February 11, 2009
I'm turning 33 on Sunday. I think this means I have to go and get a real job now. I think this means I have to change my jeans more than once every two weeks. I assume from here on in that I should fold my clothes after they come out of the dryer. By all rights, I should be married by now and thinking about what to name the kids I haven't conceived as yet. Hmmm. Something Bohemian. Something clever. Something original. But not too obscure so as to make his/ her life hell in middle school. Thoreau? Beretta? Maximilian? Doity? Baron Von... Or maybe a good ol' Yuppie name; Tabitha?
No. I am not quite there yet. These jeans are far too greased and broken in to wash right now. The laundry is warm and welcoming when you wear it straight out of the dryer. And I'm having too much fun not knowing if, when and or how I'll survive in the music industry as it clings to the steep, slick walls of the spiked punch bowl that is the world we live in today.
Incubus is releasing an album in May of 2009; a "best of" type thing. It has forced serious introspection and reassessment for me. I have been listening to out takes, demos, rarities and unreleased tidbits for the better part of a two months now and I can safely say that I am overwhelmed! So much has transpired over the past ten years that I really haven't stopped to look at it with any objectivity until just recently. That is, after all, the most difficult part of being immersed in the creative process; you have a really hard time seeing any of it through anyone's filter but your own.
I am proud of what we have done as a band. That I can say with certitude. I am proud of what I have contributed to this strange sonic and social experiment called 'Incubus'. And I am proud that we have been able to capture the ears and hearts of so many of you...
Onto different topics though! I wanted to thank each and every one of you again for coming out to see 'Ectoplasm'. It was such a pleasure to meet those of you I was able to, and to hear your thoughts on art, culture, music, social philosophy, food, sex and drugs. Among other things. I decided to do a limited run of 250, signed 8.5 x 11 inch lithographs of three of the smaller sketches from 'Ectoplasm'. All are signed and numbered and each has a love spell set upon it by none other than Madame Blavatsky's cleaning lady's illegitimate daughter. When you open your package and the set of three, signed prints hits your eyes you will instantly fall in Like (or Love) and not feel bad about having spent $100 on three, colored pieces of paper. Nice paper with nice images upon it, but paper nonetheless.
"Hey, Brandon! Don't you know we are in a deep recession right now?! You insensitive asshole! You money grubbing, bean hoarding piece of Jackalope dung!"
Signed, Brandon's left hemisphere of his brain, Esquire.
Hi Brandon's Brain's left hemisphere! Thanks for the great question. You are right. $100 is way too much to send on art right now. Unless that is... you have something against all things awesome. And you don't want your eyes to have orgasms every time they catch the sight of any one of the three pieces in question. Yes, eyes can have orgasms. And yes, you will cream your goggles. Thanks for writing!
"Hey Brandon! I didn't realize that Madame Blavatsky had had a cleaning lady! And that she had a love child, no less. Did she really put a love spell on each one of the prints you are selling on your website? And if my Wife feels threatened by my newfound love for your art, can I have her talk to you? Hey, thanks a lot!"
Hi Bruce! Gosh, what an amazing question! Yes, she put a love spell on each piece. And yes, have your Wife call me if she feels left out. Thanks!
"Hi Brandon! Long time listener, first time writing. I was wondering how the prints should best be presented once they arrive at my doorstep in the cool, box you packed them in. And I wanted to know if you got the Jello Mold I sent with the bits of my DNA sprinkled on top. Hope you liked it!"
Signed, The creepy girl who has a polaroid collection of her poops.
Hey there, Polaroid Poop Girl! I got the Jello Mold. And enjoyed it's gelatin-ish goodness. If I were you, I'd have them framed by your favorite, local framer. These are archive quality prints and if taken care of, might be worth something one day! Especially of I wrap my car around a telephone pole one dark, Winter night while drunk on power and cough syrup. Ok, bye!
Anyway... thanks for checking in, kids. I love you and I hope you all are staying warm and hopeful in what is proving to be one of the strangest times in the History of the World.