Tag Archives: 2000 Years To Christmas

Time to kick out the jams, mother fuckers.

July 29, 2022 Joseph

Jesus, how the hell did they make that image? Did they use chisels and clay tablets? I can’t even read the fricking thing. You know you’ve been around too long as a band when your earliest promo packages were written in cuneiform.

Well, it’s the doldrums of summer once again, which means we’re digging into the archives and mining our inglorious past for the occasional nugget of … whatever. I’m starting to think that Big Green was founded before the invention of the camera. Actually, it’s simpler than that – we started playing before everyone had broadcast-quality video production studios riding in their pockets.

As a result, there aren’t a lot of shots of us playing, hanging out, cavorting, etc. It’s almost like we didn’t exist before the late nineties, and we most assuredly did. But back in the day, you had to wait for the photographer to show up …. and when you’re broke, it’s a long wait.

Live from someplace

Big Green has some old recordings, of course. And yes, we’re working on new recordings (or at least rehearsing new songs) now, but we’re always digging out the oldies, cause that’s just how we roll. Just this week, I posted the first installment of our E.P. LIVE FROM NEPTUNE on our YouTube Channel – a song called Merry Christmas, Jane, a version of which also appeared on our first album, 2000 Years To Christmas. Because it’s YouTube, I covered the video screen with stills from our video demo and other random shots. Again, not a lot to choose from.

Why “Live From Neptune”? It made sense at the time. Mind you, we recorded the songs live to tape in Jeremy Shaw’s basement. This was a year after we played an outdoor concert at his house along with a couple of other bands. (I’ve posted a couple of tracks from that gig on THIS IS BIG GREEN.) We were working up a demo of some original songs, playing a bunch of takes straight into a DAT machine. (This was 1994, mind you.) Merry Christmas, Jane was one of them.

Stop action headbangers

Then there were the gigs we played at bars around where we lived in upstate New York. Most of those were kind of unmemorable. And again, no photographs … or very few. I have a handful of shots from one night we played at a club named Fat City in West Utica, NY. We played there a bunch of times over the years, sometimes under assumed names, like I-19. (There’s some video of one of those nights on YouTube, courtesy of friend of the band and former I-19 guitarist/vocalist Steve Bennett.)

I suppose it’s just bad luck that back when we were younger and less crispy looking, nobody had a camera. Now that we’re old geezers, there are cameras everywhere. It reminds me how, at one of my day gigs, the standard retirement gift was a company-branded wall mirror. What’s the last thing you want when you’re hanging up your skates? But I digress. Eyes forward, Perry – that’s the stuff. Never mind what’s behind, watch what’s ahead in stead. Harrrrumph!

Advanced boxology

Hey look what I found – an old poster or five. You never know what’s in the next box. Actually, the last five boxes had other boxes in them. One of them has the key to time in it, or so the legend goes.

Usual Rubbish

We’re number none with a rocket!

April 1, 2022 Joseph

It’s the damnedest thing, man. I can’t explain it. I mean, there must be a lot of that stuff floating around out there. Who would have thought the internet was that big? After all, the whole effing thing fits inside my smartphone. I’ll have to remember to ask Antman about that phenomenon – he might have some insights.

Yeah, here we are again, folks. Where is that? Well, we’re sitting around the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill, our adopted home, trying to figure out how our recorded music has ended up in so many weird places. (1,880 results? That’s nuts.) After all, we are not exactly experts at distribution and marketing – far from it. In fact, I suspect you would be hard pressed to find a band that’s less commercially successful than us. (WE’RE NUMBER NONE!)

Scattered like snowflakes

Thing is, we sent out a boatload of copies of 2000 Years To Christmas back in 1999/2000 when we first released it. Like any band in those days, we sent them to college radio stations, publications, reviewers, relatives, tax collectors (in lieu of payment), civil engineers (for landfill), and so on. Next thing you know, they’re showing up in remainder bins, CD listings, and random shops from here to Madagascar. (That’s 8,698 miles, by the way.)

Okay, that would be weird enough in itself. What’s even weirder is that we get mixed up with other bands named Big Green. The shuffle up our albums with ones made by these doppelgangers, and it seriously muddies the waters. Frankly, I feel a little guilty about it. We’re bringing their overall popularity down by yards every time our work is associated with them. I’m looking at you, other Big Green.

Putting a stake in the ground

Clearly, we need to make a choice. We can either stand around and do nothing, or take matters into our own hands. Actually, come to think of it, there is a third option: have Marvin (my personal robot assistant) deal with it. I’m looking around and seeing a lot of shaking heads. Not a good idea? Right. Looks like we’re back to doing nothing. Or the other thing. (You see, THIS is why we’re NUMBER NONE.)

Okay, so we’ve been putting music out there pretty consistently for the last twenty years. A couple of years ago, we affiliated with a dude on Discogs to offer the CD of 2000 Years to Christmas. That said, others have been running rings around us. Like this dude on Ebay who’s selling a Cowboy Scat: Songs in the Key of Rick disc as a British import for $30! Man god damn, if he can get that price for them, I’d be glad to identify as British.

Flogging it to death

All right, so look – we’re working on new material. Thing is, we’ve got old material to shift. So if you’ve got someone with a birthday coming up, or just know someone who loves phenomenally unpopular music, this is the place to go. You heard it here first.

Usual Rubbish

Put it all in the basket, if it fits

March 18, 2022 Joseph

Well, now, I’m not sure we need that. At least, not in that quantity. And for god’s sake, none of those. What are we, made of money? Budget, my little friend, budget!

Oh … hi, everybody. Allow me to pretend that I didn’t know you were there. (Thank you for that indulgence.) You just caught us in the midst of a semi-monthly shopping trip. We go to the big market in the middle of this very humble little town and wheel a cart around. Then, once we’ve realized that we don’t have enough money to fill the cart, we push that aside and pick up a shopping basket.

No trouble like money trouble

You know what they say. There’s no reek that beats ass, and there’s no trouble that beats broke. (Is that really what they say? Well …. someone says it somewhere, I’ll wager.) Shopping trips always remind us of how little capital we have to work with. And before you crypto currency freaks start jumping all over my shit with investment opportunities and NFTs, let me emphasize that NO, WE DO NOT HAVE ANY MONEY. WE CAN’T EVEN FILL A SHOPPING CART.

Now that I’ve said that, let me contradict myself. We can afford small things. Not small diamonds, mind you, or little bits of gold. No, things like leeks, individual walnuts, an apple or two. (If we keep going with this, we could end up with a waldorf salad.) In any case, I don’t want to paint too grim a picture. We don’t want any pity – no pity, no thank you. No THANK you. (For more about the significance of this phrase, see Rod Steiger in In The Heat Of The Night.)

Just forget it, Abe. We ain't got the scratch.

Shameless plea for help

Okay, now I’m going to contradict myself again. The thing is, with prices on the rise (and I know you’re heard all about it), we’re getting less and less into that little shopping basket. For instance, instead of five leeks, we’re down to three. We even have to ask the nut monger to cut a walnut in half for us. Can’t imagine the dirty looks we get when we make these requests. It’s humiliating …. JUST HUMILIATING.

The thing is, you can help … and it won’t cost you a dime. Let me ‘splain. There’s a little thing out there called the internets. Turns out, you can listen to music over the internets through a variety of means. Maybe you have Spotify, or Apple Music, or Amazon Music, or whatever the fuck. Okay, so go to one of these services and look up Big Green – particularly our albums, 2000 Years To Christmas or International House – and play any one (or several) of the tracks. In fact, just build a playlist of both albums and run them on a loop while you cook dinner (and perhaps listen to something else on another device).

Mother lode of sorts

Now, if you’re subscribed to one of these services, the fee for playing our songs is zilch. But we get valuable revenue. It’s an astronomical return. By that I mean, like with a distant star, you need a telescope to see it. I think we get $0.000978 per play on our tracks, but I may be exaggerating. That’s the miracle of the digital marketplace at work, my friends.

Of course, that adds up over the centuries. Who knows – there may come a time in the distant future when we can afford maybe six or seven leeks in out shopping basket.