No, Jesse Welles is NOT pro-Charlie fucking Kirk

Yes, Jesse Welles wrote a song about the killing of Charlie Kirk. NO, it was NOT a pro-gung ho-Charlie is a martyr song.

It was a song about gun violence and freedom of speech...

Beyond the Lip Service

 

I remember the first time I saw Boy George. It was 1981 or 82, I honestly forget which. I was in a bar with my guy, Scott, having a beer, and they had MTV on. Do You Really Wanna Hurt Me came on, and I saw Boy George and my jaw hit the fucking floor and I started laughing in hysterics.

I was utterly astounded that this queer looking guy had the sheer guts to be on TV dressed like a woman. I was amazed that MTV allowed it on their programming. I was too caught up in staring at him and being half amazed, half grossed out, to notice that that motherfucker could SING. I think back now to how I felt, how I was kind of horrified and freaked out, and I think...

The Holy Trinity: Why I Keep Buying These Same Three Records

 

Most six-year-olds in 1971 were vibrating to "The Wheels on the Bus" or whatever upbeat nonsense was playing on the radio, but not me. No, I was already deep in the trenches of acoustic melancholy. I was sitting there in my kindergarten class, probably staring at a pile of blocks, while the haunting melodies of Joni Mitchell’s Blue, the earthy warmth of Carole King’s Tapestry, and the gentle drawl of James Taylor’s Sweet Baby James played on a loop in my head. 

I’ve owned these albums on vinyl, 8-track, cassette, CD, and every digital format known to man; at this point, the only thing missing is a reel-to-reel copy, and frankly, my wallet is grateful for that one omission. 

And now, the albums.

The Voice I Thought I Lost

 

Me, 17 years old

All my childhood and teens I sang, sang all the time. Played guitar. Music was the thing that brought me to life, and I wanted nothing more than to buy a PA system and join a band. The singers I listened to shaped my style. Grace Slick, Tina Turner, Ann Wilson, Janis Joplin, Janis Ian, Joni Mitchell.

My dad always encouraged me in my music, always asked me to play and sing for him, always got happy when I learned a new song or wrote one. He especially loved that. He gifted me my Harmony Sovereign for Christmas when I was twelve and paid for guitar lessons twice a week for several years. He was my biggest fan.

When I was fourteen I won a school wide talent show singing the 59th Street Bridge Song by Simon and Garfunkel and accompanying myself on my Harmony Sovereign guitar. That was the kind of kid I was. Music was where I lived...

Who has time to be bored? Not me!

Today was not really an art day. I diddled around with the Gimp for about an hour, then my writing muse slapped me upside my head. I have written six articles for my blog today about all kinds of things:

• Impeaching Trump 
• Chicago and Music being in my bones
• A bit about a portmanteued proverb I love 
• One about nicotine addiction
• One about god, or the idea of god, or whatever
• And this one, which only kind of counts

It was a productive day.

I really am an eclectic freak. Playing uke and recorder, doing digital art and zentangle and making jewelry, and writing from my gut. Between all that, I talk to people, make new friends, share a gazillion memes, play computer games, and more. And when I go to bed, I read for at least an hour before turning out the light.

I don't have time to be bored. Considering that I'm basically housebound and can't really leave my bedroom due to the difficulty involved in hauling my carcass from room to room, my life is incredibly rich and full.

I am a very fortunate old crone.

Chicago: Where the Music Took Hold - TWICE

I am willing to bet good money that the first music I ever heard was my mother singing to me in Chicago, the city where I was born and where I lived for the first three months of my life before we moved to Boston. 

The year I was eleven, life went pretty cattywumpus. I'd been living with my mother for the previous year, and that pretty much imploded due to my special needs as an undiagnosed bipolar person. I returned to my father's home, and since he was in the middle of relocating across town and setting up housekeeping, he asked his mom, my Gramma Mary, if I could come to Chicago and stay with her for a month or two. Gramma said yes...

Punk Lyrics: The Pussy Grabber's Ballad/FUCK your empire

(Verse 1) Woke up this morning, checked the news 

The same old clown is peddlin' his blues 

The wrinkled suit, the golden lies 

A grinning ghoul with beady eyes

(Chorus) The Orange Man! He's a plastic king! 

He's got no soul, he's got no brain! 

The Orange Man! A walking disease! 

He'll poison the well and burn all the trees!

(Verse 2) He'll build his walls and sell his hate 

A perfect puppet for the one percent's state 

He'll tweet his venom for all to see 

A carnival barker for hypocrisy

(Chorus) The Orange Man! He's a plastic king! 

He's got no soul, he's got no brain! 

The Orange Man! A walking disease! 

He'll poison the well and burn all the trees!

(Bridge) He's not a leader, just a corporate shill 

A reality show with a bitter pill 

A spray-tanned emperor with no new clothes 

Just a stinking weed, where a flower grows

(Chorus) The Orange Man! He's a plastic king! 

He's got no soul, he's got no brain! 

The Orange Man! A walking disease! 

He'll poison the well and burn all the trees!

(Outro) He's a joke! A charade! A big mistake! 

The future's on fire for goodness sake! 

The Orange Man! The Orange Man! The Orange Man! 

[Verse 1] Golden throne built on bankrupt dreams 

Plastic crown, fake-ass regime 

He sells snake oil with a game show grin 

While the rich get fat and we choke on spin 

[Chorus] This is my riot, my roar, my spit 

No peace signs, just a raised middle digit 

Your empire’s a joke, your truth’s a scam 

We’re the noise that breaks your flimsy glam 

[Bridge] You want worship? I bring war 

You want ratings? I bring gore 

You want silence? I bring screams 

We’re your nightmares, not your dreams

Punk Lyrics: Trash Day Baby

Decided to try writing a song for the Ramones, even though they're all dead. I'm pretty happy with this. I think Dee Dee would have grooved on it.

(Verse 1)

I met her in the alley with a busted boom box

Leather boots, chewing gum, flipping off the cops

She said, “Life’s a scam and I’m the refund queen”

Then she stole my fries and vanished from the scene

(Verse 2)

She’s got a switchblade tongue and a candy cane curse

Screaming at the preacher from the back of the hearse

She don’t do prayers, she don’t do rules

But she’ll crash your party and eat all your jewels

(Verse 3)

She’s got a tattoo that says “NOPE” on her neck

Spits out love like a cigarette wreck

She’s my punk rock mess, my chaos bouquet

We kiss, we fight, we ghost, we slay

(Chorus)

Hey! Trash day baby, rollin’ in the grime

Hey! Trash day baby, screamin’ out of time

Hey! Trash day baby, dirty little crime

She’s mine, she’s mine, she’s mine - 'til Tuesday night

Punk Lyrics: Nuremberg For Today

[Verse 1]

You signed the orders, you built the hell,

You watched the bodies drop and said “Oh well.”

You called it legal, we call it war

And we’ve got receipts, you corrupt little whore.

[Chorus]

The trials are coming, better learn to plead,

For every stolen breath and every dirty deed.

You wore the badge, you played the part

Now the reckoning’s here, and it’s tearing you apart.

[Verse 2]

You caged the kids, you fed the lies,

You let the sick die while you monetized.

You laughed in court, you rigged the game

But history’s a bitch and she remembers your name.

[Bridge]

No more silence, no more spin,

We’re carving your legacy into rusted tin.

Every file, every tape, every bloodstained page

Will scream your crimes from a burning stage.

[Chorus]

The trials are coming, better learn to plead,

For every stolen breath and every dirty deed.

You wore the badge, you played the part

Now the reckoning’s here, and it’s tearing you apart.

[Outro]

This ain’t revenge, it’s righteous fire

A courtroom choir and a funeral pyre.

We’ll drag your name through every verse

And bury your legacy in the motherfucking dirt.

Adolescent Adoration and Adult Music Taste

Eric Faulkner of the Bay City Rollers was such a handsome man in the 70s, and still is, really. 

Even when I was ten and had just discovered boys, I leaned toward older boys who had a more MAN look to them than that pretty adolescent boy stage where they could just as easily be a girl. For instance, all my friends wanted to marry Luke Skywalker. I wanted me some Han Solo. Han looks like a MAN, not a teenage girl.

I got your name written here in a Rose Tattoo..

I wanted to get my husband's name tattooed on, but he was really against the idea. So I got a rose, to commemorate the day we fell in love, in the San Mateo Rose Garden in California, surrounded by what we call Fire Roses (red roses that changed in a gradient to yellow at the petal tips)...

Oh MAN this song KICKS!

 

Ban books, ban guns, ban apps and television 

Ban protest, ban sex and ban religion 

Ban drugs, ban love, ban being alive 

Ban them if they look at you a way you don’t like

Discovered a musician yesterday... he's amazing

I just love this man's music.

---

Heavy Foot, by Mon Rovia 

Do you hear the sound of a bell?

Did you wish your family well

Times ain’t the same in the neighbourhood

Got the parents all going through hell

Cause the guns keep flying off the self

[Verse 2]

Do you see the man on the street?

Just fighting for a meal to eat

You can write him off as a lunatic

But it could've been you or me

If we didn't ever find our feet

[Chorus]

Love me now

Hold me down

And the government's staying on heavy foot

And they try to keep us all down

No they're never gonna keep us all down

[Verse 3]

Do you see the birds in the cage?

On the highway working likе slaves

It's a con, it's a rouse, it's a gaslight

Ain't it funny, how fare wе've came

For them to go and change the name

---

Born in Liberia, adopted by Christian missionaries and taken from a war-torn country to the US, he began journaling and dealing with his survivor's guilt, then channeled it into incredible music. Here's a great interview.