Thursday, July 17, 2008

Am I the only one that feels sorry for Jesse Jackson?

For two weeks in a row, everyone has had their panties in a bunch over things Rev. Jackson said when he didn't realize that his mic was live. Poor bastard. Imagine, Jesse Jackson is human. There was a time when the press understood this. They all knew that Jack Kennedy was fucking every skirt he could get his hands on, including Marilyn Monroe, and they kept quiet about it. That was his business. They took care to never photograph FDR in his wheelchair. Can you imagine any of this happening today?

Poor Jesse. When he thought no one was listening, he talked like a real person. Like a black person. Oh, the horror, the horror! Well, of course people are leaping on this as a great hypocracy, because the Reverend Jackson has been one of those that have campaigned against that particular word, creating something called "the N word." Fuck that. Fuck is the F word. Fuck that, too. Words are just fucking words, and trying to ban them just gives them more power.

It used to be an insult to call a gay person "queer." Then gays adopted the word themselves, and took all of the sting out of it, up to the point of having a TV show called "Queer eye for the straight guy." They should do the same with faggot, or fag.

Nigger, please.

Friday, July 4, 2008

Feeling Kind of Pavolvian


I always felt sorry for Pavlov's dog, but thanks to him (or them) we have the word Pavlovian. This, I have realized, is what is paralyzing my musical output now. It's a Pavlovian response.

It's true that I never set out to be rich or famous with my music, and I accomplished both of those goals, I am neither. I worked with a lot of famous people early in my career, and I saw how success was a double-edged sword, and I didn't covet it. Of all of the facets of my musical career, pianist, composer, song writer, my favorite was producing records. It was a perfect way to express myself without having to try to be a teen idol or even compromise myself.

So for years, I was quite content in my obscurity, and always felt lucky that I was able to earn a living doing it.

Something changed along the way. I got poisoned.

Although I worked in pop music, I never thought of money when I was creating, I was doing it because I love pop music. I had to fight to get paid sometimes. A lot of times. The music business is not for the weak of heart. Don King tried to promote concerts for awhile, I was part of them with the Jacksons tour in '81. He later said that he was going back to the boxing world, because the music biz was too tough for him. Imagine that! Think about that for a second. I still am amazed by that.

But I always carried on, because I loved it so much. But now, after all of this time, I am getting worn out. Lately, I have been struggling to get two companies with whom I have been doing business to pay me what is due. Just what they owe me. I've sent emails everyday, I get the runaround, and I'm running out of patience.

You see, I've been doing this for over 25 years. Just trying to get paid. The music I've made in this time has made millions of dollars, but I assure you that I am no millionaire. Just the music I've made with Mamborama has made over a million dollars at least, and I haven't seen but maybe ten percent of that in eight years. And I OWN the recordings! You just can't win in this business.

Insult to injury, people no longer feel the need to buy recordings, as they are easily available to download, so now the public takes my music without compensation as well. It used to be that just the business cheated me.

Maybe now you can understand why at this moment, I have NO desire to create music. None whatsoever. It's a Pavlovian response, I've been abused, and I don't want to go there anymore. It's a shame. I'm no genius, but there have been a lot of people over the years that enjoyed my music and encouraged me.

Am I whining again? I don't know. I think I've just been fucked with too much. Do you like to work for free? If so, come on over and clean my kitchen, it's a mess.