Tag Archives: Hegemonic Records and Worm Farm

Usual Rubbish

Time off.

2000 Years to Christmas

Hey … did I mention we had a special going? I did? Okay. Well … I won’t mention it again. Just pretend I didn’t say anything. Right, then …. night night.

Oh, hi. Just got off the phone with our manager. Yes, that’s right. It may surprise some of you to know that Big Green has management. Sure, it doesn’t look like we do from the outside. This band has always had a certain quality of randomness to it …. or perhaps an uncertain quality of randomness. Now, I’m not suggesting that that’s some kind of clever management ploy meant to drive buzz and idle speculation about the band …. what will they do next? Nah. It’s more that we simply have the worst management in the history of the music business, hands down.

Now, I don’t mean to sound overly critical. It’s just that we haven’t had a gig in the United States – yay, on the planet Earth, even – in more than 25 years. Our records go nowhere, unless it’s by accident (like our song Volcano Man, which is benefiting from a prolonged case of mistaken identity.). No hits. Not even any misses. Our three albums have performed as what used to be called “drugs on the market”, wanting for promotional investment in addition to being, well, strange. This is the kind of management that can be really discouraging, you know? Then there was the time he told us to wear matching orange Chuck Taylor high tops. God, those things looked stupid … especially on Marvin (my personal robot assistant), who doesn’t even have feet.

Big Green has always had this kind of problem with management, labels (like Hegemonic Records and Worm Farm, Inc.), hangers-on, that sort of thing. Back when we were kids, we had management for a brief time that booked us around the Albany, NY area. Our equipment was trash. I had a broken down Fender Rhodes piano, our PA was from hell – mixed components patched together in a haphazard fashion; a 100-watt QSC amp powering two Cerwin Vega cabinets … and belching smoke while it did it. We also had two Shure tower speakers, which were hands down the worst PA invention since the megaphone Rudy Vallee used to sing through. One time they booked us and another band to play alternate sets, except they had an actual PA system, pumping out a wall of sound while we were soldering patch cords on stage. It was like Loverboy vs. junior high electronics shop class.

So, yeah …. in retrospect, I guess our current management isn’t that bad. I’d rather take all this forced time off than play dozens more of those really lame gigs we used to play, back in the day.

Usual Rubbish

Backyardvarks.

Did you bring a blanket? No? Nah, neither did I. Never think of these things when you’re in a hurry. Fortunately, it’s the middle of the summer, and it’s freaking eighty degrees. So … eff the blanket.

Yeah, I’m sure you expected this. We met our ornery neighbors upstairs in virtual battle – a war of words, let’s say – and they prevailed … because they’re just bone mean. So we have been temporarily expelled from our beloved abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill and have taken up provisional residence in the mill’s backyard. Humiliating, yes, but it’s not the worst kind of humiliation we’ve had to endure. Nothing near as bad as what we experienced on Neptune some years back, nor the depredations of Hegemonic Records and Worm Farm, Inc., our erstwhile corporate record label. Still … not good.

Hey, we’re pushovers – what can I tell you? When neighbors say jump, we jump. When they say run, we jump, mostly because we’re not real good at running. Our encounter with the obnoxious bunch on the third floor did not come to blows, thankfully, but it was contentious enough to convince us that we should spend a few nights in the courtyard with the mansized tuber. If you’re wondering why we didn’t set Marvin (my personal robot assistant) after them, the answer is simple … he’s just too simple to be effective in a situation like that. Though his claws should be registered with the local police department as near-lethal weapons. When he clacks those suckers together, you could literally laugh yourself to death.

Hey, Tubey ... is there room for a few more in that shed?

This could be worse, of course. We can pitch a tent or two, start a little fire, maybe play the banjo. We can roast marshmallows over the flames and toss them, molten, at our enemies. Our mad science advisor Mitch Macaphee can whip up some kind of force field that will keep us safe from predators and bailiffs. (Anti-Lincoln claims he’s being followed by a bail bondsman, but I think he’s forgetting that the 1860s ended more than a century ago.) I’m actually surprised at how easily Mitch is taking this eviction. Typically, he goes ballistic on people long before any dispute ever reaches this level of action. (Not sure, but I suspect he may be taking something to calm his nerves. High strung, these mad scientists.)

For the time being, if you want to reach us, use the comment form on the blog or send your notes to: Big Green, Behind the Potting Shed, Central Courtyard, Abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill, Little Falls, NY. (Or just address it Joe / Potting Shed – I’ll get it.)

Usual Rubbish

Ned-scapades.

Step one: fill the little box with letters. It’s a letter box! Step two, check your work on step one. Step three: press “publish” and watch the blue smoke come out. You are now a “blogger”, Charlie! All you need now are decipherable opinions.

Well, here we are at the mill, still waiting for the next episode of our Podcast THIS IS BIG GREEN to roll off the back of a truck. Late again. Must be short on key ingredient this month. Actually, as I pointed out last week, the main ingredient is work on our parts, which is rare indeed. A jem of great price … that price being the sweat off of our collective brows. Work, work, work … that’s what a podcast is all about. The internet is a slave-driver! Small wonder we chose to outsource its production to some nameless third world country. Working through a social media broker, we have been assured of a good and reliable product, voiced by people who sound exactly like Matt and I, their Indonesian accents just barely detectable … (Oh, what a giveaway!)

Looking forward to hearing how they handle the Ned Trek episode. This one was a challenge – another musical, no less. There are six … maybe seven songs included in the script, all brand new production. Those poor folks in Jakarta have their work cut out for them. (And yes, I’m sure you’ve guessed that our “brokers” are actually our old corporate label, Hegemonic Records and Worm Farm, also known as Hegephonic. They’ve likely got sweatshops on four continents toiling 24/7 to pump out this episode.)

That's the stuff.What have we been doing with all of our free time? Thought you might want to know. Actually, Matt’s been chasing Peregrine falcons around downtown Utica, like the very good fellow he is.  (You can check on his efforts – and even contribute to them, if you like – on the Utica Peregrine Falcon site.) My efforts have been of a more pedestrian nature, actually. I spent the last few weeks working on our new Ned Trek site, posting a few episodes extracted from our podcast, and making it look as ridiculous as possible. Here it is, mobile-ready and set to roll: www.nedtrek.com

So … yeah, that happened. What’s up with you? Let me know. You know how I worry.