FINALLY (UPDATED)

Two (Deux! Zwei! Due! Dos! Ni!) new songs are up at Area 52. Under The Subway is a breezy little Christmas ditty about everyday apocalypses and salvation therefrom.

Also, there is the F word in it, in a place where it makes two internal rhymes and an alliterative declaration. I can't remove it even if I wanted to. Which, as it happens, I don't.

I'm mixing a version tomorrow with the offending word bleeped out for radio play (don't want the few deejays who play my stuff on air to get fired, because that would be, what's the word, oh right, counterproductive), oh and the bass will be in tune at the end. I have the technology, and I hear that shit helps, though I like the cacaphony at the end so maybe I'll leave it be. Funk as puck, brother. Bite my big shorts. So's yer ma. Epatez, little queen bee. Booyah.

And so on.

The other song, a Leonard-Cohen-meets-George-Thorogood thing called Tanzania, went up tonight too. L'Chaim, y'all.

Let me know what you think.

Oh, one more thing. I know this place has become a lame place for me to vent about the rigors of my recording schedule and the obstacles in the way of same, and I'm goshdarn sorry about that. But the election ain't for another six and a half months, Trivia and hipsterfucker parties won't reenter my life until next weekend and then only sparingly, and I got lots of other excuses, many of them possibly valid, for being so single-minded.

If I didn't love you, would I be humiliating myself like this, week in and week out, in front of you?

No, I wouldn't. So take your lovin' like a grownup, even if'n you ain't.

Good night and sleep well.