jbowesmusic: the blog

I've Been Neglectful...

2009-04-09T15:51:00.004-04:00

And that sucks. Unfortunately, though, life has gotten in the way. I haven't been able to do much blogging lately, and when I've had the time it's only been for short form stuff (which is what I have a tumblr for). But hey, I'll throw this one out there just so that I can feel a bit better about myself. It's about how my day is currently on a downhill slope.

7:00 wake up time (OK, fine, I was lazy today and stumbled out of bed around 7:30). Made coffee, ate breakfast, realized I didn't have time to get a shower in because I had to get to the media center before class.

8:00, leave for class forgetting how light traffic is until after 8:30 and arrive at school at 8:10. Print out extra credit assignment at the media center, kill time by studying a bit more, go to class.

9:00, ace the everloving shit out of my Music Copyrighting and Publishing midterm. Go back to the media center to check out movies, knowing I can keep them over Spring Break.

11:00, play soccer with a bunch of guys from class. Do pretty well and get a tan in the process.

1:30, leave soccer to go to my appointment at the Volkswagen dealership to get my headlights/brake lights fixed. Find out I need a new primary cooling fan ($500) and a new timing belt, and that they only do the timing belt as a package with everything that's run by the timing belt ($900). The timing belt can't wait, as apparently you're supposed to get it changed out at 60,000 miles. No one ever told me, so I've gotten an extra 9,000 miles out of this one.

The only good news is that they're doing my headlights and brake lights for free, washing and waxing my car, and paying for my rental car for the day, saving me about $200. Big ups to Royal Volkswagen/David Maus Volkswagen North for that one.

Love Letter to My Guitar

2009-03-06T11:07:00.003-05:00

I just wrote a love letter to my guitar over at my Tumblr page. If you haven't been there, please check it out. I'm quite happy with how everything came out. It was a spur of the moment thing, but it's easy to write when it's about something I love.

Time Flies

2009-03-05T23:38:00.003-05:00

A few days ago, I started writing a post on how time seems to be flying at a rate much faster than normal. I just now got the time to go back and finish it and realized that it was last saved 2/25/09. That's not a few days, that's over a week. Time really is flying these days.

I don't know what the hell is causing it, but it seems like it's not going to stop any time soon. Between classes, the gym, my music and the girl, I'm lucky to get a moment's rest sometimes. In fact, if you were to tell me that it was June I'd probably believe you for half a second.

I'm well aware that life moves exponentially faster the closer you get to the end of the journey. I remember being a kid and thinking that summer would NEVER come back around again. Now I don't get summers off anymore and try to make due with my one day weekends. I used to think that it would be eons before I reached any of the cool birthdays (the ones that come with new rights and responsibilities), yet here I am with my 21st coming straight at me. So much for the highly anticipatory countdown.

The latter has me thinking, though. After 21, you don't get many more cool birthdays. Sure, I can rent a car without having to get mandatory insurance in a few more years. I can also go into a mini-panic when I hit 30 and realize that I'm that much closer to fucked. But that's still fun and games. What happens at 40? "Happy Birthday." the proctologist says as he snaps on a glove, "Now bend over." Or what about 50? "Happy Birthday." says the college of my child's choice, "Now bend over." And 65? It used to be, "Happy Birthday! Here's some of that money back you've been paying us for the last almost 50 years." Now they say, "Happy Birthday! But the well's dry." as you hear that familiar snap of the rubber glove.

So I think it's very appropriate to sit back and enjoy this one. To not just have one day of celebration, but to drag it out as long as humanly fucking possible. From my birthday until the end of spring break, my weekends are going to be when I play hard as a reward for all the hard work I've put in, and for the all hard work I'm going to put in. With all apologies to my liver, I'm going to drink like I'm 17 again. May God help us all.

One Year...And Counting

2009-03-05T22:19:00.003-05:00

It's been one year since I quit smoking cigarettes.

I don't remember the exact date, since I wasn't even sure it was for good at the time. It could've been one year yesterday, it could be one year tomorrow, but I know it was the first week of March. I'd been cutting back for months, going from almost a pack a day down to less than half a pack a day (which truth be told was just torture and didn't make quitting any easier). I'd also tried to quit a handful of times before, but never made it past a week. Finally I realized that I was doing more harm than good, both to my body and my mind, as well as my friendships which were becoming strained due to my stress.

I decided to put my will power into action. The same will power which had helped me drop 50 pounds on two separate occasions (in about 3-4 months both times) could surely help me break the demon spell of nicotine. As it turns out, I was right. It also was one of the most trying times of my life. It's a very big part of why I no longer even think of messing with addictive substances, no matter how alluring they may be. There's no way I ever want to go through any type of withdrawal again.

I guess I'm lucky I didn't start smoking as early as some of my friends. Sure I smoked socially towards the last two years of my high school life, but I didn't become a "smoker" until I was of legal age. In a way I'm sure that made things easier, but I assure you it was in no way easy.

The commercials about learning to do things without smoking are right. You don't realize it until you quit, but every smoker has a routine. Whether it's before or after breakfast, or even before you get out of bed, every smoker has a routine for their first smoke of the day. Then there are the people who light up every time they get into a car, just out of habit. Everyone I know who smokes absolutely has to light up after a meal, and we all know the cliche about smoking after sex. It's kind of funny when you think about it, but it's also kind of sad. Many people stay addicted because it's easier. Who wants to re-learn their entire life?

Luckily, through the support of friends and family I was able to change things. Cold turkey, no less. It's not the way to go for everyone, but it's the way I had to do it. I'm glad, too. It made me a stronger person and made me realize we're all more capable than we believe we are.

If anyone reads this and ever wants to talk about quitting, whether it's advice or just someone to bitch about it to, just let me know. I'm not going to sit here and say I don't miss it from time to time, I'm not going to say it got easier after a couple weeks or a couple months, but I will say that I don't miss it nearly enough to start again and that it definitely gets easier as time goes on. Sometimes I forget I was a smoker. It doesn't seem like me anymore, at least not the me that I recognize. That's the most beautiful sentence I've read back to myself in a while. Because it's not me anymore, because it doesn't have to be ever again, and because as long as I have my way...it won't be.

In addition, here's a link to a smoking cessation timeline, which shows how your body reverts back to normal after quitting.

P.S.: There are going to be certain people who stumble upon this who didn't know this about me. I realize I was very good at hiding this from you and that you never would've known if you hadn't read this. I'm not sorry for smoking, but I'm sorry for not being upfront about it, and I'm sorry for the lies since then.

-Jordan

Pleasantly Surprised

2009-03-02T23:52:00.003-05:00

That's the Fender Road Worn Stratocaster. In theory, I should hate it. I'm a purist who believes that both you and your guitar should earn your own scars. What fun is having a banged up guitar if you can't use it to tell old war stories?

"You see that one? It was the end of a set at this little dive in Nashville and my strap broke. Damned thing hit the stage like a ton of bricks, but hand to God not one person thought it wasn't just a tribute to Stevie. The whole place went nuts. I didn't have to buy a drink all night."

There's just something so fake about a guitar made to look like it's been loved hard by someone trying to pay it back for all the callouses it's caused. The kind of guitar that looks like it would be sitting in a stand at home while you played with some pretty, new thing if it just didn't sound so damn good. And therein lies the problem.

The Road Worn series guitar sounds great. As cool as it looks, it feels 100 times better. Light and smooth, it was easily the best feeling Strat I played the other day (and I must've played at least 10). I picked it up out of curiosity. The you've-got-to-be-kidding-me curiosity that always ends up killing the cat. It only got worse when I saw the dreaded "Made in Mexico" stamped on the headstock. So I decided to see what was so special that someone would pay $200 more for a Mexican made, beat up guitar when they could just buy a new American made one and wear it out themselves.

It instantly impressed me the moment I plugged in. Lightweight and thin, it played extremely smooth and the neck was ridiculously fast. The thing handles like a sports car, and might even attract more women than one if you're seen with it in public. So remember, don't judge a guitar by its pick guard. You never know what lies inside.

Note: I don't know how this turned into a review rather than a blog post, but hey, Fender, if you're reading this: feel free to send me one. It'd sound amazing coming through my '70s Vibrolux Reverb amp.

Of Rose Colored Glasses and Fresh Starts

2009-02-23T08:54:00.006-05:00

I came to a sad, sad realization this weekend: sometimes people change, and sometimes people don't change at all, you just stop seeing them through the rose colored glasses you used to. As much as I hate to admit it, I've been known to ignore the glaringly obvious because I just didn't want to see it or deal with it. Due to my firsthand knowledge of the subject, I've written a short story, presented here for your enjoyment:

There are certain people in life that you have a connection with that you just can't explain. No one on the outside really gets it and to try to put it into words would only cheapen what you have. You don't know why or how it happened, but you know better than to question it and to just enjoy the ride. Unfortunately, as with every roller coaster, it always comes to an end sooner than you'd like. Whether because of one person's actions or due to circumstances completely beyond their control, something happens. Usually this something is known as life, which has a funny way of reminding you that, ultimately, you don't call the shots around here. While it's important to have an internal locus of control, there's a certain point where you're essentially fighting fate and no matter what you want, it's just not meant to be.

In this particular instance, though, the end was never the end. Try as they might, neither of them could stay away for good and they knew it, or at least she did. As it turns out, that last part wound up being the final straw for him. Realizing that someone thinks they can come and go as they please and that you'll always be there when they return, regardless of what they do in the meantime, isn't a pleasant feeling. At least, I couldn't imagine it to be one. Fully aware that everything happens for a reason, one would like to believe that if the two of them were to drift apart again it would be because the universe found it funny, not because they were being taken for granted...again.

If a day came, though, when it came to light that life had kept it's hands off this one; that it was all the doing of the other, what would he do? He could sit and wait patiently like usual, only moving on when it became apparent that nothing he could do would be of any use. He could get on with life while keeping an open mind and an open eye for signs that it was time for another go around on the twisted carousel the two of them had built over the years. He could even do his best to forget her name, embarking on the same self-destructive path that has helped men cope for hundreds of years. However, this time, the most attractive option he could come up with was also the most unlike him.

You see, the previously mentioned rose colored glasses weren't the most comfortable things in the world. The shifted around occasionally, offering glimpses of what really stood in front of him. They were heavy as well, and it was weary work some days just to keep his head up because of them. Noticing how smudged they'd become over time, he took them off for a cleaning. Carefully, but forcefully, he rubbed at them with his shirt tail, wishing in vain the dirt would come off. Then something strange happened. He saw how much vivid the world looked without the shade of pink he'd become so accustomed to. Sure, not everything was pleasant anymore, but it was all so clear now. It then occurred to him that this was life. He liked it.

What he did next shocked even himself. He threw the glasses to the ground, and with one swift, decisive stomp of his heel rendered them useless. A thousand razor sharp pieces of glass that would do less harm in this incarnation than their previous one. Taking a deep breath, he sighed. It was one of relief, with a hint of uncertainty. Healthy optimism filled his mind the same way his eyes soaked up the newness of the sky and his lungs enjoyed the suddenly pure air. It was then that he realized that everything truly does happen for a reason and that he was going to be just fine.

As bad of a feeling as his earlier realization was, this was the polar opposite. Or so I'd imagine. After all, this is just a work of fiction, right?

Stand By

2009-02-23T00:39:00.002-05:00

I know it seems a little redundant to say yet again that there's new material coming, but I really do mean it. I'm in desperate need of sleep and it'll help me to collect my thoughts first, but there's a post forthcoming as soon as I can get the words together in the AM. Stay tuned.

Happy

2009-02-21T20:19:00.003-05:00

I hope that you're happy

When you're in his arms

And I've never met him

But I'm sure he has his charms

I hope that you're happy

When you're in his bed

Even if I'm never happy

'Cause you're always in my head

I hope that you're happy

You know I do

I hope that you're happy

It's no longer me and you

I hope that you're happy

Now that my heart is in repair

'Cause I am not alright

Or even close to getting there

And I hope that you're happy

When you think of what we had

I hope that you're happy

With all our good times gone bad

So I hope that you're happy

That this is your last track

And I hope that you're happy

'Cause I'm never coming back

My Apologies

2009-02-21T13:17:00.002-05:00

I know I probably don't have any people who regularly check this yet, but I still feel bad for being somewhat neglectful the past few days. I promise I'll put more stuff up very soon, both old and new. No, I haven't been cheating on this blog with another one, I've just been busy. True, I did start a tumblr page, but that's for entirely different reasons than the blog. One, it's a nice, simple format for quotes and pictures that have nothing to do with my music. Two, I'm a glutton for punishment and my time wasn't spread thin enough for my liking. So really, it's not you...it's me. Things will be back to full speed soon, though. Weekends are when I shine.

The Rebuttal, Part I

2009-02-17T17:42:00.008-05:00

Unfortunately, this story doesn't have a happy ending. After leaving school to pursue dreams of stardom in Manhattan, she fell victim to a self-proclaimed visionary who said he could make her a fashion icon if she agreed to appear in his "art films". Following a split with the director over payment issues, her addiction to a cocktail of amphetamines worsened and she continued to support her habit by being passed around SoHo like bad fashion advice between jealous bitches. This is the last known photo:

Vengeance

2009-02-17T02:35:00.003-05:00

Sometimes not knowing what's coming is the worst part. This is not one of those times.

A New Chapter?

2009-02-15T15:48:00.003-05:00

Sometimes it's hard to tell if you're about to start writing a new chapter in the book that is your life. What if what you think is the start of something new is really just the page break before another paragraph destined to fill your life with more of the same? What kind of newness or change does it take?

Sometimes it's obvious you're not telling the same story you're used to. A new school, a new job, a new city; those are all sure signs you're in for something different. What about when life decides to take a subtle approach, though? Life-changing events aren't always broadcast on CNN.

Last night I played in front of total strangers for the first time in about a year and a half, even longer if you factor in the number of people. It was different this time, however. Last time, I was pretty much a nervous wreck. I never opened up musically or socially and only did what I had to do so I could hurry up and get off the stage. Don't get me wrong, I had an absolute blast. Playing in front of a crowd is the biggest rush you can get that doesn't come with a complimentary chemical addiction. It's amazing to think how much of a different person I was then. Last night was the polar opposite of that. I branched out musically, playing both rhythm and lead licks, smiled, made eye contact. I even bantered with the drunks at the bar (thanks again for the beer!).

I'd never jammed with Paul before, and we only got about an hour to go over the basics before we had to perform, and yet something clicked. The compliments, and tips, kept coming all night long. It's always cool when you can vibe with someone on that level. I can't wait to see where we can take things with some more practice, and it looks like I'll get the chance to find out. The restaurant asked us to do one night a week starting in about a month, which we'll get paid for in more than just tips and food. In fact, because of the response last night, we might see if we can get regular nights elsewhere around town. I've often complained about the hectic nature of my schedule and the annoyingly limited personal life that goes along with it, but you'll never hear me utter the words, "Another damn show?!?".

So back to my original question: is this the start of a new chapter? How many pages will it last and how far does the story go? As with most things in life, only time will tell, but I haven't been this excited about what possibilities the unknown holds in a while. I promise I'll keep everyone posted. Hell, my music career might depend on my ability to spread the word as far as I can.

But as I write this, the clouds are dispersing to reveal what looks like a nice afternoon to go explore. Until next time...

Where Even The Winners Are Losers

2009-02-14T01:50:00.002-05:00

Apparently there's about to be a blog war. The title of this post pretty much sums up my feelings on internet fights (I decided to forego the Special Olympics joke in the name of tact), but if a group of people want to instigate their own virtual mugging, who am I to stop them?

Now, I'm not afraid to get my hands dirty, but I'd rather save the mudslinging for when all other options have been explored (for instance, I'm definitely not going to tell you one of them once wore an outfit consisting of three separate pieces of denim. What's it like being married to the President and CEO of Levi Strauss?). Instead, I'm going to continue to steadily put up quality content. It's one against four here, but knowing my competition, I like my odds.

Be sure to stay tuned, this could get interesting in a hurry. Or, y'know, be a complete waste of time. Ah, screw it, I wasn't planning on being productive this weekend anyway.

Inspiration Strikes

2009-02-13T17:10:00.002-05:00

Inspiration often strikes at the most random of times and in the most random of places. I'd been having trouble writing an assignment for school. This afternoon I decided to head over to the pool so that even if I couldn't conquer my writer's block, I could at least get some color. Life, being the funny thing that it is, decided not only to grant me with the words to knock out the paper in no time, but also with the inspiration for two new songs.

Hard telling if I'll ever be able to use the lyrics, but my God did it feel good to write out again. It may not have flowed quite as freely as I'm used to, but to see new life leave my pen was a nice treat on an otherwise "blah" day. Consider my day turned around and my faith in the wonders of change reaffirmed.

Whether you're going about your normal day in a new way, or doing unfamiliar things in a place thousands of miles from home, never underestimate the power of a new perspective. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go with the flow.

Music Middle Class

2009-02-12T19:17:00.004-05:00

Last Thursday, one of my professors gave the class the option of sitting in lecture for 4 hours today or going to listen to guest speakers for however long they wanted to speak for. Naturally, we chose the guest lecturers. There were three of them, and they all had interesting things to say about the music industry and where things are heading.

What was more interesting than anything they had to say, however, was the interesting point that someday it might be possible for people to be taken seriously when they tell people they have a career as a musician. Currently, people view a musician's success by the number of albums they sell or how many endorsement deals they have. While the endorsement deals are becoming more common due to artists trying to find revenue with album sales slipping globally, being a household name shouldn't be a prerequisite for success. There are various levels of success within almost every profession. Doctor and lawyer are two professions where people assume they all either make a ton of money or spend their careers chasing ambulances...or hoping they don't have to resort to working in one. This is hardly the case, though. Many people in both lines of work make enough to live comfortably and retire at a relatively early age, but have no hope of waking up in penthouse apartments or driving cars made in Italy (unless they decide to spend eternity in project car hell with a FIAT).

The idea of a music middle class both excites and depresses me. On one hand, I've always started hyperventilating and curled into the fetal position at the thought of spending every minute between 9 and 5 in a cubicle working on spreadsheets. Being able to make enough to sustain myself and my family comfortably by playing local shows, doing the occasional tour and selling a few albums would be a dream come true. However, part of what excites and attracts people to the music business (and really, the entertainment industry in general) is the make or break aspect of it. If I knew that I didn't have to impress the hell out of the A&R guy at my show or produce fireworks from my frets during that once-in-a-lifetime meeting with a label head, would I try as hard? Would it mean as much to me? Would I put all my being into every verse...every note?

Forgive the introspection and dwelling on the future, but I'm kind of in love with the idea that it's all so fragile. Things always mean more when you have to work for them, and I'm not really sure it's best to have an easy way out. Not to say that the idea of music as a mid-level income is easy, far from it, because I'll never take this gift for granted. But I'm not sure I don't like things the way they are. After all, isn't the music the reason we do this in the first place? The money's nice, but it's not there now and I still fall harder and harder for the music every day. Won't I feel the same if the money never comes, or if it just stops for a cup of joe before moving on to the next person with a few rhymes and a dream?

So if the day ever comes that I complain that I might have to get a "real job" or that music's just not paying the bills, point me in the direction of this post. And hell, give me a nice smack on the back of the head while you're at it. I'll probably deserve it for a number of reasons, anyhow.

What Could Have been

2009-02-11T22:04:00.004-05:00

I wish you could hear me now

You're just not listenin'

Your eyes are focused on my lips,

A kiss could be the end

I turn around and walk away

You draw your breath in slow

But you can't find the words to say

"I don't want you to go"

I know I've made this mistake before

I don't wanna do it again

So don't smile and wave as I walk away

Thinking what could have been

I wish you could see me now

You're just not focusin'

Your head is laying on me chest

You hear my heart beatin'

I'm sure you heard it skip that beat

'Cause I can hardly breath

I know I swept you off your feet,

But you scare the shit right outta me

I know I've made this mistake before

I don't wanna do it again

So don't smile and wave as I walk away

Thinking what could have been

Who knows what the future holds,

If we'll even be together then

But just don't smile and wave as I walk away

Thinking what could have been

Work In Progress

2009-02-11T19:11:00.003-05:00

I guess you didn't know

Life was this way before

Well, baby, welcome

Yea, welcome to the real world

Welcome

2009-02-10T17:47:00.000-05:00

To those who read this, make yourselves at home. I'll be using this space for thoughts that are too long to post over on the twitter page. Since these usually won't be stream-of-consciousness postings, I can't guarantee they'll be all that frequent but I'll write when it comes to me. I've learned that you have to go with creativity when it strikes 'cause you don't know how long it's sticking around for or when it'll be back.

I also intend to use this space for posting lyrics, both stuff already in my collection as well as stuff that comes to me in the future. I've always had an aversion to sharing with the public what comes from my heart, but that's something it's high time I get over. Feel free to let me know anything you enjoy, but I'd prefer if you didn't try to use it as your own. Having connections in the music business inevitably leads to having connections with entertainment lawyers, and I'd really prefer to keep those relationships strictly personal. So please, no infringing on my copyrights.

That being said, I'd like to keep the atmosphere as laid back as possible. Thanks for your time, I hope you stay awhile. In keeping with my (stolen) New Year's resolution, let's go with the flow.

-Jordan