Trout Mask Zen

Captain Beefheart's 10 Commandments of Guitar Playing

(From the Captain Beefheart Radar Station)

1. Listen to the birds.

That's where all the music comes from. Birds know everything about how it should sound and where that sound should come from. And watch hummingbirds. They fly really fast, but a lot of times they aren't going anywhere.

2. Your guitar is not really a guitar Your guitar is a divining rod.

Use it to find spirits in the other world and bring them over. A guitar is also a fishing rod. If you're good, you'll land a big one.

3. Practice in front of a bush

Wait until the moon is out, then go outside, eat a multi-grained bread and play your guitar to a bush. If the bush dosen't shake, eat another piece of bread.

4. Walk with the devil

Old Delta blues players referred to guitar amplifiers as the "devil box." And they were right. You have to be an equal opportunity employerin terms of who you're brining over from the other side. Electricity attracts devils and demons. Other instruments attract other spirits. An acoustic guitar attracts Casper. A mandolin attracts Wendy. But an electric guitar attracts Beelzebub.

5. If you're guilty of thinking, you're out

If your brain is part of the process, you're missing it. You should play like a drowning man, struggling to reach shore. If you can trap that feeling, then you have something that is fur bearing.

6. Never point your guitar at anyone

Your instrument has more clout than lightning. Just hit a big chord then run outside to hear it. But make sure you are not standing in an open field.

7. Always carry a church key

That's your key-man clause. Like One String Sam. He's one. He was a Detroit street musician who played in the fifties on a homemade instrument. His song "I Need a Hundered Dollars" is warm pie. Another key to the church is Hubert Sumlin, Howlin' Wolf's guitar player. He just stands there like the Statue of Liberty-making you want to look up her dress the whole time to see how he's doing it.

8. Don't wipe the sweat off your instrument

You need that stink on there. Then you have to get that stink onto your music.

9. Keep your guitar in a dark place

When you're not playin your guitar, cover it and keep it in a dark place. If you don't play your guitar for more than a day, be sure you put a saucer of water in with it.

10. You gotta have a hood for your engine

Keep that hat on. A hat is a pressure cooker. If you have a roof on your house, the hot air can't escape. Even a lima bean has to have a piece of wet paper around it to make it grow.

Some Karma

Basement + guitar + Ohio rain + power outage = ruined guitar

What Is The Matter With Me

I admit it (the first step is admitting you have a problem); I've had a secret love affair with (and undying passion for) tragically sentimental (but genius) pop music created by almostwere's and nevertobe's, bands like The La's. I need a 12-step program and a weekly meeting.

"Hello, my name is Eric and listen to janglepop when nobody's looking."

700 Hobos

This is the real deal and ends up a sort of sublime, epic poem of the old weird America.

Listen to the reading of 700 Hobo names (to the accompaniment of a folk guitar and ghostly radio signal) HERE. All 700 Hobos illustrated (a gargantuan project) over HERE.

I can't explain why, but this is one of the most powerful things I've come across in a long time.

#153 Slo-Mo Deuteronomy:

Over and Onward

It's been a few weeks since the last chord rang out on the song journal. People have asked what I'm going to do with it (would I make a compilation disc, publish the lyrics, etc) and I just don't know. My gut feeling is to leave it as-is and move on.

I've finished my interpretation of page 65 of Cornelius Cardew's Treatise and sent it to Tom Furgas who's in charge of the project. Should be released in early summer.

All Things Are Empty

With a couple of days to go in the songjournal I'm faced with the dilemma I worried about months ago - the last song. There's the part of me that wants it to be the best one, whatever that means. There's also the part of me that hopes it goes out understated and small; a bow to the zen master upon realizing I haven't learned or accomplished anything. Well, of course I don't know what it will be. I won't until sometime on Saturday.

I don't think any of it has been about "best" (or product) at all. It's been about process, perseverance, keeping creativity alive, self discovery and loss.

Loss. That's going to be the most difficult. I've become very attached to the thing (eliminating any possibility for zen mastery here) and to stop dead in my tracks on Saturday (which, coincidentally, is also the 1st day of Passover) is going to be hard. This quote (which I cannot attribute to any reliable source) pretty much nails it, “It's weird...you know the end of something great is coming, but you want to hold on, just for one more second...just so it can hurt a little more.”

The Hive Itself a Teacup

A whirlwind of activity as I near the end (five days left) of the songjournal.

The EP I did for.ala jazz records is now available for free download HERE. The Hive Itself a Teacup is a suite of five solo free-improvisations on several acoustic stringed instruments. My deepest thanks to Omar at .ala jazz records for the label invite. I also really, really like the cover art "Oink! Oink!" made for the release. In addition, I'm almost done with a limited edition, cassette-only release (working title: Know Your Lake Monsters) for his Goat Folk label.

Also, almost done with my realization for part of Cornelius Cardew's Treatise to be released by Tom Furgas later this summer.

It's good to be busy again!