Three unrelated smotches.
1) I keep seeing Scarlett Johansson on TV, promoting that movie with John Travolta. I met her at the first celeb 24 Hour Plays, in 2001. I was backstage tuning an acoustic guitar, she was waiting for her entrance. I was talking to her in that kind of nervous, inadvertantly hostile way that you speak to a crushable someone. I said, in an attempt at being flirty that I think came out sounding just ambiguous, “I could just whip out ‘Stairway to Heaven’ on you right now.”
Scarlett Johansson said: “So do it. Play ‘Stairway to Heaven’.”
And I then had to admit, mortified, that I was among the tiny minority of acoustic guitar owners in the world who did not know how to play “Stairway to Heaven.”
Have you ever met a celebrity, maybe had a moment’s casual chat with them, and from then on you feel a warm bond of friendship with them when you see them being interviewed on the Today show? That’s how I feel about Scarlett Johansson. Also Griffin Dunne.
2) John Munson’s adopted Chinese daughter is named Jing-Jing. Jing-Jing Munson. I told Munson that rock stardom is inevitable for his daughter.
He must not stand in the way of the imminent, irresistable rise of Jing-Jing Munson’s star.
3) People keep emailing me about potentially re-releasing Smofe and Smang. The last time I was out on tour, people in the CD line would ask if I was re-releasing it, and I told them I was planning on putting it out, along with the souped-up Skittish/Rockity in the Autumn. I feel like a tool now, as having signed to ATO prevents me from putting it out at the moment.
But yes, I plan to re-release Smofe. Eventually.
I feel slightly weird about re-releasing something that originally was a limited edition thing, that folks scrambled to buy before it evaporated. But I get so many emails about it. And it’s selling for, what, about four hundred thousand bucks on eBay now?
I don’t think Smofe is the kind of record you can listen to over and over again–the stage patter becomes tiresome, doesn’t it? Then again, I’ve played multiple shows where people put buckets of shoes onstage, or yell out for jokes. Jokes!
One of my favorite albums of all time is James Brown’s Revolution of the Mind. It’s rife with stage patter–charming the first time, especially in Mr. Brown’s distinguished and inimitable voice, but tiresome on the 508th spin–which I just skip on the old iPod, and revel in that fantastic snare sound.