I am a Los Angeles-based twentysomething. I have a profession, and I have a secret life in music, and this blog isn't about any of that. I like Blogger because I can't read what you're thinking.
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Thursday, August 6
Our singer just quit.
But, seriously, who the fuck looks out for individual songwriting credit just weeks into being inducted into a group? For fuck's sake, how hard is it for Angelenos to accept the Radiohead pop ideology of credit? There's no "I" in music.
I mean, there is, literally, but, fuck it, you know what I mean.
Tip: Never, ever, ever, ever, ever have a conversation about royalties, credits and points after 2 bottles of wine have been cracked.
We'll see what happens; meanwhile, I think I'm going to mentally cry for the rest of the night considering that the vision The Tony, The Drew and I have had for the past nearly two years might have just been demolished with a single e-mail.
If you want it to be yours, then write "The Eraser," goddamnit. And don't call me for chords.
And you know what the sick part is? That, in the off chance this girl leaves, I'm not going to stop. There's a word for this kind of behavior.