Some random ass thoughts on Billy Joel and the Green Bay Packers. Also, Bradley Fuckin' Wik does an interview (not here, but it is on the internet)...

Better things, inane musings and what the fuck is the deal with the Green Bay Packers?

Like many of you out there, I've had a rough couple of weeks since the election.  But, I don't really want to talk about that right now as it's been talked to death and we have four more years to complain about it; so I'll save my commentary until after the fucker has been sworn in to office...  So, on to some better things, some inane things and some downright puzzling things.

Let's start with some better things.

First, I've had the pleasure of doing an interview for Trainwreck'd Society.  Over at Trainwreck'd, they have interviews, reviews and other features and musings on pop culture, from music to movies to comedy.  I love the environment Ron has created with his writing and look forward to his forthcoming podcast. You can read the interview in its entirety HERE:

https://trainwreckdsociety.com/2016/11/14/bradley-wik-interview/

I talk about my last album "Burn What You Can, Bury the Rest..." and where "This Old House" comes from amongst other things.  I always enjoy talking about music, especially my own, so this was a lot of fun for me.  I cannot wait to kick off press for the new album so I get to talk about myself even more.  But this is a great way to introduce yourself to my musical side a bit, if somehow, you don't already stalk me on the internet and revel in my every word.  

Second, also in better news, it's ThanksFuckingGiving time!  Thanksgiving is my absolute favorite holiday and it's not particularly close.  My favorite non-turkey Thanksgiving food:  green bean casserole.  It's the perfect dish for celebrating the beginning of the systematic removal of my people (I'm Native American, in case you didn't already know) from the earth in the name of white people feeling superior to people with skin pigment.  Ahh, good times...  At least I look white person-ish enough to partake in eating until I feel sick, watching football, then eating again, watching more football, then eating some desert, not because I'm hungry (I'm still sick from dinner #2) but because cake and pie is delicious and someone has to eat it.  All joking aside, I do love Thanksgiving and all its leftovers.  This year I am most thankful to live in a country, though it has its faults, that allows me to create and pursue my art with no repercussions.  I would not live where I live, love the woman I love, know the people I know without music.  It's been quite a journey from little 'ol Horicon, WI (Go Marshmen!), population 3000.  Quite a fucking journey, indeed...

OK, how about some inane musings?

Ever wonder why Billy Joel's four best albums (The Stranger, Glass Houses, 52nd Street and An Innocent Man) save their worst song for last?  I do.  I think about that a lot.  Now, to be fair, "Through the Long Night" off "Glass Houses" isn't actually a terrible song, like "Keeping the Faith," "52nd Street" and "Everybody Has a Dream" are, it's just the worst song on that album.  And even those others aren't terrible songs, just not very good, especially compared to the rest of those particular albums.  Those songs would be the second or third best songs on later Joel albums or the best songs Mumford and Sons ever wrote, but that's a whole other ball of wax.

I've been thinking about this a lot lately with the countdown officially on (I received test pressings for my album yesterday!) for the release of my long-awaited second album, "In My Youth, I'm Getting Old..." (apparently I like long, comma-separated titles with ellipsis' at the end...  Damn, did it there again...).  I've worked diligently on the tracklists of my albums as the order of the songs can greatly influence the feel, the flow and the ability of a group of songs to turn into an album, something greater than the sum of its parts; which is something that is severely lacking in modern musical releases.  As an example of how to close a record the right way, my first album ended with this fucking behemoth:

https://bradleywikandthecharlatans.bandcamp.com/track/just-like-jon-fickes

I know, it's long but trust me, it's worth it (that's what she said).  That song is journey and a story unto itself.  It is, without a doubt, one of my favorite songs that I have ever written.  It's hard to make eight minutes and fourteen seconds interesting and listen-worthy, but we actually had to work hard to cut it down to that final version.  "Just Like Jon Fickes" tells the story of a girl who moves to New York City in the hopes of becoming a successful musician.  Eventually it wears her down and she is killed by the weight of her struggles and her failures.  I didn't say it was uplifting, I just said it was a hell of a way to wrap an album as opposed to, say:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ph7oZnBH05s

(hopefully, they didn't make you watch the stupid Onerepublic ad I had to.  God, they fucking suck and it's criminal to call that music...)  At least Mr. Joel's video is stupidly entertaining.

Alright, now for the downright puzzling...

What is the deal with the Green Bay Packers?  It's been a tough season to stay positive as a Packers fan, to say the least.  At the outset, our offense was still shit but our defense was amazing.  We won three of our first four before you needed to buy an abacus (can you rent an abacus?  Something to think about) to count the number of injuries we had to our starters.  Down our top three corners, our only three running backs, some lineman, our middle linebackers and, of course, Clay Matthews, who finally got to move back outside and was wreaking some good havoc the first few weeks.  Then, our offense started to look like it might get back on track but has been so bipolar I've needed to take drugs just to watch it.  Trust me, that's the best way to watch this Packers team:  on drugs.

We've been so spoiled as Packers fans that it's hard to accept a non-playoff year but that's what we might be looking at.  At the outset, I thought this team had the look of that 2014 team that should've went to and won the Super Bowl.  Maybe this is the football gods punishing us for botching every single one of a dozen or so plays that, had we made even one, would've closed out the Seahawks in that Championship game.  That was easily the toughest and most inexplicable loss I've witnessed in my life.  But at least we had the playoffs that year.  The Lions, of all fucking teams, are currently leading the NFC North and I can't understand how this happened.  It just seems the injuries were just too much to overcome this year and Aaron wasn't able to drag us to ten wins and a playoff berth despite fielding a defense made up of special teamers and rookies.  And, for anyone who thinks that Aaron Rodgers has lost it, uhh, just remember this play:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ttDn8K7QzaU

Or go back and watch this throw you probably missed or forgot:

http://ftw.usatoday.com/2016/09/aaron-rodgers-best-throw-nfl-history-michael-vick-randall-cunningham-jay-cutler

He's still the most talented quarterback in the NFL, which is why it's so maddening to see him do those things then promptly miss a wide open Jordy Nelson or Randall Cobb or Davante Adams, who deserves a ton of praise while having this amazing bounceback year after all the shit he took while being injured and losing his confidence last season.  I'm happy for Davante.  I tried to tell everyone last year to cut him a break, now you see why.

Anyway, all we can do is watch and support our Green Bay Packers.  They'll figure it out eventually.  If not this season, then next.  Of course, there might not be a next season (or a country where America used to be) depending on what future President Trump does in his first eight months...  

Stay positive and always remember they can fire you, but they can't eat you...

Monday Night is for the playlists... a.k.a. time to get your drink on since there literally might not be a tomorrow...

God Save Us All, except Trump.  Seriously, Fuck Trump...  

On the eve of the Election 2016, or as it's better known (insert your favorite John Oliver alternate election name joke here, my favorite being "America's Shit Salad Fuckstravaganza 2016"), I wanted to live it up a little and let loose.  After all, it may literally be my last chance to listen to music and drink as an American.  Let's allow music to take our minds off of the Green Bay Packers' second consecutive loss and our possible pending doom come the morrow.  Enjoy!

The Cardigans - "My Favourite Game"

Jennifer Lopez - "Waiting for Tonight"

Starting this shit off with a two-fer.  Speaking of two-fers, any Gran Turismo 2 fans out there?  One of the most ridiculous things my buddy and I used to do, for hours and hours on end, was firing up the old Playstation, putting GT2 on in head to head mode and playing "tag" with the cars we would choose.  We would stay up all night, racing around the track trying to elude whichever one of us was "it."  We had some epic battles.  Seriously epic fucking battles to the death.  Sort of, but more like stay up all night rocking Jennifer Lopez's "On the 6" on repeat until one of us literally passed out from exhaustion.  "Waiting for Tonight" is the perfect song for three in morning driving, video-game style.  It really gets you in the zone.  One of my favorite things about my then best friend, was the fact that we could, unabashedly, enjoy silly pop music like Jennifer Lopez or Britney Spears or Mandy Moore with no judgement.  Definitely not something I shared with anyone else, being a twelve year old in rural Wisconsin.  For men, listening to Jennifer Lopez was generally frowned upon, to put it nicely.  We enjoyed just being fucking goofy and listening to goofy things.  Lots of great times...

Beach Slang - "Bad Art and Weirdo Ideas"

I know, right?  Fucking left turn immediately but this song kills me.  There just aren't many songwriters who can actually fucking write lyrics worth a damn anymore.  This muthafucker can.  I don't know his name because I hate googling things like that.  Fucking great and smart Rock N' Roll, Punk, or whatever you want to call it.  But whatever you call it, just be sure to also call it awesome.  He focuses a lot on the sense of being "alive," which hits me right where I need to be hit sometimes.  This album, masterfully entitled "The Things We Do To Find People Who Feel Like Us," warms the deepest parts of the cockles of my heart and makes me want to find a couple dudes or chicks to start a more hard-rocking version of Bradley Wik and the Charlatans.  I fall in love, rough, with records that inspire me, and this one definitely does.

The War on Drugs - "Red Eyes"

Well... This song has everything I hate about hipster music, but, for some reason, I can't help but listen to it.  They do the stupid "douse everything in reverb" nonsense, I can't understand a goddamn word this fucker is singing, the bridge sucks, the song feels loosely structured and not crafted into its' best possible version, but, despite all of that, I still rock out to it.  Go figure.  Fuck...

Paul Simon - "Kodachrome"

Let's cleanse the palette with this one.  Paul Simon might've been a huge asshole by all accounts, but, fuck, could he write a tune.  I love it when he says "my lack of education hasn't hurt me none."  That's my life.  In this day and age, people look at a (relatively) young man who says he intentionally skipped college quite strangely.  Most people don't understand what I got was so much more valuable.  I spent my college years, the amazing/terrible/hopeful/hope-killing years, traveling this great country across and back playing music.  Believe you me, I've seen more shit than I would've wasting my time learning shit I learned on my own for free anyways.  Maybe I would've banged a few more chicks, but, then again, maybe not.  I'm a relationship type of guy.  Asperger's and depression make it hard for me to be alone for any significant amount of time.  I almost found out the limit of that once, and I don't want to do it again...

Mos Def - "Hip Hop"

Early on in my getting-to-know-hip-hop-music days, my good buddy gave me this record, "Black on Both Sides," along with Talib/Reflection Eternal's "Train of Thought" and Aesop Rock's "Labor Days."  Holy muthafucking shit is that an education on some great hip hop.  I can't thank him enough for introducing me to so many great artists.  Listening back to "Black on Both Sides" makes me sad, though, as all of the issues he poses are still quite prevalent, and getting worse (thanks Trump, you cunt).  You can go back into hip hop further and hear the same things.  After all these years, it's depressing to see we haven't moved forward hardly at all.  It's fucked up.  There's a world full of people who don't look exactly like white Americans and somehow that's hard to accept for some people, and Trump is playing on that ignorance/fear.  Goddamnit.  Please people, don't let him become president...

Stevie Nicks (feat. Don Henley) - "Leather and Lace"

Stevie and Don Henley?  Uh, yes please.  Do I really have to say more?  If I had to pick one song to describe my relationship with my girlfriend, this would definitely be it.  Not sure if that's a good thing or not, but, well, it's true...

Pearl Jam - "Given to Fly"

For all of those who watch "Touring Band 2000" religiously, as I do, you'll get this one.  This is easily one of the highlights.  Fuck, it's just beauty incarnate.  Truly.  That's all I have to say about this one.

Neil Young - "Albuquerque"

This album, "Tonight's the Night," is one of the main influences on my new album.  I love the rawness of the songs and the recordings, which fits the songs fucking perfectly.  Sometimes, the best way to display the stories is to scale back the production.  This song sounds like I want all my songs to sound like.  I know this record was initially rejected by Reprise Records, but goddamn, did they fuck up.  Labels rarely understand.  Wilco made a movie about it...

Roy Orbison - "It's Over"

Someday, I might be able to listen to this song without tearing up, but not tonight.  I wish that when I grow up I can write songs like this.  Obviously, I'll never be able to sing one note in my life as beautiful as Roy, but I wish to God I could.  I really do.  This song is so beautiful and magnificent.  That fucking vibrato, those sad notes.  Roy was truly a once in a lifetime talent.  Johnny Cash spoke very highly of him, and given his "Black and Night" concert, Roy was clearly respected by his peers.  Well, I use "peers" loosely as not many could touch his level of talent and songwriting.  As far as male singers go, Roy's in a rare class with Otis Redding and Jeff Buckley.  Nobody tops Otis, ever, and I mean FUCKING EVER, but Roy comes close.  These are the kind of artists that make me feel so vastly unable to convey the same level of emotion, pain, hope, love, despair, happiness and longing.  At least I know where the bar is set...

Wu-Tang Clan - "Da Mystery of Chessboxin'"

Nine year old Bradley couldn't fucking comprehend this shit.  All I knew was that I loved it.  I heard "Protect Ya Neck" first on MTV and fell in love.  I ran to the library (yes, the library) to check out this CD and revel in it for a couple weeks.  I had friends who liked Biggie and Tupac, but even so, it was hard to convince rural, white Wisconsinites that "Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers)" was brilliant music.  Needless to say, I listened to this a lot by myself.  The music I couldn't listen to around others was usually relegated to the Walkman while cutting grass.  No one could hear what I was playing and it was probably better that way.  I could listen to anything I wanted away from my judgmental friends.  Or, I guess, "friends," as I would find out later.  Maybe I'll tell you the full story sometime, but for now let's just say I ended up punching one of my best friends in the face because he stood behind my (former) friends when they were verbally abusing the only black kid in our high school.  Shit kicked off and punches were thrown and he came to the defense of his lifelong buddy (which is hard to blame him for on that front, but it's obviously not acceptable given the circumstances) and I had to defend myself, and basic human decency, and hit him before he hit anyone else.  It was a strange, confusing time for me and I ended up without friends for a while.  But high school kids don't make great friends anyways and I found out the older kids had better weed.  So, I guess it was a win-win for me.  I won morally and in smokin' that shit while watching WWF on Mondays.  Life is weird but Karma is for real.  For real...

Speaking of Karma, I can't imagine what will happen to all of you who vote Trump tomorrow...  How about we don't find out...  May God have mercy on us all...

More concussion, Asperger's and power outage blues...

Blah, blah, blah something about concussions and Asperger's.  Also, some song recommendations...

One of the most difficult things about having Asperger's is that for a large part of my life I have to pretend to be someone different.  It's not an easy task and it feels very dirty.  It feels as though I am cheating or betraying myself and my life; that I am not being true to my life's purpose.  It's a very strange, imposter-type feeling that I carry most days.  The only thing that I could compare it to is how introverted people feel and are affected by meetings with strangers.  It's exhausting.  It physically wears me down to behave like a "normal" person for 9-10 hours a day.  I can't do it.  Well, I can and do, but only because I have to.  I don't have a choice.  The only jobs for mentally unstable, socially indifferent, self-absorbed people are:  Musician, Actor, Athlete or just plain old crazy rich person.  Seeing as I'm not rich, athletically gifted (though I was a pretty damn good shortstop) or absurdly handsome, musician seems to be the only way.  And I'm trying.  Believe me, I'm trying.  For English-speaking songwriters, there's maybe 15 people alive who are better than me.  But, as we all know, talent and skill and brilliance don't amount to diddly-squat so all I can do is keep on keepin' on, Joe Dirt style.  At some point, I'll tell the tale of the latest Bradley Wik and the Charlatans album, which is still on its way out, by the way.  I feel like James Franco in "11.22.63" when he was trying to stop Lee Harvey Oswald, the universe was throwing everything it could at him to prevent this from happening.  I'm not sure why God and the universe hate this record so much but fuck it, I'm gonna get it out there if it kills me.  The world deserves it.  Do I think this record will catapult me into the upper echelon of American songwriters?  Maybe.  But I definitely think this record will be a grower.  It may not light the world on fire immediately but the songwriting will sustain it until it gets its righteous recognition.  It will, goddamnit, if it's the last thing I do...

Speaking of last things, man, do these concussions last forever?  The ibuprofen I'm taking for the headaches will kill me before anything else.  It's been three weeks and I still can't see straight.  It's like being three drinks in all the fucking time.  You can see, but it's not perfect.  You can drive, but it's not your favorite thing in the world.  Even watching TV is not easy, and that's the fucking easiest thing you can do in the whole world.  Fucking seriously, three weeks in and the only thing that works is my ears and my ability to listen to music.  But, even then, my mind wanders.  I'm unable to focus completely.  It drives me fucking bonkers.  I almost stopped listening to a vinyl record part of the way through.  And I firmly believe that once you start a record, you play it all the fucking way through.  It was a sobering moment where I couldn't help but realize my predicament.  I hate it.  I can't wait to be "normal" (or, at least, my version of "normal") again.  Fuck concussions.  Fucussions.  Is that a thing?  ("The Grinder" joke for those who watched that immensely hilarious but ill-fated show.  Man, it was so good to have Fred Savage back in front of the camera).

Also, we're currently experiencing a severe storm warning.  I've watched a tree fall on a car in front of my apartment and prayed that the trees in front of my living room window don't pop in for a visit.  It was funny, the power went out this afternoon for a while, and I remember thinking "Shit, now what am I gonna do?"  Which, is silly for a number of reasons.  First, I always complain I never have enough time to play guitar/music.  A perfect, non-power activity.  Second, I lived for years without a computer, internet, etc. and those years were amongst my most productive and fulfilling.  One of the things I hate about our society is that the more convenient and easy things become, the lazier we become.  It's so much easier to sit at home and watch Netflix or Hulu than it is to actually do something that contributes back to humanity; whether that means conversing at a bar or playing music in front of people or whatever people do apart from those two things (my only outside of the house activities).

I never thought I'd love a cat, but goddamnit, I love my little kitty.  She can tell I don't feel well and has made it her (current) life's goal to make me feel as comfortable as possible.  Normally, all she gives a shit about is food.  She's like a little fucking dog.  She runs up to greet us when we come home, begs for food whenever we walk near the kitchen and love to curl up on our laps late at night while we watch SportsCenter.  Living in this kind of crappy, small apartment means no puppy dog for me, but she is somehow even better.

How about some music?

SONG I CAN'T GET OUT OF MY HEAD RIGHT NOW:

Not sure if I've mentioned this one before, but, fuck, this is a song and a half:

"Cost of the Cold" - Joan Shelley

It's got 800,000 some odd plays on Spotify, and I reckon at least 500,000 of those are mine.  You'd be surprised how many times you can play it in a row on the 5 1/2 hour drive to Spokane, WA...

SONG I CAN'T GET OUT OF MY HEAD EVER:

Again, I don't keep track of music mentions, so this might be a retread but this is, without a doubt, one of my favorite songs ever:

"I'll Believe in Anything" - Wolf Parade

This is one of those songs that just fucking hit me at just the right fucking time in my life.  I've said it before but I'll say it again (you wouldn't be reading this if you didn't give at least some shit about what I say) that one of the most amazing things about music is that a song can mean so many different things to so many different people depending on when it wandered into their life and what they needed from it.  I needed it to be my everything for almost six months, and it delivered without asking for anything in return.  It perfectly summed up all the pain and sadness and hope for me and the girl I was dating at the time.  I was young and molting my exoskeleton, caught vulnerable by the world before I could protect myself once again.  She was on her third exoskeleton but previously had been damaged so deeply that each new exoskeleton that grew out was already in a weakened state.  I hope she was able to adapt and grow a proper shell.  She deserved some protection from the wild.  I wasn't strong enough to give it to her at that time...

Well, that's about it.  Hopefully, I'll soon be able to report without said concussion and be back to my full powers.  But, until then, these may continue to be sparsely broadcast.  As always, go forth and, uh...  Shit, I can't remember.  Well, then just go forth for now, I suppose...