something akin to compression.  At the same moment, I started to feel pain and pressure in my jaw.  I have gotten infinitely better at remaining somewhat calm during these chest pain attacks.  I have learned to tell myself, "this is anxiety or a panic attack, and I'm not going to die," because that's really what terrifies me is that the chest pains are the precursor to swift death, the kind you don't come back from, the kind that leaves your body physically wherever you fell, even if it's just in some building at UC Berkeley for your co-workers to find.  But I have learned to feel the chest pains and not exacerbate the chest pains by panicking and ending up in the ER.  Since I've experienced the chest pains maybe a hundred times now and haven't died, I finally believe I won't die the next time.  But yesterday was different, the jaw pain was different and of course being the diligent person/hypochondriac I am, I immediately googled "chest pain and jaw pain" (always seems like the best idea but is the worst) and the first page that came up was Angina, which is like a heart attack but not a heart attack, but I started freaking out because of this new combination: crushing chest pain and jaw pain, and started to think I was having a heart attack.

This pain is terrifying because the physical sensation is real.  I felt strong chest pain, strong painful pressure in my chest near my heart and I felt this weird, strong jaw pain.  And since this was the first time I had ever felt both together at the same time my anxiety spiked and I started to get dizzy.  I had to take off my glasses, rub my eyes, walk out of the office, get some water, worried I might fall over and die at any second, but trying to employ the techniques I've learned to calm myself.  I immediately took a klonopin (like xanex) because I carry them with me wherever I go.

I wasn't sure what to do.  Fortunately, the pain subsided after about 5 minutes.  But I was still really shaken.  I have been through this so many times, I didn't want to call a doctor and have them tell me to go to the ER, but I also didn't want to be the boy who cried wolf and finally hit the jackpot and have some serious heart condition and not do anything about it and die. I had therapy last night, so I decided to wait and discuss the whole situation with my therapist at 6pm, assuming the chest and jaw pain didn't return.  Fortunately it didn't, I went to therapy, then went home and just let myself feel the terror and sadness that comes from the physical sensations and also from the constant struggle with anxiety, depression and panic.  I was able to cry for a short time.  Abbey was golden, like always in helping me to put the incident in the context of my day and my recent struggles.  Her love and support is invaluable.

The reason I write about this tonight is because the chest and jaw pain and subsequent panic I felt yesterday was a return to a place I did not want to re-visit.  But this is how it goes for those of us who deal with anxiety, depression and panic attacks.  Every day is a challenge, some days a struggle, some days a war, and some days a violent upheaval and a blow to your gut, safety and equilibrium.  There is so much suffering.

There are so many other people who have it much worse than me, suffering from debilitating bi-polar disorder, schizophrenia, and other mental illnesses in various combinations. But if you suffer from mental health issues at all, I guess this post is for you.  I want you to know that I go through this shit and the next day still feel like shit.

If you are going through some shit and you don't have anyone to talk to, please email me or don't email me, but take one small step in a direction you know is good for you.  You'll need to build a team, but it starts by reaching out to one person and being open to change.  And it can change, things do improve.  In fact, things improve more amazingly than you can possibly imagine.  If you're at a place where you look into the tunnel and you don't see the light at the end, I just want to tell you that there is light, you just can't see it.  You can feel so depressed and sick that you are sure you are a fool, an idiot, that you have nothing to offer anyone, you have no reason to live; you can feel like you are flawed at a genetic level and that this flaw is penetrating and raw and more real than any possible hope, but it can change and the shape of your thoughts can change and you begin to start feeling good, really good about yourself, about your life.

These last few days, up to right now in this moment, have been rough and a reminder of how shitty things can feel, how uncertain and vulnerable.  But there is music and there is writing and there is love. The things you feel and the thoughts in your head can change.  You must know this.  If you are suffering right now in this moment, know that I love you, as a fellow being, alive and feeling.  I have felt pain and will continue to feel pain.  I have never felt and will never feel your pain, but I have felt pain and things have improved, exponentially.  This is possible for you. I believe this.

with love in the face of shit and mud and hopelessness, with love,
Anthony

Resolution 808-#1 I am the greatest MC to Ever Live

Whereas, when I listen to Jay-Z and Kanye West’s song “Nig**s in Paris” it becomes clear to me that I am the greatest, hardest, dopest rapper to ever live.

"I don't even know what that means!"

Whereas, no other rapper has ever reached the heights of my genius, both in terms of lyricism and beak-making. I make my beats, too. They are amazing.

Whereas, FUCK I’m so FUCKING HARD. I pop a glock in the building, at the club, damaging a motherfucker’s reputation. You can’t rap, dude.

Whereas, if there was a rapping competition, I would win.

Whereas, Eminem is the weakest fucking rapper in the world because he is white.

Whereas, I am white, and I am the best motherfukcing rapper to ever live. That’s right bitch, better than, you ready for this, Tupac, Biggie, Jay-Z, Kanye, Big Daddy Kane, Slick Rick, KRS dash one, Common, Salt n’ Pepper, all the Roots (more like the Shrubs), the whole motherfucking weak ass Sugar Hill gang, Snoop, the Dog Pound, Dre (is he even on this list?), every confusing member of the Wu-Tang Clan and all their bitch ass aliases, Nas (more like Nah), EPMD, and all these soft motherfuckers: Tribe Called Quest, De La Soul, Arrested Development?!, Kid Cudi (Kid Crappy), the Beastie Boys, Aesop Rock, the Nonce, AC Alone, Del the Funky Homosapien, and Paper Boy.

Whereas, I give respect to Public Enemy, NWA and the 2 Live Crew. But they are still pussies when compared to the deep motherfucking thoughts that I espouse in the form of rhymed venom. I am greater than Public Enemy and their political audio war on white capitalist pigs. I am greater than NWA as a whole and in all its parts; I am greater than “Fuck the Police”. I am more clever, vulgar, beastly and enjoyable than 2 Live Crew at its greatest moment.

Whereas, Nicki Minaj is the second best rapper ever. Her verse in Kanye's song "Monster" is the greatest non-mine verse ever. Amazing. But I am better.

Whereas, I live a lifestyle of grandeur. You live in the same boring circles as a hamster. I pop bottles, I date models, I cry in puddles, I own a beagle, I fly to Paris, I got more days off than Ferris. I got more cream than a Starbucks wet dream. Do I have more ends than an elder man spends on his piss problem? well that depends, no it don’t, I am the richest man in the world and he’s a just a pauper with a paper diaper.

Whereas, like the Golden State Warriors, I am the greatest rap institution of all time.  I love the motherfucking Golden State Warriors!!! DAMN!

Whereas, I’m the most interesting man in the world. Fuck dose-eckies. and marc ecko and tommy hillfiger and you: high self esteem rapper, like Drake.

Whereas, my samples are more creative and funnier and better than Kanye’s at slowed, regular and sped up speed.

Whereas, coming from the hood I was raised in, Albany Hill, it’s a miracle I’m still alive. I got through schools where occasionally there were fights. I lived on a hill where you could get a motherfucking traffic ticket for not fully stopping at the stop sign. I lived with the constant threat that my father would be upset that I wasn’t doing my homework. FUCK THAT. I DIDNT DO MY HOMEWORK, OCCASIONALLY.

Whereas, I am so fucking strong, like physically, like ESPN late night strongest man re-runs. Is that Emerson Samoliovich dude ever gonna beat me? No. I pull the big rigs with my teeth, I flip huge tires, I throw barrels, I flex my biceps and knockout motherfucking fans on the other side of the rope.

Whereas, my record is yet to be released. It is still in a brilliant inchoate form.

Whereas, like so many other successful rappers, I have not yet been signed by a major label. Like so many other successful rappers, I have not yet finished a song. Like so many other successful rappers, I have not yet started a song.  Like so many other successful rappers, I have never rapped.

It is Resolved the I am the motherfucking greatest rapper of all time. (bitches)

(Seriously, get at me with some dope beats. We could collaborate.)

Hard,
T-$Money

The 2011-12 Golden State Warriors will make the playoffs

You heard it here first: The Golden State Warriors (currently 2-4) will make the playoffs in the NBA this year.

Here's my theory:

First: Monta, Steph and David Lee need to become elite NBA players.  This starts with believing they are elite NBA players.  I think they can become elite NBA players.  I think new head coach Mark Jackson can instill in them the belief that they are elite NBA players.  Actually, mostly just Monta is an elite player.  But Steph can be a phenomenally good player, and David Lee can be the third punch the Warriors need.  But all three need to step up.  Essentially, I think this year's Warriors are a bit like the 2010 world champion baseball Giants.  A team nobody really gave any credit at the beginning of the year that has the magic parts to win a championship.  But in order to win a championship the Warriors have to play defense.  I believe Mark Jackson can inspire them to play the defense they need to win.  The Warriors need to be insane on defense.  They have to play without reason.  It has to be this crazed desire to help each other, to do whatever is physically necessary to stop the opposing team. Play team defense, which also requires a great deal of intelligence.  If one player gets beat, the other four Warriors have to scramble to the ball with insanity and belief.  On defense, there is no ego, there is no single player, it is a mob of energy, every player defends his man as best he can, but the other Warriors scramble, thrash, pummel other players to get in position to stop drives, get hands in passing lanes, move feet move feet move feet, contest shots, block out, rebound.

I believe with Kwame Brown, Andres Bierdins, Ekpe Udoh, and a couple other bigs, the Warriors can protect the basket.  I think Kwame Brown needs to step up and play inspired.  I believe with Marc Jacksons' coaching Kwame can do this.  I believe Kwame can protect the basket enough and rebound enough.  I believe he can over-achieve this year.

Dorell Wright has to hit threes like he did last year, which I believe he will.  And the guys like Rush, Ish, Klay Thompson (who I think was a horrible pick, but I hope can add something with his shot) and now Nate Robinson (I don't expect much from Nate) have to step up on a semi-regular basis and carry the team when others falter.

The Warriors, in my estimation can play with every team in the NBA in the regular season except the Heat.  But nobody can really play with Heat.  And it only matters in the playoffs.  Then we gotta hope for magic.  But who knows, the season is long and a million things could happen, like injuries.  This brings me to Steph Curry.  He has to be healthy for this all to work.  He has to stop spraining his ankle.  A newscaster today thought it might be good if he sits for a couple of weeks now and really lets his ankle heal.  This might be a good idea.  Regardless, Steph has to play, and he has score.  He's got to go back and watch video from his days at Davidson and realize there is no better pure shooter in the NBA. This guy can be great.  It doesn't look like it, cause he's so slight of build, but that shot is so pure.  He can be amazing or a regular basis.  I think he knows it, but he's just got to make it happen.

In sum, I think the Warriors have the talent, mostly Monta, then Steph and just enough of David Lee.  They also have the defensive size with Kwame Brown, Biedrins, Udoh, and Donald MacGuire to protect the basket and rebound enough.  They don't have to lead the league in defense or rebounding (and they most certainly won't), they just need to play defense and rebound enough to win.  And I think they have the magic, the coaching of Mark Jackson with this combination of players.  I believe they will make the playoffs, just barely.  And after that who knows, crazy shit can happen.

with Bay love,
Anthony

These Days