New commitment to this blog and y'all. aka I'm gonna do this shit for real...

You deserve better and I'm gonna give it to you.  Hot.  Wait, no, I just mean.  Ah, fuck.  I mean give it to you, sexually, or emotionally...

Sitting here in the Marriott Fairfield Inn in (ha!) Moses Lake, WA watching THE HIGHLIGHTS FROM GREEN BAY'S INCREDIBLE WIN OVER THE DALLAS COWBOYS one more time, drinking some Jim Beam Double Oak (not as good as the Jim Beam Black, but better than the White Label for sure.  We'll know definitively based on how I feel tomorrow morning), OK, well, drinking quite a bit of Jim Beam Double Oak, I can't help but feel lonesome; so I decided to write to y'all.  This Packers win reminds me of THIS WIN and THIS WIN, the second of which I WROTE ABOUT HERE.  Today is good day.  So why am I still so depressed?

I remember when I first starting traveling a lot, both I and the people I knew thought it was so cool to be in different cities, staying in different hotels (and often shitty motels) and seeing more of the country all the time.  But, it turns out, like anything, it was both exciting and extremely dull.  It turns out you don't get to see much.  I wish I could spend more time in each place.  The ones I visit often, I find I have more fun in.  I get to see and understand the local landscape, where all the cool bars and restaurants are and it helps me find the places I want to play at next time I'm around.  Some of those cities and towns turn out to be amazing, and some not so much.  I remember seeing Moses Lake, WA on HGTV (yes, I watch a lot of HGTV.  Yes, I like it.  No, I don't feel bad about it.  Chip Gaines and Jonathon Scott = thumbs up, Joanna Gaines and Drew Scott and pretty much everything else on HGTV = thumbs down, but I still watch because I'm too tired and too much a germaphobe to grab the remote and change it.  Also, I'm usually too fucking drunk to care.) and thinking it looks so beautiful, until I realized I've been there many times and I know better.  Yes, there are beautiful parts but I would never move there.  It's where my good friend Jon Fickes grew up, who would go on to make MUSIC LIKE THIS.  But, I love shitty TV.  I need the noise because I'm terrified of the silence and darkness.

True story:  I'm fucking petrified of the dark.  I cannot sleep in total darkness.  I lined my apartment with nightlights (read:  I bought two.  I have a small, shitty apartment).  But, it's probably not for the reason you may think; unless you also have Asperger's and are a depressed alcoholic with more issues than Sports Illustrated (remember when you would wait all week for the latest issue and when it came, you would sit in your room and read every word so that you could spend the next week discussing it in depth with all your friends?  Yeah, now that's a tweeter or whatever the kids call it and it's discussed for like fifteen minutes until the next one comes along.  Sad..).  No, it's for a different reason.  You know the movie "Inception?"  Well, that's how I dream; every fucking night.  No joke, it's fucking awful.  It's always a dream within a dream within a dream.  I can't tell you how many times I "wake up" only to find I'm just in another dream.  And they're always fucking terrible dreams that only end with me dying in some horrific fashion, only to start back at the beginning like "Groundhog Day" from hell.  Some nights it gets so bad that I intentionally try to kill myself in the dream, just to get out.  Never helps.  But, just like in "Inception" I always try to find something that is just a bit off, so I can tell if I'm still dreaming.  Sometimes it's the time when I check my phone.  Sometimes it's the coloring of the lights when I flip them on.  Sometimes it's the toilet when I get up to take a piss.  But something usually tips me off and I'm back into the darkness and back into the hellish nature of my dream, until I die and get to start back at the beginning; so I can live it all over again.  When it's completely dark in the house, I can never tell if I'm awake or not and I panic.  I know, alcohol probably doesn't help.  But neither does lying awake all night because you're terrified of the dreams you'll have after you fall asleep.  Is it something a therapist could fix?  God, I hope so.  I need one, but it turns out it's hard to find someone on my shitty insurance who understands Asperger's, which, it turns out, is a whole fucking challenge on its own.  Wait, why did I start writing this?

Oh yeah, I wanted to let you know that I'll FINALLY be writing these on a consistent basis.  I know, I know, I've said that before.  BUT, I will be posting one of these every Monday, rain or shine, depression or not (like that is ever a "not"), drunk or sober, full of ideas or just rambling.  I'll probably just want to talk about the latest Packers game and my week.  What was good, or more likely, what was bad.

Well, this week it's pretty fucking good, for once.  I saw Feist this weekend.  If you haven't seen her live, she's far more badass, more fucking Rock N' Roll, more guitar Goddess-y, more fucking genre-exploding-ly awesome than you can imagine.  JUST CHECK THIS SHIT OUT.  She's every bit the singer you would fathom from the records, doing shit that others wish they could only think of with her voice but she's an amazingly awesome guitar player and performer as well.  I'll probably always remember her for THIS, but I know I'm wrong and just a stubborn Asperger's asshole.  Which, sounds funny and I should probably trademark.  "Asperger's Asshole" sounds like a fucking hipster band who doesn't understand how debilitating it can be for a person (or, more accurately, the person who loves a person with Asperger's and has to deal with that bullshit).  Or, my Feist is also defined by THIS.  And, of course, it only matters what I think.  God, sometimes it sucks to have Asperger's as I actually believe that.  Just ask my poor girlfriend.  Or, any of the past ones.  Not fun; for them especially.  I've now been asked by every single girlfriend of longer than a month or so if I'd rather be the lonely singer-songwriter and have that story than them.  It's nothing I can do, it just seems that way.  Of course I wouldn't.  I haven't wanted that any of the many times, it just seems that way as I cannot express my level of Catholic guilt/Asperger's not wanting to change anything in a way that doesn't include me being angry and resentful towards people who accuse me of things.  I wish it didn't have to be this way.  I wish I didn't seem like such as asshole, because I'm not, in my heart, but, alas, it certainly seems so, and the more I am pushed, the more I dig in.  Not fun for either of us...

Also, I'm feeling like a failure as I don't think I did enough to promote my record release.  Now, for sure, it didn't go poorly and we've been getting good press and initial sales.  But, since I was in a car accident and concussed a month and a half before and up to and through the release, I missed some critical time.  I wasn't right til after the release.  I feel guilty about it and wish I could've done more, but when you can't see, hear or think straight, it's hard.  Concussions suck fucking ass, but I know two things for sure:

1.  I wouldn't have not played sports knowing the consequences.  I loved every minute, including the four previous times (that I remember, could be more) that I got my "bell rung" (two in football, one in basketball, which included a torn achilles, and one in baseball, which included a broken nose).

2.  I'm predisposed to head and brain injuries as when I was a baby I had a chunk of my skull removed and then re-connected due to a bone growth deficiency.  Imagine my poor mother trying to keep a two year old from hitting his head on shit, as it could cause permanent brain damage.  Not fun.  Two year olds fucking run into everything.  My mom had to turn our whole house into a padded, blanketed wonderland so I didn't turn out mentally retarded or worse.  God bless her.  Seriously.  I could never imagine the stress she was under as her child had no skull protecting part of his brain for like a year.  I owe her my life and everything.  She's a saint...

The guilt I feel over not giving this release my all is intense and I'll probably never forgive myself for getting into a car accident that was 100% not my fault (I was rear-ended at a red light).  But it'll help motivate me over the next year or so to work harder.  I hate feeling guilty, which is why I don't go to Catholic church anymore.  That and the fact that if God wanted us to go to church, He wouldn't have invented Football and Nascar.  Yes, I'm a Nascar fan.  No, it's not just fucking turning left, as people assume.  And I love Bill Elliott's kid, Chase Elliott.  And Ricky Stenhouse Jr. as I've met him a few times and totally got my ass kicked by him go-kart racing.  True story.

OK, with half the bottle of Jim Beam Double Oak gone, I should probably wrap this up.  I'd like to claim that THIS WAS ME but, apparently, there's another Brad Wik.  Fucking dick.  Stealing my thunder as being the awesome-est Bradley Wik.  Well, let's be honest, I still am the awesome-est and maybe that is me (the video is inconclusive and I don't really remember high school, so maybe!).  Well, for sure THIS IS ME and I'll leave you with young Bradley Wik singing folk songs in open-D tuning for some reason, while playing at the venerable Cafe Wha?.  Still can't remember why I decided open-D was the best decision since I never played those songs in that key before or after that show, but so be it, it turned out alright.  I love y'all, and I'll see y'all Friday, October 13th (spooky, I know) at 9pm EST/6pm PST for my next live Periscope show.  Search "Bradley Wik" (@bradleywik) on the Periscope app or CLICK HERE to follow on your computer.  Good night y'all. See you on Friday and talk more next Monday...

ALBUM RELEASE AND PERISCOPE LIVE SHOW

Fuck, that was way too much fun not to do again...

First off, I would like to thank everyone who joined in and watched my first ever PERISCOPE LIVE CONCERT!  I appreciate all the kind words, hearts, funny comments and especially the interaction between those who tuned in live.  It was amazing to see @jakebecker make fun of my disheveled (and, I think, sexy) looks, all the people saying "clap, clap" and tapping hearts at the end of songs to make me feel less like a guy with a guitar alone in a room playing music to my phone and a mic, and, of course, @mattysauza with my favorite comment of the night:  "Tommy Stinson loves you."

I realize that I'm still learning how to do this and make it as fun as possible for everyone.  I missed a lot of comments during the show, caught myself watching myself on camera and trying to read what people were saying and missing a chord (which not being able to play guitar for the month and a half before because of a car accident didn't help either, but still) and am getting used to playing and talking to myself; which I do all the time, but that's usually only after a pint or so of bourbon, a couple episodes of BoJack Horseman and an hour or so spent wondering how I'm not as famous as I think I am...  Or, what I call "Friday Night."

Which leads me to my next point:

I am calling these Periscope Live shows the "Friday Night is for the Drinkers Concert Series."

Those in the know will get that reference, but for those who don't, stop whatever you're doing IMMEDIATELY and CHECK THIS SHIT OUT!  The plan is that I will do these Periscope Live concerts every other week, with new songs and stories, and various amounts of drinking before, during and after the show, themed to what I am drinking that night (mostly different types of bourbons, but also some scotch, wine and beers as well).  I will be broadcasting from different locations, bringing on some of my talented friends to play/talk about their music, opening up about my personal life, some of the crazy shit I've done while moving around the country and playing music, my struggles with depression, my struggles with Asperger's, and anything else I think of and want to discuss with friends, family and complete strangers via the internet.  Hell, there may or may not be giveaways to live viewers.  You'll have to tune in and see...  Future plans include an accompanying "Friday Night is for the Drinkers" podcast that deep dives and expands on some of the songs, goes back over the previous concert with a look ahead to the next one, and more of the one thing everyone loves:  Bradley Wik.

Sidenote:  I love people who love my music (I'm easy) and want to congratulate @mattysauza on being the first to request a song!  I was only playing songs from the new record for the album release so I wasn't able to fulfill it, but @mattysauza rest assured there's a song coming for you on the next one...  Now, it's not TRL but I will pick at least one request (of my songs) per show (maybe more depending on how generous/drunk I feel) to play.

Thanks again and I'll see you all soon!  Well, I guess you'll all see me and I'll occasionally see things that you say about me.  More comments, more interaction, more hearts, more making fun of me and each other, I love it all!

Remember follow @bradleywik on the Periscope app to stay up to date or CLICK HERE to sign up and watch these shows on your computer.

Go Pack Go! Intro video on Periscope!

My first official Periscope post!  Y'all bitches got 24 hours to see that shit...

Hey everyone!  It's Bradley Wik here and I want to let all y'all know that I posted the first video to my official Periscope account, which can be found HERE or by looking up "Bradley Wik" (@bradleywik) on Periscope.  Videos on Periscope only stay up for 24 hours so get on it and watch that shit!  It's the first Sunday of Football and I couldn't be more excited that my Green Bay Packers (yes, "my" as I am an official stock owner) just defeated the Seattle Seahawks in an amazing and thrilling game.  Unbelievable defensive game from both teams but, alas, my Packers prevailed.  I still haven't forgot the "Fail Mary" game or the 2014 NFC Championship Game that we shouldn't have lost, but that's another post for another day...

Remember that THIS FRIDAY SEPTEMBER 15TH at 9pm EST and 9pm PST I will be performing LIVE ON PERISCOPE to kick off our official album release for "In My Youth, I'm Getting Old..." (pre-order available now on iTunes).  I'll be posting videos all week leading up to our official album release on Friday.

Friday September 15th at 9pm EST and 9pm PST, Bradley Wik will be performing LIVE ON PERISCOPE.  Tune in to follow Bradley HERE or by searching "Bradley Wik" (@bradleywik) on the Periscope app.

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 15TH, Bradley Wik will be LIVE... in your living room. Or bathroom, your choice...

BRADLEY WIK LIVE ON PERISCOPE...  What the what?!

On FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 15TH (the day of our official album release), I, Bradley Wik, will be live-streaming an intimate acoustic performance for our fans all around the world.  "How?" you may ask.  Turns out the internet is weird and there's this thing called PERISCOPE.  It's not something we've ever attempted, done or even though about until now.  But, while recording an interview for a radio station in Switzerland, I thought of how limiting playing traditional shows can be sometimes.  Playing shows is only for one specific place at one specific time.  I wanted to play for all our wonderful, amazing fans, wherever they may be, all across the world and elsewhere.  For crying out loud, my own mother, for instance, has only seen me play three times, IN THE PAST TEN YEARS...

So, I've decided this is the best way to spread the love and be with everyone at once; because that's what everyone wants:  to be closer to Bradley Wik.  It will be intimate, it will be revealing, it will contain adult language, it will be one man with a guitar, and it will be what previously could only be seen in select places.  I'm so excited for this!

So, the details:

Friday, September 15th at both 9pm EST and 9pm PST

If you're already on the Periscope app, look me up at:  @bradleywik

If you're not, you can click this link to sign up and follow me:  https://www.pscp.tv/bradleywik/follow

You can watch on either your phone or your computer.  I will most likely be doing these live-streaming shows every other Friday, but, for now, tune in Friday, September 15th for ALBUM RELEASE LIVE-STREAMING EVENT SHOW!  Yes, I know, it's kind of short notice but hey, you've got 20-30 minutes, right?  Look at how handsome I am in a bedroom...  I could be in your bedroom...  Hot, right?

Look at that sexy man...  Who wouldn't want him in their bedroom?  Well, on September 15th at 9pm EST and 9pm PST you can make that happen.  Follow @bradleywik on the Periscope app or at https://www.pscp.tv/bradleywik/follow

Asperger's and some shit like that... aka it's not that uncommon, fuckin' Wonderbread...

Fuck a duck, Asperger's sucks...

Life is funny sometimes.  OK, all the fucking time.  Every single goddamn time I feel like I have a handle on shit, I'm reminded that, like Cerrano, I never could hit a curveball.  Well, maybe I wasn't that bad when it comes to the "benders" but I definitely had no future in baseball.  It's part of how I got started in music to begin with.  (For more info on that, check out THIS INTERVIEW).  But life is a tricky fucker.  I've stopped trying to figure it out.  At this point, I'm just along for the ride; to my girlfriend's dismay.  She's much smarter than I am, much more hard-working and more motivated, too.  Daily I struggle with my Asperger's, the (resulting?) depression, alcohol, rigid OCD-type activities, and the like.  And, daily, she struggles with all that too.  I feel bad that I put her in a position to have to react to and interact with me as I try and find ballast.  It's a thing that causes me even more anxiety and depression.  I hate that I do that to her, but what can I do?  I love her, but I know I'm a motherfucking handful.  I know that's the reason I drove my previous girlfriends away, though, now, I have a name for why I appear to be an asshole sometimes.  It's not defensible or an excuse, but I'm trying hard to understand it, at least.  I probably won't ever be able to change, but fuck it, why should I?  We all have our shit.  None of us are clean, except maybe Brett Favre, the greatest living human who ever walked the earth.  And the one who had the most fun, just check THIS SHIT OUT.  I wish I could live like that.  I'm so glad I got to experience that full force.  My first memory as a child, and I think I've mentioned this before, is Don Majkowski going down in that game against the Bengals and Brett coming in and leading them to a last minute victory, and, then letting go of the ball on the extra point so as to not injure his hands.  I knew right then that my life was going to change and that I had just witnessed a brilliance only matched by the first time I heard Bruce Springsteen's "Born to Run."  Those were the two seminal moments in my life and I'll never forget them.

Anyhow, why did I start writing this?  Oh, yeah, has any band ever been a better cover band than Guns N' Roses?  Taking the "Spaghetti Incident" as read (yes, this an actual music video), also throw in "Knockin' on Heaven's Door" and "Live and Let Die."  God, the 90's were fucking awesome..  And, of course, outside covers, they wrote the greatest song ever:  "November Rain."  838 million views don't lie.  Fuck...

Speaking of the 90's and how much I love them, but how so many people hated them, I would like to recommend one of my favorite movies:  "The Wrestler."  I remember when I first met my girlfriend, in that early flirting, but not, but still trying to figure each other out phase she asked me who was the movie character I most felt akin to.  Although I would've liked to answer Aldous Snow from "Get Him to the Greek," the answer truly is Randy "The Ram" Robinson from "The Wrestler."  His love for the action and the crowd was unmatched by anything he loved in "real life."  Although, my girlfriend would hate to hear it, I feel the same way, in regards to music.  Any success or love I receive from that is greater than anything I could receive from another human.  I love to read reviews of my brilliance.  It's weird, but it makes sense to me.  I work so fucking hard for this shit, I deserve some praise, whomever it may come from.  Very few people can write stories on my level and I should be acknowledged for it.  But, then again, who the fuck am I?  Just another fucking millennial-aged piece of shit who thinks he's brilliant.  Maybe I'm just a product of my environment.  Wait, no, fuck that.  I could give two fucks (truth be told, not even one) about validation.  I know what I write and sing is great.  And, it should be.  It's fucking pointless to just pump out narcissistic bullshit for no reason.  I write to stay alive and to feel human.  It's the Asperger's in me that desperately wants to feel like a person; that wants to feel connected to other people, but can't.  I feel like all great artists experience the same thing.  Who else would be fucking insane enough to risk their lives and sanity for personal glory?

Sorry, I'm rambling now due to my drunkenness.  I love y'all and thanks for reading.  Hopefully, this makes a few people feel less alone in their Asperger-ness.  Or, helps people realize that they have Asperger's and look it up.  Just knowing has helped me tremendously.  And, I'm sure, my girlfriend feels better about certain things.  Some things she'll always be mad about and never understand but I think I can save our relationship with knowledge and acceptance of my issues.

As always, keep a good head and always carry a lightbulb...

Where the fuck have I been for the past three months? aka I had to have heard some awesome new music, right?

Muthafucker, I get it.  I've been distant, but I still love y'all.  Seriously, I missed you too...

I know, I know...  Three fucking months.  I've been gone for three fucking months and I'm sorry.  I'm not really, but it sounded nice to say.  For the record, I haven't just been lounging around and drinking margaritas (although I did just get back from Long Beach, CA where we did lounge around and drink margaritas, but that was only one goddamn week...) trying to understand how everything Trump does is either the worst thing ever or no big deal, depending on who you're currently listening to (Hint:  it really is the worst, right?  Ha!  Now, I'm part of it.  Wait, don't listen to me.  Double top-secret hint:  listen to everything I say because I'm smart as fuck.  Or don't, I don't actually care).  I also haven't been watching nearly enough Brewers baseball, nor have I been enjoying the fact that we actually have some fucking sun in PacNorWest and/or the fact that I actually have a tan from my Cali trip that I can rub in the face of all these pale fuckers out here.  Us Injuns tan quick, I tell you!  I also haven't been playing the shit out of my new Pro-Ject Debut Carbon record table, which sounds unbefuckinglievable, especially on those colored vinyl Billy Joel remasters or the Big Star re-releases like "Radio City."  I also haven't been writing, performing or recording any new music, not in my apartment or elsewhere.  No, it's been much less enjoyable than any of those things.  I've barely taken a satisfying shit in the past three months, it's been that goddamn stressful.

So, what the fuck happened?  Well, as has been par for the course on my upcoming album, things seemed like they were all wrapped up and then went fucking pear-shaped, AGAIN...  Making this record has been the single most frustrating thing I've ever been a part of in my life, and that includes watching the Packers lose Super Bowl XXXII to that fucking horse-faced piece of shit John Elway.  It's been almost twenty years since that game and clearly I haven't been able to fully let it go.  The nice thing about music though, is that eventually (and, by "eventually" I mean SEPTEMBER 15TH 2017 MUTHAFUCKERS!!!  It's official!) the record will be out and all will be right in the world.  The Packers can never "eventually" win Super Bowl XXXII.  So, I'll definitely carry that with me forever.  And yes, I still believe it was more painful to lose that game than the 2014 NFC Championship against the Seahawks; or, as I like to call it, the Russell Wilson undiagnosed concussion game.  I know what I saw...  Someday, I'll tell the whole tale of everything that went wrong during the making of this album, but for now, let's just say some really weird shit was happening when the test pressings got made and Ed Brooks is a wizard/magician/god who can fix anything audio-related.  So, now, three months later, we're finally back on track.  The lacquers have been redone and sent off for test pressings (knock on wood nothing more gets fucked up) and the promotion/publicist company, Planetary Group, has set the initial launch schedule.  Again, September 15th is release day for "In My Youth, I'm Getting Old..." or, as I like to call it, the day I go from obscurity to... relative obscurity.  Or, maybe I achieved "relative obscurity" with "Burn What You Can, Bury the Rest..."  I mean, the internet and pockets of radio did take a shining to us.  Just look at all the nice things some people said (watch the scroll on top of the page) about us.

But, in those three long, agonizing months, I did find some fucking amazing new records and tunes.  Some old, some new, but all of them nevertheless fudging (notice how I didn't say "fucking" again! I'm learning from Kimmy Schmidt.  Shit, I guess I did say "fucking" anyways, twice now, in fact... baby steps) awesome.

Steve Forbert - "Romeo's Tune"

I don't know how I didn't find this fucking song years ago.  It's so fucking brilliant.  It literally, not figuratively, stopped me in the middle of my tracks when I first heard it.  It popped up on a Spotify playlist while I was running and I physically had to stop and figure out what I was hearing.  The story of Steve Forbert is so sadly played out:  he get's signed as "the next Dylan," as if that actually exists, has a minor hit with this tune, then releases a couple records that fail to chart a single and gets buried by his record label and it ruins any sort of career he had as a major recording artist.  I'm sad face...

Courtney Marie Andrews - "Irene"

This whole record is beautiful in a Ryan Adams type of way.  Acoustic guitars, honest vocals/lyrics, warm sounds, it's the real fucking deal.  I love the line "Keep your grace, Irene, don't go falling in love with yourself."  Just a damn good record from a damn good songwriter.

Childish Gambino - "Sweatpants"

Just a fucking fun/funny song from a former "30 Rock" writer.  Who knew Tina Fey had great taste in rich kid asshole MC's?

Townes Van Zandt - "To Live is to Fly"

A beautiful song that has just stuck with me over the years, especially recently.  Not sure if it's because I'm getting older or just because I'm getting more sentimental, but either way I didn't this song on repeat til recently; so, I guess it's because I'm just (feeling) old.

Modern Baseball - "Wedding Singer"

It's not just because I have an unhealthy obsession with the Adam Sandler joint of the same name (remember when Drew Barrymore was so fucking hot?  I do).  It was such an important film from my youth.  But, wait, that doesn't mean fuck all in regards to this song.  This whole "Holy Ghost" album is goddamn brilliant with its punk rock leanings, sentimental lyrics and overwhelming sense of sadness with regards to becoming an adult and the ensuing life.  Sounds about right...

Tommy Keene - "Nothing Can Change You"

Keene's "Based on Happy Times" album is a slam dunk for any 'Mats fan.  Punk songs, happy songs, slow, sad songs, lyrics that remind us of our own humanness.  Fuck, what else do you want?  I mean, come the fuck on...

Land of Talk - "Loving"

Land of Talk peaked my interest with "Some Are Lakes" but this album sounds so much more grown up, in a good fucking way.  Not in a Wilco sad, old white guy kind of way but in a "I've seen some shit kind of way."  Maybe that's true or maybe the singer has just gone through some more life and she just knows how to better turn a phrase.  Either way, she's got me hooked, and like ringworm, it's in and it won't be going anywhere soon.

Hopefully, there are no more setbacks with my record and we can finally just be on a normal path to wrap this fucker up.  But, until then, I've always got wonderful music to fall back on in my time of need.  And, so do you.  Love y'all, 'til next time...

The pains of letting go... aka it'll never be good enough for, well, just me, I guess...

I love her so much, but she's not mine to love anymore...  It's over and she's (almost) gone...

I'm sure you've heard this before, but one of the hardest things for an artist to do is to let go of what they've been working on and putting all their time, energy and (sometimes) money into; in my case, that taking the form of an album.  One of the downfalls of creating music is that it'll never is good enough.  Nothing is ever as beautiful as the music in my own head.  The vision I have never matches the eventual sounds I hear.  It's a very common problem.  Hardly anyone I know who has made an album has ever been happy with it.  You get a lot of "I'm satisfied" but rarely happy.  I think it was Thom Yorke who said eventually they'll be able to plug a cable into the back of your head and then, finally, you'll be able to hear, purely and gloriously, what he is actually trying to create.  And if Thom Yorke isn't satisfied with what he's created, God help the rest of us fucks.

There's something terrifying yet enthralling about releasing a record.  You've worked so fucking hard for months, sometimes years, to get your music to this point.  The hundreds of shows, the countless hours spent rehearsing and working on your craft, the arguments, the late nights, the six hour drives for the forty-five minute shows, the time not spent with your family, friends, girlfriends, whomever, the depression, the doubt, the fear of wasting your whole life for some insane ideal existence that more than likely wouldn't make you any happier than you are at this very moment, the guilt of leaving your family, your eleven year old brother who could've used a little more male guidance but turned out just fine anyways (maybe he didn't need it or maybe he's just that fucking awesome to turn out as fucking awesome as he did), to head West (and then East and then West again and then back East and finally West again, for maybe the last time but probably not) to try and make a living playing music although I couldn't sing and I could barely play guitar; all of that just to make this fucking record.  My whole life is in this album.  All the love and hope and faith and fear I've ever known.  It's all there, for people to take in and experience.  It's me, all of me.  So, naturally I want it to be the best possible version of itself.  I want it to be amazing and beautiful.  I desperately want it to be the way I hear it in my head, untouched and unmarred by human hands.  But, unfortunately, and just like me, it won't be perfect.  It won't sound like I always dreamed it could.  I don't sound like I always dreamed I would (a combination of awesome with Robert Plant on vocals on Jimi Hendrix on guitar).  It cannot exist untouched or unmarred by human hands.  Humans have to be involved.  I have to rely on good ol' unreliable humans, including, and especially, myself.  You're always chasing something unattainable.  A sound that can't exist until someone makes it exist, but, in doing so, will degrade its purity and, therefore, its quality.  I could forever keep my music to myself, wonderful and perfect, but that would serve no purpose.  So, eventually you must commit it to tape (in this case literally to tape), accept it imperfectness and then let it go out into the world.  Once it's out, it's no longer yours.  It's very similar to a child.  You create it, work on it, make it the best you possibly can and then let it go and hope for the best, (un)confident you did the best you could.

Now, to be sure, one of the best things about having Asperger's is that I don't care about other people's feelings or reactions the way most people would.  In music, or art in general, this is a huge boon, and the reason I think many great artists have a touch of the autism.  This is where I have the advantage over many of my fellow musicians.  You see, I'm not worried about what other people will think about my album.  The reason releasing it is terrifying yet enthralling is that it will never live up to my standards, and those are the only ones I care about.  I want to be happy with it thirty years from now, should I live that long.  If people don't like it, fuck them, it's their loss.  I know my upcoming album ("In My Youth, I'm Getting Old...") is great and tells the stories we need more of:  human stories.  Too many songs are about falling in and out of love, mostly superficially as well.  That's the fucking easy part.  Anyone can fall in and out of love, sometimes multiple times a day.  These songs are about that whole fucking middle bit where you're trying to decide how much you want to let someone into your life and heart, whether this is just a temporary rough patch or the end, whether you should suck it up for the kids or move on so the kids don't have to deal with it, whether this marriage will be OK or is ruining our lives, whether I'm looking for reasons to leave instead of seeing the reasons to stay, whether we keep fighting or just say "fuck it" and go dancing, whether I'm too scared or not scared enough of this relationship, and on and on.  That's where the fucking meat and potatoes is.  The falling in and out of love is ten to twenty percent of the relationship experience.  The bulk resides in all the other shit.  That's where "In My Youth, I'm Getting Old..." lives.  They say write what you know, so that's what I fucking did.  My friends and I are/were in our mid to late twenties and going through the round of divorces and breakups and struggles of whether to stay together or cut our losses and move on before it's too late, that start to happen around this time.  No one fucking knows who they are when they are eighteen to twenty, so to commit to someone long-term at that time is more likely to fail than succeed; and we definitely didn't help the success rate.  But, out of that came the beginnings of these songs and the vision for the album.  Sometimes it's better to go out dancing, forget about everything for a night and just live to fight another day.  Sometimes you just can't.   Somewhere in the middle is where we spend a lot of our days.  I needed these songs.  I doubt I'm alone...

I'm at the finishing stages with "In My Youth, I'm Getting Old..."  She's about to be out of my hands and into yours.  Treat her well.  It wasn't easy to get her here, believe me.  Someday I'll tell the whole story, but for now just know I love her and always will.  I gave her my best and I hope it was enough...