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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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Monday, July 26   >>


Don Draper, you kinky bastard.

Americans are obsessed with masochism, huh? We just want to collectively fall off the horse just to see what getting back up feels like.

Don, however, just wants to fall off to make sure he can still feel.

This season's going to be heavy. In lighter news, the aforementioned The Lori sent a timely e-card in celebration of the season premiere to Mad Men:

It's funny because it's true.


You know when you feel good about something you find yourself clapping to yourself like a bro and you immediately walk to your next task? That's what music is feeling like these days. In past musical projects, I was always concerned about what people would think about the music being written (anyone who says they've never factored audience opinion in is a liar). This time it's such a self-centered, egoistic process that the satisfaction in pleasing my own tastes has quickened the members' writing by lightspeed. What I'm getting done in one week used to take months with past projects.

I've failed a lot in music in the past 6 or 7 years, but a part of me wished I failed a lot, lot more.


Last week, one of the directors at this office met me at the elevator started venting to me about poor weekly numbers. Then he blamed it on the quality of leads from the south.

"They all ask about 'Obama money.' It's all these fucking niggers, man," he said.

"I've got to get back to my work," I said, sternly. I was shocked, given the nature of this office is pretty progressive, youthful, and void of stupidity. I thought "Smarties Only" was the policy. Guess some assholes fly under the radar.

For the next few days, I avoided any conversation with this guy. That kind of talk is a dealbreaker in being my associated to anyone. He noticed.

Fast forward to this morning, where a co-worker and I are talking about Joss Stone. The Racist passed by.

The Racist asked, "You guys like Joss Stone?"

I said, "Yes."

The Racist said, "She's got so much attitude. I love her. Even though she's British she's got soul roots in gospel music, man. That's the greatest music ever, isn't it?"

I was silent.

The Racist said, "Mad respect for black music . They're not to be messed with."

Reputation-save fail.