i just need to write something as a relaxation technique. it will be in installments 'cause my computer has been crashing alot this was in the early 90's. i had moved into an old 2-bedroom house with my friend bart after his old roommate, a guy we called 'beast', had gotten married and moved out. the house had been bart's great-grandmother's or something like that; originally, it was going to be where bart and his wife were going to live, but she left him. it was noticeably old-looking and badly kept-up, especially when compared to the houses on either side of it - an old lady whose only hobby seemed to be yardwork on one side, and our version ned flanders on the other. it was an old neighborhood, though. it was on a flood plain and the street had bad drainage; after a good rainstorm the street would be like a river and the backyard, literally, like a lake. when i moved in we got a friend of ours named pete to retrofit the house for me - ramps, doors widened, even a porch at the backdoor. i paid for it, but the labor was free and he stole a lot of the materials from the places where he worked. the inside of the house was a testament to bart's eccentricities: pinball machine in the living room, mannequin legs on the wall, a stolen coke machine in the kitchen, a hall covered entirely with beer labels, etc. bart slept in the largest room on just a sheetless mattress laid on the floor. the only other things in there with him was an elaborate stereo system he'd built himself and a tiny little black and white tv with no sound knob that he'd keep by his mattress as a nightlight. there was a huge hole at the back of one of his closets that led to the bathroom.

bart was a strange guy. a lot of people like to be offbeat and affect strangeness, but bart was genuine. it was physiological; he seemed to have a surplus of energy that he didn't know what to do with, and he would jump from project to project. one day we were watching tv together, and somehow the price of food came up. he suddenly became angry and said, "why do we have to pay for food?" "because we can't grow it ourselves," i said. "i can," he said, and jumped up from the couch. he went out to the backyard and started digging up a patch for a garden. i remember he planted okra, jalapenos, and other stuff i can't remember. i remember he got one batch of okra that he had his mother fry up for him. after that he let the garden get overgrown and the okras started looking like big alien dicks. after that was a smokehouse that he never finished. then he did some electrical work on my bass that i had to badger him to finish. we were in a band together, more or less. or at least we were a part of a group of guys who got together and played music and even occasionally had a name and played a gig. bart would lean the mattress in his room up against the wall and we would practice in his bedroom. he was a drummer. not a natural talent, but he made for up for it with sheer enthusiasm. his day job was as an electrician, so he was also the one who worked the mixing boards and fixed the amps and all that. it must've been spring, the weather was nice. i was sitting out on the back porch drinking beer with bart. he looked over at the old garage that was all the way back to the northeast corner of the house. the house had been built in the early forties, and the garage was really nothing more than a two-car wooden frame with a dirt floor. "i'll bet we could make a studio out of that," he said. "ok. sure" "i'm serious - pour some concrete, sheetrock the walls and insulate 'em to dampen the sound. we can do it." he got up and called pete. the adventure began

alright, dammit, i'm going to finish this story. by the way, all of this is true. so bart gets pete over and they start working out what they're going to do. there's nothing like the bliss of having a building project, especially when you actually know what you're doing. as an aside, i did notice that when you live with guys who can actually fix a house (pete moved in with us after the studio was built), they're more inclined to let it get close to falling apart. they can always get around to patching holes later, right now they want to build that bar in the dining room. one time bart, the electrician, came home with an old ceiling fan which he installed in the living room. he got almost all of the installation finished, but thought that actually installing the wall switch wasn't worth the bother. after that, anytime you wanted to turn on the fan, you had to cross two bare wires sticking out of the wall. but i digress. i am in the living room. pete and bart are out in the back yard. they both come inside; bart looks excited and has a big shit-eating grin on his face and pete has sort of a worried smirk. bart says, "we're going to put vincent in the studio!" "seriously?" i say. vincent is a big dead mulberry tree in the front yard. mulberry's are nice-looking but squat trees with thick trunks and vincent was about as tall as one story house. i gave it the name vincent after vincent price. dead trees in front of houses always have that old horror movie feel. bart says, "yeah, i've been meaning to cut it down anyway. we're going to drag it back to the garage and stand it up in the middle and pour the concrete around it. it'll be great!" i look over at pete, who gives me one of those "i just work here" shrugs. i looked back over at bart. "yer just a non-stop adventure, aintcha?" i said.

we planned to cut vincent down the next weekend - me, bart, pete, and a guy named larry. i brought the chainsaws and the beer. bart had to work a half-day at the electronics store that day (saturday), but he said he'd be there at 12:30. larry, pete, and i were there at noon. we waited and drank beer. waited some more. by about 2:00 pete and larry were a getting antsy, and the started cutting the upper limbs off vincent. after that was finished, making the tree even shorter and squatter, there was still no bart. so we felled it. then we sat on the tree and drank beer. that was when bart showed up. he was pissed off, but we told him "fuck you." so now we had something like 2000 pounds worth of tree that we had drag over to the driveway and then all the way to the back of the house, into a garage, and then stand back up again. all of this long before we had the benefit of pbs's "secrets of ancient civilzations" or whatever it's called where modern people try to erect obelisks and lintels(sp?) and shit.

Then what happened?

don't encourage me. this is just my special place where i go to ramble and monopolize bandwidth. if i ever do finish this, some of you might come away with a few helpful hints on studio building and possibly the edifying moral: "your lives are pointless. dare to dream pointless dreams."

oh come on. I've been hanging out for days waiting to hear what happened next. Story-tease.

by all means, drop some hints. i'm going to be helping a friend build a studio in the house he's trying to close on next month. i'm expecting the project to end up being a complete and total fiasco involving structural damage, paramedic assistance, and lots of electro-shock therapy. i'm especially looking forward to the "chainsaws and beer" part. anyway. i plan on having as much fun as possible until we're forced to call the professionals in. come to think of it, if he were smart he wouldn't let me anyway near his house. especially not when powertools are present. what do you use for soundproofing?

mattresses foam egg cartons thick moving blankets what do you have access to?

I heard about the egg cartons,but I wasn't sure if they really worked.

I think they do. So does packing foam. (Trust me. It's what I used at the wreck studio i put together at work)

actually, i was just wondering what droopy used. i've got access to all sorts of shit. but we're going to go with professional materials. check this out. i've gotta soundproof my apartment to appease the pat buchanan mini-me who lives next door. i'm not sure, but i think all that high-pitched nasal shrieking and incessant wall-pounding means he doesn't dig bass heavy afro-jazz as much as i do. at least not at 4AM, anyway.

actually, the "chainsaws and beer" part of it is over. i know, pity. next would be the "bunch of idiots dragging a big-ass tree from the front yard to the back." there are also inspection hassles. here's what we learned about soundproofing: like i said, this garage was nothing more than a wooden frame with a dirt floor. if it hadn't had a driveway in front of it, it would've been a barn. after we had the floor down we worked on the walls. we put the studs up (the wall beams) and then started packing them with insulation, as much as we possibly could on the theory that the more there was the more it would block the sound. then we drywalled over it. after the construction was over, they had me sit in the studio and play basslines at jamming levels while they spread out along the neighborhood to check the soundproofing. to be fair, at the time i had a refrigerator-sized ampeg svt amplifier that they could probably hear in the next state. when i had used it in our first jam session in another garage, after the first song i asked, "my bass too loud?". the guitarist said, "well, considering the fact that i can't even hear the drums over it..." anyway, i was playing basslines in our new studio. one of my badmates came in the door after ten minutes or so and said, "heard every fucking note" and named each tune i'd played, even the high-end melodies. we had made the walls so dense that we'd had basically built a fucking amplifier. the guy who worked on our guitars explained it to us. when you hear a guitar, especially an acoustic, you're actually hearing the wood amplifying the strings. the face of a guitar is called a soundboard. he gave us a little example with a fork: hold a fork in your hand a give it a little snap with your finger and your can just barely hear the ringing of the metal. stand it up on a table so that the base is firmly touching the wood and give the tines a rap, and you can hear it clearly because the sound is vibrating the dense wood. this is why people make a big deal about what kind of wood guitars, violins, etc. are made of and the finish. when you're playing a stringed instrument, you're basically hearing the whole thing. this, of course, didn't help us now. he said that it would've been better if we had filled the walls with sand. there's a word he used, "blunting" or something, that was what you needed to do to soundproof. if you can do it, it's good to have and area of nothing at all, where the sound waves can dissipate. i think most studios do that, have a sort of "second wall" where the sound can sort of decompress - i've seen studios with plywood boards attached to the walls on little circular pads (like the bottoms of some couches) to create a sound buffer. not the whole wall, just strategically placed around amplifiers and drums. the plywood would be padded with carpeting or foam. since we sure as hell weren't going to tear the wall down again, we started lining the walls with "egg crates" which are these foam mattress pads that you can get at medical supply shops or sometimes drug stores (where they'd be cheaper, because anything that is a "medical supply" is automatically 3 times the price). they're mattress pads made out of foam with scooped-out pockets like an egg-crate that are used to prevent bedsores. we had seen egg crates, or something like them, lining the walls of a studio we once made some recordings in. it helped a little, but we were still fucking loud. we didn't have the energy anymore to build a second wall, so we just took our chances. we found the raising the amplifiers off the floors on old wooden boxes and padding the floor under the drums helped to dampen any floor vibrations caused by either of those. this why drum risers exist, i assume. there ya go. most of what went into this studio, which wasn't technically a recording studio, with sound booths and stuff, was pretty low tech. if you really want to soundproof, go on a word search or ask somebody who knows. next will be the amazing story of how we got a tree to grow from the middle of a floor.

good luck with muting the low end. you need air spaces.

i was going to recommend that. unless you buy new mattresses, they stink, eggshell foam is amazing expensive..... my drug dealer has a 24 track, digital whohaw in his crummy apartment, you walk through the door and all fo a sudden , its like a time warp vacuum conduit ...the "whoooooof" sound engulfs you. he spent mega money and he turn his kickin system up amazingly loud, and the folks upstairs and around him say nothing. but alas, he is lucky as he has a concrete foundation underneath him, which is essential

yeah, actually my apartment building has pretty thick walls. the only real sound leakage is that which seaps through the front door. i've never heard a peep from my neighbors' unless i was walking down the hallway and directly in front of their doorways. the puerto rican cats on the other side jam mambo so loud you'd think they were trying to raise tito puente from the grave, so i know it's not just me. i'm thinking that the nazi-midget's problem has more to do with him being a raging asshole and an intolerable dork rather than any real sound pollution coming from my apartment. but i do have a boston acoustic powered subwoofer that kicks some major ass. turn it up loud enough you can feel the bone at the base of your skull reverberate. anyway. maybe i'll take it off the floor and see what happens.

get a copy of Lou Reed's metal machine music, crank volume to maximum and point it in his direction. that'll make him happy

metal machine music? jesus. fucking monty python skit. "i fart in your general direction!" listening to that lp shoulda been a big hint for lou that it was time to get off the drugs. i use this to torment the chump-monkey. excellent CD. buy it.

swine sem played me the mix tape you sent him- we were stuck in chicago tollway traffic at the time----the tape was great--nothing like maggot brain to get you through the day.

i think it was. the linear notes prove what a cocksucker that guy is.......in short he basically said, "i don't expect you to get this double album full of brilliance, and I think you are an idiot to even consider the possibility that you do."

Frank Zappa said that only he and Edgar Varese truly understood his own music.

hegh. what a bastard. that has gotta been some of the most self-indulgent shit i've ever heard in my life. i'd use it to drive the little pecker next door batshit, but it'd probably just fuck-up my own head. and my head is fucked-up enough as it is. mavis-- glad you dug it. you send me your address, i send you music. well, eventually, anyway. promptness isn't really one of my virtues.

Swine, i give you my addy, you give me music? If you really want to make him go nuts, try some of this: "Messiah" - Fear Factory anything by Pantera "Wrath" KMFDM "Bled for Days" Static-X Emperor Cradle of Filth Satyricon Krisiun Mesuggah Factory 81 I assure you that any and or all of that will drive him absoultely out of his mind. unless he likes metal. saaaay... music exchange! who's up for it? email me

been done. Try the thread "Mix tape Exchange" ( i think it's called that). Pretty good chance of getting excellent tunes. I got stuff from Nate, Swine and Spider. All were excellent. (Although, swine, I must tell you that Mavis fell asleep to the Roots Live. However, she can actually drive to music that to me, is really sleepy - slow rhythms, quiet, soothing. Personally, If i am gonna drive, I gotta Rock!)

Ouch. Shoot me for not previously researching it.

i fell asleep to the roots live because it made me want to , um, er, "get busy" that i either had to sleep or continue going crazy....

i can vouch for the Roots as fuckin music,

right on. recently, i've been getting my grind on mostly to d'angelo's "voodoo" and pretty much anything by fela kuti. zephyr, click on the e-mail link up there and shoot me over your address. i'll hook you up with some stuff. don't count on getting any metal, though. my metal days were over before you graduated from kindergarten. although i do dig soulfly, but i don't know if that's considered "metal"... it's impossible to keep up with all the labels these days. i'm organizing some parties downtown to help finance my gear fetish. this guy who works at my day gig has this band i'm thinking about trying to get featured. www.33hz.com lounge. check 'em out.

Ooohhh....! (hee hee) Thanks Swine!

you shoulda jumped the llama when you had the chance.

jump the llama. jump the llama. jump the llama. jump the llama. jump the llama. jump the llama. jump the llama. hegh. shit. that's cracking me the fuck up. jump the llama! jump the llama! JUMP THE LLAMA! JUMP THE LLAMA! JUMP THE LLAMA! JUMP THE LLAMA! okay. i'm done now.

yeah....any d'angelo does it to me too. fela? some fela.....although so much of his music is so political outrage-laden that it's hard for me to find it particularly sexy, the beats definitely do it. i love original sufferhead. "water light-y voodoo house-y" which albums do you have?

shit. i've got about 15, i think. my favorites this week are "mr. follow follow" and "live w/ ginger baker." it's all about that hypnotic rhythm. anyway. it's damn near 6PM. i gotta bounce. (jump the llama)

hear about that shit at the source awards here in Pasadena? Something about dj quik and his people....i had to laugh when i heard about it as some of those peeps nuts are so damn big its in evitable, the downside is the majority of america will just write it off... "see those damn rappers are nothing but punks" i think this is the third year and last year that at least waited till the after party to start shit.

Swine, writing you an email as i speak... And, well, hell yes Soulfly is DEFINITELY still metal! God. I love that cd. the new one is coming out september 26, day before there's a kiss concert near me. And hey, I like lots of music, not just metal. It's just that metal is probably my favourite. Bach still rocks on, though.

yeah, i heard about that. pretty fucking miserable. going to a hip-hop show without some crew of knuckleheads trying to start a melee is like winning the fucking lottery. anyway, to hell with it. and to hell with the source. that rag has been wack for years. mavis- go see femi kuti. he should be hitting the pacific northwest sometime soon. i just saw him w/ positive force in central park on the 13th. fucking incredible. hard-hitting ensemble of about fifteen cats knocking out some of the best afrobeat since fela's africa70 w/ tony allen. and three nigerian sistas shakin' shit like you've never seen anyone shake it before. goddamn. just thinking about it makes me break out in a cold sweat. fela lives.

i just saw femi when he was here in july----it was amazing.i went home afterwards and played until i couldn't feel my hands anymore. it reminded me of all the fantastic music i've seen in recent years-- drummers of burundi, baaba maal, olodum.....i need to get back in a group where i play djembe again....samba is cool, but it can get monotonous. Brazilian and African drumming styles are so different---and i've had formal training in west african so my hands just want to do *that*.

you play djembe? wanna get married for a weekend? after i bailed out of seattle, i went back to guyana for the first time in 20 years to catch up with relatives who had never left. on the way back i stopped over in trinidad to catch the 50 Years Of Calypso show at the Savannah in Port of Spain. that was incredible-- mighty sparrow, lord kitchener, a bunch of local acts, and some headliners i probably can't remember. nothing beats the energy of seeing a calypso show in the savannah with a couple thousand trinidadians. makes me wanna move to lagos for a while and suck up the vibe. you have any of your stuff online?

swine yes i play djembe. also, surdo, agogo, and cuica. also many other types of percussion. wow! mighty sparrow? and lord kitchner(kirtchner?) i love that song, "may may" i like to think it's about me but i know better. i will marry you for a weekend for sure!!! What do you play?

Mavis, if/when I come to your area, I'll bring my ashiko. Damn, do i wish I had a djembe. I've been lusting after one for years.

where are you?

keys. yamaha cs2x and alesis qs6.1 lots of fwip-chicka-wah-wah psuedo-70's low frequency oscillation effects. that and deep funk bass lines. jazz phrases and latin grooves. i'm starting to take lessons again with this guy from the jazzmobile. my technique is wack and needs correcting. if i can get enough suckers to shell out $10 for this show i'm organizing, i'm gonna be able to pick up a nord lead 3. by the end of the summer. mmmmm. nord lead 3. mmmm-hmmmmmm. bernie worrell is god.

swine- will you please make me a tape?

yup. but you gotta make me one too.