Holy Man

"Well, I can't!
If you have to fix it with a computer,
quantized, pitch corrected, and overly inspected,
then you can't do it,
and I can't get behind that"!

William Shatner/Henry Rollins
I Can't Get Behind That

So, me and this friend of mine made a CD of me.

As alarming as that is, just hear me out.

Anyway,...we had just put the finishing touches on a remake of Ian Dury's "Hit Me With Your Rhythm Stick" and we were sittin' in the kitchen eatin' cold Alfredo that was left on the stove. It was your average Sunday afternoon recording session.

He has a studio in a basement closet and he was recording me for free because he is my friend.

I would find a song I wanted to do and he would find the Midi files...or we would play all the instruments ourselves. The Midi files were so much easier to deal with rather than having to figure out parts and play them.

He would only give me one shot at the vocals though. If there were back up vocals, he would do them himself and then we would eat dinner or somethin'.

The reason for this is because he is a firm believer in the fact that vocals SHOULD me done in one take. Everything after that is a fix when it gets mixed. He is a master at the cut and paste.

I am not a singer. I have no misconceptions about that. I do not want to be a singer. I am a musician,...however, if you're gonna make a CD of just you, then you should have vocals because,...except for Bobby Beausoleil, instrumental music can get kinda boring.

Plus, considering the fact that I was doin' songs by Ian Dury, Bruce Springsteen, Tom Waits and Frank Zappa, I knew that the material I chose didn't have great singers to begin with,...so I didn't feel too bad about butchering the original songs.

I knew that my talking voice is in the low "D" range and was able to do some justice to Bruce's, "57 Channels and Nothin' On".

Everything else was a crap shoot.

As we were eating the Alfredo, he makes the brash statement that he could make me sound good on a "serious" song. He told me that I could go in there, sing my ass off any way I wanted to, and he would make it right.

I guffawed at such a proclamation.

He bet me.

I went home that night and began to peruse some music that I had that I thought might be a good fit.

I was listening to Dennis Wilson's "Pacific Ocean Blue" on repeat mode,...for about three weeks.

It dawned on me that there was an instrumental version of a song that Denny wrote right before he died. There were no lyrics on his version because the instrumental stood on it's own.

On the very end of the CD, however, there was a version with Taylor Hawkins of the Foo Fighters singing the lyrics that Greg Jakobsen wrote when he re-released the CD in 2008.

I now had an instrumental track,...and a template for the vocals.

Interesting.

I shot both versions over to him via email. He told me to come on over.

I got set up with the headphones and he stuck me behind the wind-screened mic.

He played the Taylor Hawkins version in my ears while putting my vocal track onto the instrumental. He told me to sing away.

I gave it all I had. After I was done, his wife walked into the room holding her nose,...in a subtle attempt to tell me I stink.

I didn't even want to hear the playback. She told me I didn't want to hear the playback. She said nobody should ever hear the playback.

My friend just rolled his eyes and pulled up "Dr. Sclock's Box Of Doom" on his computer. He laid my vocal track in there with the instrumental track underneath.

He then sat at the keyboard in an attempt to garner the key that the song was in. It was A flat minor.

Bogus key, man.

I then watched him pull bits and pieces of my vocals into the right key. He had one hand on the piano with another on the computer mouse.

He brought the thing into key.

I was impressed,...but I didn't like my enunciation and asked if I could do it again. He relented and I did the vocal again,...concentrating more on enunciation rather than key. He then tried to do the same thing,....but it sounded like Kermit the Frog when I was done.

He mixed the original back into it and called it done.

He defied me to find anyone who said it was out of key. I told him I wasn't convinced so he dropped my vocal onto the Taylor Hawkins version and put me in the right channel and Hawkins in the left.

It was in key....although the enunciation does leave a lot to be desired.

He told me it would always be that way,.... because I don't know how to talk.

I couldn't agree more.

As with all CD's, one has to make music videos for each track. Considering that this was a Dennis Wilson/Greg Jakobsen production, I knew it had to deal with Sharon Tate.

Considering the song was called "Holy Man", I felt that the lyrics deal more with the God who scooped her up in those final moments rather than the dregs who brought her there.

At least,...that's the way I see it.

So, there you have it.

A music video of Sharon Tate with lyrics by Greg Jakobsen and music provided by Dennis Wilson,....with me and Taylor Hawkins singin' the vocals.

(see below)

Anyway,....

A Letter To Dan…Bobby Failed Kindergarten…

You’re absolutely right, Dan. 

You work to make a living and Bobby does not. 

You don’t have all the time in the world to develop your lyrical muse in a tax-payer, paid-for music recording studio as Bobby has.

You haven’t committed murder and Bobby did. 

And, after some soul-searching as I was picking out the newest scent in air fresheners while doing my Chore-List-From-Hell, I figured out why there is such a difference between you and Bobby Beausoleil…

You graduated Kindergarten and Bobby should have been held back another year.

Yep.

It’s as simple as that.

You see, you never were satisfied with just the status quo, when your glue and glitter artwork was done, and may I say well done, you did NOT sit on your laurels 

and bask in the glory during the Cookie & Milk & Nap Time Hours, as you lay on your home-brought towel, on the floor of your classroom…

Your mind went to far greater imaginings. You sought to go where no Danny had gone before…YOU sought Grade One!

Bobby was too busy sniffing the glue instead.

Bobby Beausoleil wanted Cookie & Milk Time, all the time, and while you were content with only two cookies, Bobby wanted the whole box. Afterwards, Bobby was the first kindergartner to hit his towel for Nap Time and fell asleep just as quick, not one worry or issue keeping him awake; whereas, you lay there sleepless, your wee mind endlessly pondering what your next move would be, to get you closer to your goal - Grade One.

Bobby was sleeping sound like a baby instead.

He never gave a thought to who purchased that towel on which he fell fast asleep. He never wondered who paid for the cookies and milk that he so enjoyed. He minded not one bit that others in authority decided when Paper Mache Hour was or when  Story Time was not. And Grade One, heck, he never heard of such a thing, and if he had known of its existence, had no thought, one way or the other, what it took to get “there” or if he ever managed to get “there” at all…

You, Dan, cared if your wet Paper Mache strips were applied evenly. Bobby just slapped on his, knowing full well that someone else in authority would fix his boo-boos, so why should he go to the trouble?

You, Dan, cared. 

Bobby never did.

When you asked your Teacher, in the midst of Playing Doctor, how one actually became one, Bobby had no ambition to actually BE one, when he could so easily continue to PRETEND to be one. To pretend at working was good enough for Bobby, but not for you.

While you, Dan, worked like a Trojan, in Shoe Tying Class, to get that knot and that bow juuuuust right, Bobby slapped those two laces together, loosely and without care, knowing full well that his actions could risk someone tripping over the laces and being hurt. Sure, he knew there was every chance that someone in authority, possibly your “Teach”, would scold him for his heinous act, but in the end he knew his boo boos would be forgotten, he would be forgiven, and he’d eventually receive a Pass for actions which never deserved such…

Bobby needed to be held back but NOT YOU, Dan.

You strived, you worked, you dreamed and had your dreams fulfilled.

You attained your coveted Grade One, and Two, and on up to the impossible Twelfth Grade. Heck, you even studied in a specialty after that, to achieve the position you have now, never once considering murdering anyone for quicker advancement.

And look what happened?

You, my dear Danny, were richly rewarded with the job of your dreams, and have been working at your career ever since, putting in those ungodly hours and paying those enormous I.R.S. taxes, just so you could offer your former fellow Kindergartener, Bobby Beausoleil, what he never took the time to work for himself.

Why should he, when YOU were providing for him?

You passed Kindergarten, Dan.

Bobby did not.

Feel sorry for Bobby, Dan, that he hasn’t attained what you have attained, being forced, I say forced, into whiling away his hours in a tax-payer, paid-for music recording studio…

Not everyone is as fortunate as you, Dan…

Aren’t you glad you passed Kindergarten?

I KNOW you are!

"Ladies And Gentlemen,...Bobby Beausoleil"

" (moody instrumental Bobby BeauSoleil music here)"

Bobby BeauSoleil
The Rub

Bobby BeauSoleil.

Murderer,..tattoo guy extrodinaire,....satan worshiper,...bone-smoker,....musician.

Friend.

Bobby,...in spite of his faults, is a pretty cool guy. The reason I say this is because he was good enough to put all this freakin' free music up on his website.

I must admit, I like free music. I like it when someone says,

"Here,...this is free,...go ahead and just freakin' take it, man".

I went on his website and found a handful of songs that he recorded sometime in the past 40 years.

I have to say that I was pretty impressed. His forte' seems to be in the realm of cool riffs and exceptional mixing.

Instrumental music, such as Bobby's, seems to have taken a back seat to the music of the Lady Ga-gas and the Bruce Springsteens....who tend to rely on "vocals" to underscore the "message" they are tryin' to impart.

Not with Bobby,...I mean, Cupid,...no, wait,...Bobby.

He has a talent of weaving sound as if it were a tapestry of fluid emotion. His superb use of synthesizers and guitars meld the listener's ears to the story he tells....as in "Dancing With The Moon".....(Not to be confused with Dennis Wilson's, "Under The Moonlight").

It's the slow jazz style that catches one's ear upon first listen. The timing and use of laid back drums does give the impression of standin' out in a desolate backyard,...swayin' back and forth,...while lookin' at the moon....with the neighbors watchin' you from their kitchen windows.

It does make you feel like you're dancin' with the moon.

Next was "Running With The White Wolf".....a saturation of sound. A wet, audible feast for the ears. The climactic crescendo that gives one the feeling that they are, indeed, running with a white wolf,...down the street,...over the fields,....through empty parkin' lots,..... to the nearest Chipotle or McDonald's.

"The Rub" was, indeed, my favorite. A film noir soundtrack if I ever heard one. Bass exceptional,... and a breathy sax to compliment the shufflin' high hat that permeates the entire composition. The interchange between the sax and clarinet is sublime. A dose of muted trumpet underscores the sinister urge,...the sinister urge that requires the employment of a stall after a heavy cup of Starbucks mixed with bad mexican.

"Big House Blues" is a standard 12-bar-blues compilation. I'm not much on 12-bar-blues. It tends to want to make me blow my brains out. Bein' a musician myself, I have played enough 12-bar-blues to accommodate the world for the rest of it's life. 12-bar-blues are designed to engage guitar players egos. 12-bar-blues are that little self indulgence that allows mediocre guitar players to pretend to be somebody.

The bass line was really good. A lot of movement for a standard 12-bar-blue.

For freakin' free music, however, it was the best, man.

Ain't gonna argue with free music.

Ya know,...I have to say that Bobby worked really hard on these songs. He sat and thought about them. He made love to them. He fused together beautiful sounds that created a breathtaking landscape that one finds hard to deny,....hard to deny the myriad of colors he invested into his labor of love.

He put the time in and reaped the reward. He put the capital into the recording process and was able to come up with somethin' he could really be proud of.

I wish I could do that. I wish I could sit around all day,....comin' up with cool riffs,....and then bein' able to mould them together,....in a homemade recording studio,...and then releasing them on the Internet through my very own website,...that was designed with great aplomb.

I wish I could do that, man.

But!,....alas,....I have to go to that place where I have to make money so I can pay for the house that I reside in. I have to go to that job that I have,...to put food on the table and clothes on my back. I have to go to that job,....where I am in the fortunate position to be able to listen to Bobby's music at top volume,...instead of my own!

Yeah, that's a pretty sweet deal he has. His own recording studio,...instruments,...mixing boards,...website.

Ya know....not to take anything away from Bobby or anything,....but I can honestly say that his effort on that trite Kenneth Anger turd was not very good.

"Lucifer's Rising" took,...how long?,....about 30 years to finish?

It took him and Anger somethin' like 30 years to finish that self-indulgent piece of crap. I couldn't even watch it,...it was THAT bad.

Stoooopid cuts and all these asinine subtle references to things that mean nothin' to nobody 'cept Anger.

What the hell is this guy's problem, man? Why would he think that anyone would be interested in this crap?

I ain't no freakin' druid. I'm John Q. Public.

He took 30 years to create somethin' that would rob me of twenty precious minutes of life.,...I mean, I tried to watch it. I gave it a good runnin' chance.

What's with the volcanos, Ken?,....oh, rightrightrightrightright,...the spewin' forth of the depths of Hades,...I get it. Then there's the blood and the pentagrams,...right,...the whole "I'm a bad and evil man" gig. I get it, man. That's really deep, Ken.

I have seen first year film students, whacked out on weed for an entire week, make better,...and more marketable,...films than that.

I gave you the benefit of the doubt, Ken. I waited and waited,...because Bobby was gonna be in this flick,...but you let me down big-time, man.

Bogus,...with a capital B.

Bobby was supposed to be playin' Lucifer, wasn't he? I think I heard somethin' about that in freakin' 1974.

30 years invested in a twenty minute movie,....cripes almighty.

Bobby's in prison,... Anger doesn't have a freakin' job,...but it took you guys THAT long to finish one of the worst movies of all time?!

What the hell?

"Lucifer's Rising" ranks right up there with "Plan 9 From Outer Space",...'cept it doesn't have the humor,....or the endearing Ed Wood behind the camera lens.....it's got Kenneth Anger. The man who brought us the book, "Hollywood Babylon". That great picture book whose sole text is captions in the form of witty faux-poetry.

(......loved that topless pic of Peg Entwistle, Ken....oh, the hours I spent holdin' that picture with one hand,...couldn't have done it without ya. Thanks, man.)

I can come up with somethin' comparable to "Lucifer's Rising" in,...say,... about five minutes,....the time it takes me to use the can, man.

Marianne Faithfull sucked.... and I don't care if she was everyone's girlfriend,...she sucked!

(That's why she was everyone's girlfriend....because she sucked, man.)

The soundtrack went from BeauSoleil to Jimmy Page....and back again,....how many times?

Kenneth Anger can't organize a trip to the toilet,...much less produce some banal film about some stupid volcano thingy.

(And don't gimme that "existentialist" schtick,...crap,...Burb. I ain't in the freakin' mood, babe. I was out bustin' my hump on a Sunday morning so I can be a good taxpayer and help Bobby make his freakin' albums, man!....)

Sheesh.

That's the music of Bobby BeauSoleil!,...on White Dog Records and Tapes!,...or Cd's!,...which you have to make yourself from the mp3's downloaded from:

White Dog Music

(I wanna put the link in here,....but I can't figure out how to do it. Copy and Paste doesn't work,...I don't think it'll link if I just type it in,...I dunno,...what's this button here?,...that ain't nothin'....maybe this'll work,..no,...BUUUUUURRRRRBBBBBBB!!!!!!!)

(pause)

ZZZZZzzzzzzzzz

Anyway....

UPDATE: Here's the link to Beausoleil's WhiteDogMusic site, as requested...Dan, get your panties un-knotted already, here it is!


WhiteDogMusic