Tag Archives: Why Not Call It George?

What did YOU do on YOUR Summer Vacation, bruh?

The dog days are upon us, once again. Hot as a motherfucker up here in Central New York. It makes me think of all those New Yorkers who moved down to Florida when they retired – so many that they took ten electoral college votes with them. If they had just waited a few years, sweltering Florida weather would have found them right the fuck here. The more you know.

So, how did you spend your summer? Working like a dog? Vacationing? Here at Big Green, we know it’s none of our business and that we have no right to even ask. The fact that we did, indeed, ask is just more evidence of our transgressive nature as a band from the alternative rock era. I mean, just look at that banner image from 1992 – DRIPPING with attitude. What a bunch of fuckers. (If you want to see the action figures in action, go to our Videos page and scroll down to “I Hate Your Face” or “Why Not Call It George“.)

Anyway, the least we can do – or, speaking for myself, the least I can do – is tell you what I did over the summer. Sure, you’re not asking, but again, I remind you, as a transgressive rocker that presents no real obstacle. And the chef’s kiss of my 90s arrogance is that I will tell you all about, and then say, “You’re welcome”. Ouch, right? Why couldn’t we have been one of those ironic hipster bands?

The Basement Tapes

Okay, so I can’t speak to what Matt Perry did with his summer. Suffice to say, it had a lot to do with chasing birds and feeding beavers . (And no, those are NOT euphemisms for sexual adventures. You think with that brain?) Much of my time was taken up much less productively with a project that involves unearthing archival recordings tracked many years ago, in a galaxy far, far away.

Let me start at the beginning. Our erstwhile drummer (and current brother-in-law) John White brought over a box of reel-to-reel tapes this past Spring, all of which were unlabeled, kind of grimy, and not in the greatest condition. We suspected some may be recordings of my late brother Mark, who came up as a classical pianist from about age 7, but it was hard to know because (wait for it) I didn’t have a reel deck.

Big Green's new state of the art Akai reel to reel stereo tape recorder. His master's voice!

I won’t bore you with the details, but over the Spring months I tried to procure an old-school stereo tape recorder. I ordered one off of Reverb.com, listed as “very good” condition, and it didn’t work. I ordered a second one from a different vendor – THAT one didn’t work. Finally, I made my way out to a used electronics shop outside of Syracuse and bought an Akai deck that did what it was manufactured to do – play back old reel tapes.

Country to Chopin to … Kermit?

What was on those old tapes? Well, some recordings of Mark as a young pianist, playing short classical and popular pieces. There was one tape that I believe was a dupe of a recording he did at Syracuse University in 1969 or so, playing Chopin’s ballade no 4 in F minor, opus 52 – beautifully, I might add. (A bit like Rubenstein played it.) There was also a recording of a jazz concert that featured him performing in what sounded like a sextet, likely in the mid to late 1970s – I have no idea who the other musicians were or where they were playing. Pretty amazing tape. Those are the highlights.

Then there was some oddball stuff, like a recording of a local pop country singer named Bob O’Donnell singing a couple of numbers; a jam tape of the upstate New York rock band called Sky Church, which Mark played with (though he wasn’t on the recording); and some random stuff from old time television, like Kermit the Frog’s Rubber Ducky song. (Seriously.)

More where that came from

Right, so the old tapes in the cardboard box are not the only reel-to-reel recording I have on hand. Now that I’ve gone through all of them, I’ve started to listen back to our more well-preserved archive tapes, and I’m finding some strange stuff – like recordings of me and Matt jamming in our parents’ living room, Matt playing some of his original guitar instrumental pieces from 1980-81, and other stuff I was only vaguely aware of.

I suspect some of the better bits will see the light of day – I’m digitizing everything that’s even marginally listenable, and will post stuff as seems appropriate. Call it a vacation. I’m guessing we’ll get back to recording new Big Green material this Fall, depending on Matt’s availability. But for right now, we’re sticking with the lazy man projects.

What did you do over the summer? Again, though we have zero right to that information, you can let us know at [email protected] or in the comments.

Oh, yeah … YOU’RE WELCOME.

Getting a good-ISH start on another year

2000 Years to Christmas

Oh, damn, I did it again. Can’t stop writing 2021 when I mean 2022. It’s like I’m trying to go back in time. And why the hell would ANYONE want to go back to 2021? I mean, aside from Mitch Macaphee?

Yeah, Mitch had a pretty good year last year. He made some stuff blow up real good. The rest of us, however … not so much. We made things blow up, but not intentionally. And I have to say, this drafty old abandoned hammer mill is no place to spend January. If we were as rich as … well, as pretty much any other band, we could just pick this place up, put it on a flatbed, and move it someplace warm. But no how, my friends, no freaking how.

Random ways to stay warm

Okay, so when the heat is not so hot, how do you keep from turning into a band-cicle? Well, there are ways. One is to play your damn instruments. That’s what we do typically when the iceman calleth. I start banging on my acoustic guitar, beating the living shit out of it with my pick-less paw, raising callouses and annoying the neighbors with my hollering. (If you want to know what THAT sounds like, give my recent nano concerts a listen. )

Sometimes when it gets particularly frosty, I’ll play covers, like old Neil Young songs or numbers by Elvis Costello, Stones, Jethro Tull, etc. Some of it’s a little hard to render on a solo acoustic guitar, but I don’t let THAT stop me. What I can’t do is a credible version of Matt’s song Why Not Call It George, which we used to do with the full band. Our guitar player Jeremy Shaw used to do a volcanic solo on that song – holy cats! If that doesn’t warm you up, I don’t know what will.

I'm frozen solid

Through the trackless wastes

Now, as everybody knows, January is a very quiet time for bands here in upstate New York. That’s always been the way, since grand-daddy was knee-high to a grasshopper’s grandaddy. Of course, now it’s even worse with COVID, though that doesn’t stop some people from going out and making it rain in a club somewhere. That’s fine, guys … just don’t breathe while you’re there and you’ll be fine.

We of Big Green tend to prefer our solitude. And who the hell needs the money, right? I mean, besides us? We can always ask Marvin (my personal robot assistant) to manufacture some cash for us. He’s got one of those inkjet printers built into his ass. (Not literally his ass, you understand – just a figure of speech.) And if he just refrains from putting Art Linkletter in the president hole of the bills, someone might actually accept them as legal tender. (Hope so – it’s a long slog to Spring.)

Extraordinary means

Now, one of the benefits of having a mad science advisor is that, when you can’t afford to run the central heat, he or she can come up with some technical solution that will keep you from freezing to death. Yesterday Mitch Macaphee somehow managed to build a fire in the forge room of the mill. Only it wasn’t something impressive, like a flame generated by a concentrated tachyon beam. He literally just pulled beams out of the mill roof and threw them in the fire.

What a freaking luddite! I expect some kind of miracle cure to our hypothermia, not burning the house down one plank at a time!

Taking the words WAY too literally.

2000 Years to Christmas

Jesus, man … another song about geoscience? Just wait until Mitch gets his hands on that. What’s the topic this time – gravitation? I guess he’s already fucked with that sufficiently. Still, I worry.

Yeah, that’s right. No one wants to see your friends in Big Green just moping around the abandoned hammer mill like a bunch of sad sacks, bickering with one another. So we make an extra effort to smile when we get visitors. And if we’re not in the mood, we get Marvin (my personal robot assistant) to do it for us. No, he doesn’t have anything like what you might call a mouth, but he’s got some grill work to show, and that will do in a pinch.

What’s the beef? Nothing serious. Just interrogating my illustrious brother Matt about the subject matter of his recent songwriting. Some of you may recall that his lyrics have spawned some trouble in the past. No, they’re not controversial or obscene in any way, but they do give Mitch Macaphee, our mad science advisor, some bad ideas. And he tends to take our song lyrics very literally.

The Question of George

A couple of years ago it was Matt’s song “Why Not Call It George?”, the lyric for which has always sounded to me, in part, like a bulleted list of mad-man items:

Gravity can: (a) make your mind flow out from your tongue; (b) take your eyes downtown to see the nuns all bunched up on the tiles; (c) pull your lips back from your smile

(Hear it yourself: Check out our live version of the song on our YouTube channel.)

Parts of that song made Mitch think he could (dare I say it?) rule … the world! Or at least reverse continental drift and reclaim Pangaea. I got nervous when he started spending months at a time in the lab … and the ground started shaking. Not. good.

This doesn't seem like such a good idea.

Eruption Imminent!

Then there was “Volcano Man”, a track from our 2nd album, International House. Mitch started obsessing over that one as well. You know how grade school kids sometimes build those baking soda volcanoes for school projects? Well, that’s a miniature version of what we had to deal with around this dump. Of course, Mitch had to open a vent straight down to the Earth’s molten caramel center, just so that the ‘cano was authentic. He was doing it with an upside-down rocket, Crack In The World style. What a mess!

Anyhow, I’ve tried to encourage Matt to write songs about less volatile things. You know, like …. butterflies, or cobblestones, or vegetable stew. Maybe you’ve got some suggestions that don’t suck (like these do).