IF 50 IS THE NEW 30, THEN NOVEMBER IS THE NEW NEW YEAR
Most people wait on their fat asses and promise to only hold onto their last 8 packs of cigarettes until the last day of the year, hoping that their upcoming month of hedonism may be their last. It usually isn't. I mean, if you really wanted to do something, you'd already be doing it right now. WINNERS DON'T WAIT.
Wait, hold up:
Which brings me to, well, now.
I told myself I'd start a band in January, but waiting is for pussies.
I've stopped being a pouty bitch as of late about my personal state in music and started working on putting my new band together. Auditions are lined up. I've always been a pretty keen guy (so keen!) when it comes to these things. Inviting, open, very light, never intimidating. This time, it'll be different.
For bass players, the only requisite talent is being black. A part of me is joking, and the other part of me...
For drummers, anyone with a level head, a decent iPod and a lack of a pathetically fooled arrogance will be a shoe-in.
For guitar players, I simply want them to show up without their girlfriends. Actually, it'd be nice if they would just show up.
For vocalists, they've got have a sort of sexiness that's either attained by attitude or looks, charisma up the asshole and an honest voice. No more wannabes for Hugo. I want that real shit. Potent as your uncle's heroin.
It feels like 2007 again, but with a ridiculous amount of fresh talents. Recent connections have pulled me out of my old musical ways and old musical networks, and being reborn into a new environment of thinkers is the way to go.
It's so motivating that it feels like my last group I was in never even happened. A hearty, Christmas time memory zap. Best early holiday gift ever? YOU BETCHA!