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Will Jack Ryan Save Us Next Time?
I just got in from a “Sum of All Fear” screening. If you haven’t noticed, I’m a film junkie. John Wayne’s “Sands of Iwo Jima” is in my DVD player. And as you’ll recall, I just screened the better part of the Kubrick box set last weekend. I love big dumb blockbusters just as much…
Read MoreStanding On The Edge Of The Ocean
I was in Stone Harbor, New Jersey, all weekend with my brother and his wife, though I mostly kept to myself, reading, writing, running, riding… sleeping. Friday night, the moon was almost full over the waves, Wildwood’s ferris wheel glowed to the south. I spent hours and hours sitting on the beach staring out at…
Read MorePretty Lucky
I’m a little out of breath, a little sweaty, just in from a late-night ride along the river. And what a ride! Man, every time I’m out in this city, I fall deeper in love with it. The moon cast diamonds on the Hudson, a beautiful brine smell rising heavy on the cool wind, the…
Read MoreAt Least I Can Fake It For You
As a kid, I used to doodle in the margins of my notebooks: self portraits, rocket ships, airplanes. As an adult, the tendency has manifested itself as writing track listings for imaginary CDs that I’d record were cost — not to mention demand — non-issues. So, I thought I’d share the current doodles. I’d call…
Read MoreBleeding Out Loud
So. Where to start. What to say. I’ve spent this Saturday alone in my apartment, watching a Stanley Kubrick documentary, and “The Shining.” Perhaps not the best way to spend a day that began in a dark mood to begin with, but fitting, perhaps, what with this unseasonable cold snap, the wind and rain. Last…
Read MoreSkipping The Second Half Of The Question
I broke up my twelve hour work day with an absolutely excellent rehearsal with Julia and Todd. Julia and I were harried. I sprinted into the studio from work she was on her way to a sound check. But Todd was there before us, ready, and chill. We raced through the set twice and, man,…
Read MoreThe Optimist Has Returned
Despite the soggy, windy, waterlogged day, The Optimist has returned. I just got in from rehearsing at Julia’s apartment on 2d Street and Avenue B. It’s a little lived-in place with odds and ends in every nook and cranny: masks from around the world, rubber flies and spiders, shelves and shelves of CDs (from Dumbhead…
Read MoreTribeca Talks ’02: Martin Scorsese, Jay Cox, Richard Price
Of my rocknroll fantasy, a friend from L.A. said to me yesterday, “Your in the wrong town.” I think about moving to L.A. frequently. About relocating the rock star dream there. The Hollywood Dream. Celluloid Dreams. I have the requisite screenplay under my belt (“Mo’ Hart,” a coming-of-age film about an aspiring — surprise —…
Read MoreOn Cellos And Blueberry Pies
I’m not sure if it’s been inordinately foggy this spring, or if I’ve just been staring out the window a lot, but, well, the fog’s rolled in over Hell’s Kitchen again. I just got done typing out all the chords and lyrics to next week’s set for Julia. She’s the cellist who was once in…
Read MoreWhat Would Frank Black Do?
I’m in the middle of the mailer making process. It’s the first one in ten years to have me — my face — on it. It’s a really overlit, straight-faced, U2-kinda’ photo, basically (plus some text). I didn’t have anything else, or any other iconographic ideas, so… I hope it’s not too pretentious. It’s actually…
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