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Sep 29, 06 10:39 AM

Refrain of the Record-Making Process, with Apologies to S. Sundiata.


(pic by Nillazilla)

Is it soup yet? Is it soup yet? Is it soup yet? Is it soup yet? Is it soup yet? Is it soup yet? Is it soup yet? Is it soup yet? Is it soup yet? Is it soup yet? Is it soup yet? Is it soup yet? Is it soup yet? Is it soup yet? Is it soup yet? Is it soup yet? Is it soup yet? Is it soup yet? Is it soup yet? Is it soup yet? Is it soup yet? Is it soup yet? Is it soup yet? Is it soup yet? Is it soup yet? Is it soup yet? Is it soup yet? Is it soup yet? Is it soup yet? Is it soup yet? Is it soup yet? Is it soup yet? Is it soup yet?

Posted by Mike at 10:39 AM

Sep 27, 06 12:11 PM



(pic stolen from listener gloryglorycatchacory)

If there's anything I've learned making records, it's that tambourine never makes anything sound worse.

Posted by Mike at 12:11 PM

Refreshing Self-Awareness of Thai Junta.


(Image by the Independent's [S.F.] Misha Vladmirsky)

From the B.B.C.:

Thailand's coup leaders have banned go-go dancers from performing for troops on the streets of Bangkok, fearing soldiers may be distracted.

"We have to maintain the seriousness of the coup," a military spokesman said.

Posted by Mike at 10:33 AM

A Rodent Dancing to My Cover of 'The Gambler.'


(another ganked from gloryglorycatchacory)

A Rodent Dances to My Cover of "The Gambler."

Posted by Mike at 9:38 AM

Sep 20, 06 09:16 AM

Have I Neglected to Mention?


(photo ganked from listener Spage)

We're all back in Minneapolis, cutting a few more tunes, and a re-cut of "27 Jennifers." We have rented a Chevy Aveo, and Kirby and Pete have been spending their evenings bowling with their friend Bastille.

Posted by Mike at 9:16 AM

Goodbye Burma; Hello, Berlin.


(this also ganked from Spage)

It hit me like a ton of bricks the other day that I was obsessed with speaking German, and Germany, and yet I'm spending December in Burma? I'll get to Burma eventually. I called United, cancelled my flight to Bangkok, got my frequent flier miles back, then managed to blag a business class ticket via Warsaw (hard to get a Christmastime ticket using miles this this late in the year).

Part of the Burma thing came from a determination made six years ago, the last time I was in Cambodia, that I would save up enough miles to afford my own business class ticket to Bangkok. I felt obligated to a six-year-old decision despite the fact that my fascinations had moved on.

Strangely, later on the same day I cancelled the ticket, tanks were rolling in the streets of Bangkok; a military coup.

Two weeks in the middle of Europe in the dead of winter. Itinerary (so I'm thinking at this moment): Berlin, Vienna, Leipzig, Munich. Riding trains, writing in notebooks, drinking coffee from very small cups. Also: currywurst. Sounds like a party to me.

Posted by Mike at 8:33 AM

Process of Distillation.


(another by Spage)

I realized that all the frantic writing that I did over the past month, trying to come up with songs for this session, resulted in just a few songs. I had no idea until I got here, into the studio, and looked at the list.

I think I have all the songs that I need. But I feel like I spent the Summer in a frenzy of writing. Get up early, make coffee, start messing around with the guitar; working until noonish when that morning energy began to wane, walk around Prospect Park. Keep myself distracted until the early evening, when I would get another jolt of creativity, fool around with words and melodies for a few more hours.

Then, at night, I would lay in bed with Garcia Marquez novels and a pen and underline words that I liked. I spent a couple years' worth of journals on the last batch of songs, so I was trying to write with a depleted supply. I would read and underline, and the next day I would write them down in mixed up order on legal paper (kind of a lo-fi cut-up style) and refer to them when I needed lyrics to plug into the melodies.

I'm surprised I don't have more. I guess the songs I have are just really distilled.

Posted by Mike at 6:48 AM

Sep 17, 06 02:15 PM

Do Girls Buy Rock Shirts?

mark husson 2.jpg

(Pix of the Denver gig ganked from listener Mark Husson)

Girls: do you buy shirts with names of rock bands on the front?

My haircutter Mimi was lobbying me about this yesterday. Saying that the girl shirts bands sell are generally lousy, and that mine, well, really haven't been very good at all of late.

She said she bought a Dixie Chicks shirt recently, however, and it was cut fabulously. But that's natural, right? Girls ought to make good shirts for girls.

OK, women: I ask you to do me a favor: send me pictures of your band shirts. Would you please? I'm totally serious. Preferably pictures of you wearing the shirts.

(I realize this sounds mildly suggestive. Dear Mike's girlfriend: this is not mildly suggestive.)

Just the ones you bought and that you love! Not, like, the ones your boyfriend gave you and you sleep in. And if there's a bunch of shirts you dig, send multiple photos, would you?

Seriously, it would be awesome. I want to do well by girls. I'm:

md (at) mikedoughty (dot) com

mark husson 1.jpg

Posted by Mike at 2:15 PM

Sep 8, 06 02:20 PM

Kirby and I Have Landed in Denver.


Tonight's show at the Soiled Dove. I looked it up online to try and it from the hotel, there are like nine branches of the Soiled Dove here; I haven't figured out which one we're playing yet.

I thought "soiled dove" sounded dirty, so I looked it up. Turns out it's an Old West term for a hi class whore.

Kirby is looking fine, with new ludicrous but charming hair. Looking forward to listening to him every night.

I got recognized (unironically!) at Starbucks this morning.

Posted by Mike at 2:20 PM

Sep 3, 06 09:28 AM

Fearmongering Perhaps Best Left to Cable News.


I just woke up and CBS News straightfacedly reported that al-Qaeda released a video exhorting Americans to convert to Islam. I'm sure CNN and Fox News are all up in this by now, so my worry here is unoriginal, but just the other day I heard that bin Laden was criticized harshly by other Islamists after 9/11; you're not supposed to murder infidels without first giving them the option of converting to Islam.

To me the slice of the video CBS showed looked weirdly lo-fi Christian network-ish, with a pleasant American-born terrorist named Adam recommending Muhammad, and a mild al Zawahiri endorsing Adam's endorsement; very benign and inoffensive and unlike the work of murderous sociopaths.

Posted by Mike at 9:28 AM

Sep 1, 06 10:51 AM

Is It Really September?


I'm unprepared.

Posted by Mike at 10:51 AM

Coffee Soluble.


I've been banging my forehead against a couple of tunes for a week or so--trying to craft a key chorus lyric for one, trying to just unlock a structural gimmick for another--went up to my soothing Connecticut friend's place for a couple days to avoid it, then laid around the house for a couple of days, poking at the songs occasionally and despairing.

Then I get up this morning and within forty minutes of my first cup of coffee I've unlocked them both.

Posted by Mike at 10:46 AM

Voice Sacks Christgau = Voice Truly Dead At Last (Blog About N.Y. Newspapers That Will Be Baffling Perhaps Even to Most N.Y.-Ers).


I've snarked at him plenty, but ultimately much respect.

Funny that my old alma mater, the NYPress, has been able to maintain
its pose--that of the drunken self-destructor--longer than the Voice's progressive-avenger pose. Not that the Press is vital in the least anymore. Both papers lost the people that justified/created those personas years ago.

New York is the city of Time Out. I never would've thought so when it debuted. It seemed so laughably gee-whiz, I thought they'd fold in a month. But New York is like that now. (I really, really don't want to be the "I miss the rats on Rivington Street" guy, OK?) The children move here for fantasies of Sex and the City, expensive shoes and bottle-service clubs, not squats and art and rock and roll.

And I, and I think everybody else, goes looking for their drunken self-destructors and progressive avengers out in the blogosphere. I pass the street corner boxes that distribute the Voice and the Press, and man, they look sad. Moribund.

Posted by Mike at 10:34 AM



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