Tag Archives: This Is Big Green

Usual Rubbish

When the hell?

I know what you’re all saying out there. You’re saying, “Where’s my socks?” and “The paper’s late again this morning. Stupid paper carrier!” and “You’ll eat it and like it!” Stuff like that. Am I right?

Squx.Well, right or wrong, I like to think that you’ve been wondering about a couple of things with regard to the band Big Green, denizens of the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill and the alien intelligence behind this skimpy little blog. One is, well, when the hell are we going to release another album? I mean, it’s been nearly 18 months since we put out Cowboy Scat: Songs in the Key of Rick. What the hell are we playing at, anyway? Or maybe you’re uttering that same thought in Swahili. It could be anything!

Then there’s the performance question. I know, I know … we’ve been extremely remiss in this area. Big Green hasn’t performed in front of a terrestrial audience in uncounted thousands of years. Sure, we’ve played in the solar system, which is practically in your neighborhood. You could easily see our performances with the Hubble Space Telescope, and perhaps hear them with a radio telescope. That has been the best we’ve been able to do up to now. Squint hard and you can see us.

Marvin (my personal robot assistant) took it into his little tin head to do some advertising for us, hiring some firm to do smoke signals on Mars. All he managed to do was confuse NASA royally, and make a bunch of astrophysicists scratch their heads like monkeys and throw bones in the air, hoping they’ll turn into futuristic space shuttles. If that’s brand advertising, I’m an astrophysicist’s uncle. And I’m not. So just pretend you didn’t see that puff of smoke on the red planet, friends. Nothing to see here.

The fact is, we will get around to putting out some more music sometime soon. I’m working on posting some of our existing catalog on YouTube. And we’ve got new music, so ultimately it will be out there. Way out there.

Uncategorized

Winter pursuits.

Pass the all-spice. Now the dried currents. Okay, now shake this up. Shake harder! HARDER! That’s good. Okay … now we need five coconuts, cracked like hen’s eggs. Hurry, hurry!

Jebus Christmas. It’s so hard to get good ingredients this time of year. How the hell am I supposed to make Madagascarian ratatouille without five coconuts cracked like hen’s eggs? What the hell are we supposed to eat between now and St. Swithun’s day? Coal dust? Hammer handles? (Actually, they’re pretty close to corn on the cob if you close your eyes … and your mouth.) It’s a bit of an issue.

Aside from working on the next episode of THIS IS BIG GREEN, our podcast, and the various songs contained therein, we do try to keep busy here inside the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill as the snow falls in sheets, covering the rolling farmland of upstate New York like a bedspread. It seems to slow everything down to a crawl this time of year. And yes, that is a lame attempt to blame the lateness of our first-of-2015 podcast episode on the weather or some other factor beyond our control. Let’s be honest: we’re freaking useless. But loveable, I like to think.

Yeah, that's the stuff.Tonight Matt and I will return to tracking the new songs we’ve been working on these long, frigid winter weeks. Mostly working on vocals now, though that effort often descends into strange hooting sounds and choruses of background harmonies that incorporate the words “banana boat” in some fashion. I had the temerity to attempt a guitar part the other day … an ELECTRIC guitar part … but thought better of it. Mostly confining myself to keys lately. House keys … and car keys. Now where did I leave that kazoo … ?

Apologies if I seem scattered this week. So much to do, so little time.  Then there’s the ratatouille and the recently discovered planet NASA’s been talking about. We’re considering sending Marvin (my personal robot assistant) up on a scouting missions to see if the new world contains any potential listeners. Could be why he’s been making himself scarce these last few days. COWARD!

Usual Rubbish

What the pod?

Okay, here’s a good name for a band (I know it’s good because someone’s using it): Teenage Brain. Here’s another: The Canabinoids. Well, there’s my day’s work. Man, I’m exhausted!

Yes, I’m sure there are some of you out there – and you know who you are – who think that we of Big Green sit around our abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill all day and do next to nothing. The fact is, nothing could be further from the truth. We work our fingers to the bone every day, trying to think of stupid shit to say the next time someone interviews us, which could be any minute (though in actuality, it hasn’t happened in about two decades). We set a very high standard for stupidity; not talking garden variety here. Our comments are expected to be wildly off the mark, not just a little strange.

And there are other things occupying our time, such as the January podcast … which is now certain to be the February podcast. All I can say is, mea culpa. (That’s all the Latin I know.) Our podcast production process (or PPP) has become much more complicated in recent months, mostly due to our own highly exacting standards. Now every other Ned Trek episode has to come complete with a full complement of new songs written specifically for the occasion, produced to the best of our ability, and inserted into that otherwise pointless show. Time consuming stuff, yes. The kind that makes January into February.

It's a good name, anywayThis time out we have, let’s see …. six new songs, maybe? I’ve lost count. It’s become this blur of recording parts onto different projects, a piano here, a horn section there, a beery-sounding horse voice on this one, some fucked-up swabbies on that one. That’s the only way I know how to work – just keep chipping away at the mammoth rock until it looks a hell of a lot more like Lincoln. That’s how Mount Rushmore was made. That and driving native people off the land (we don’t include that in our creative process).

So, I don’t know … look for our new podcast episode in the coming weeks. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to my couch.