Why Asperger's can be good (sometimes)... aka... eliminating wasted energy through routines...

What week is it? I think I missed last week, unless I didn't... Turns out when you don’t have a normal “day job” days are less defined by dates/days and more defined by events. Monday? Nope, day I have an audition at such-and-such. Tuesday? Not really, more like the day I have a couple meetings about podcast producing and have to put together sets for Friday’s show. Thursday? Oh, you mean the day I edit podcasts until I crash and fall asleep at 10pm (a.k.a. very early for me). You get the point. So, I (don’t) apologize if I missed a week. Also, I’m working on about three hours sleep, so forgive any errors, poor sentence structures, words that are… I don’t know, bad. You get it, right?

But this week, I’d like to talk about Asperger’s and how it can actually be a positive, especially for self-employed people who have to make lots of decisions daily that may impact their livelihood. Look, we all know making decisions, especially ones that could affect our income, is hard. Decision fatigue is a real thing. Sometimes we just want someone to tell us what to do. That’s the charm of a “day job.”

In a former life, I used to work at a paint store. It was kinda shitty, but paid enough to cover my expenses and worked well for me at the time. I would get up, ride the bus to work, people would tell me what they want and I would make it for them. Sounds simple, right? It was, mostly. It was the perfect job for a young, often hungover musician who stayed out way too late, and since he was just starting out, was often playing during weekday nights. I doubt an accounting firm would deal with me strolling in, unkempt and unshowered, with long hair and my dirty, paint covered clothes. OK, that last one was because of the job, but you get the idea. It was nice to not have to put together business plans, look at the 50-60 hours I would be working that week and start from scratch on how to fill them, wake up at 6am to go to local networking meetings (I do enjoy meeting my fellow small business owners, just not the 6am part…), and so on and so forth. I liked having someone tell me to stop and go eat lunch (which I often skip nowadays, though not intentionally). Even the clothes/uniform I had to wear was dictated to me.

Which brings me to my point: Asperger’s now helps me with some of this. I, like many with Asperger’s/Autism, am very into routines. You could say I love routines. Or, more accurately, that I need routines. LIKE I MENTIONED A FEW WEEKS AGO, I am a creature of habit. But, because of that, there are many little decisions I don’t have to make during a given day/week which helps me focus more energy on the bigger decisions and getting real work done. I’ll give you a few.

For instance, I eat the same thing every day for lunch (when I actually stop to eat it): 2 fried eggs, shredded roasted chicken (I get a whole chicken every Wednesday and Sunday since it’s $2 cheaper at my local Harris Teeter those days) and spinach, divided up between three corn tortillas (always from Mission, my favorite tortillas and chips in the world) and topped with salsa verde. It’s delicious, nutritious and I never have to think or waste time/energy on lunch. I am usually thinking about the second third of my day (the first third, 9am-1pm, is generally office/computer work, the second, 1-5pm, is usually meetings or podcast-related work, depending on the day, and the third, 6pm-12am, is going to shows/playing shows/general musician stuff) while cooking. Or, I’m thinking about a new song idea. Or, who I should follow up for booking shows. Again, not thinking about what I’m doing (cooking), but thinking about other business things that are more beneficial to me.

Same goes for clothes. I hate wasting time thinking about what to wear. Instead, I have two pairs of jeans, one nicer pair for when I wear dress shirts/jackets, and one pair for when I wear t-shirts. My dress shirts and t-shirts rotate. Whenever I wear/wash one, it goes to the bottom of the pile. I simply determine if this is a nice-pair-of-jeans event (show, fancy dinner, date or business meeting) or normal-pair-of-jeans event (pretty much everything else) and grab from the top of the appropriate pile of shirts. Done. Simple. My boots go with everything.

Same goes for scheduling. Mondays is all music, all day. Music emails/computer work/blog in the morning (sometimes this blog is late night fodder to keep it interesting), meetings and venue scouting/pitching/in-person follow-up in the afternoon, open mic at the Evening Muse at night. Wednesday is similarly set up. Tuesday and Thursdays are for office work, business planning and podcast-related work. Saturdays I try to set aside time to meet with friends and for brainstorming with my wife. Shows are the wild-card. Those could be any night of the week, but that’s why I schedule days but not my nights. Sundays are for cleaning the apartment and relaxing. I usually cook big dinners Thursdays and Sundays to give us leftovers for Friday and Monday, as I’m usually busy those evenings so I need something done up so my wife has something substantial to eat for dinner.

Which is another case in point, she works way harder and way more than me. She also makes more money and is much more successful than me (probably because she’s also much smarter than me). But, because of that, she has no capacity for normal life decisions like shopping or cooking, as she can't decide what/when/how she wants to make something. Her brain is fried from the hundreds of decisions/tasks she does every day. I’ve seen her have decision fatigue on what to wear. She factors in what we’re doing, who we’re meeting, where that’s going to be, will there be air conditioning on (she’s always cold), will she be mostly sitting or standing, will she be taking photos for social media, etc., etc. And she’s right to do that. She is the face of her business and has to present as such, and she should be comfortable. I’ve also seen her skip lunch because she couldn’t figure out what to make. She was just so exhausted from working/making decisions that one more decision just wasn’t going to happen.

The other benefit of Aspergian routines, is that it takes the fear/anxiety/dread out of tough decisions or actions. Don’t want to spend the day in a new town introducing your music to new people/venues trying to get booked? Too bad, that’s what you do on Monday and Wednesday afternoons. Don’t want to step in front of 100 people and pitch your music and podcast businesses? Too bad, that’s what you do on Wednesday mornings. (For the record, I love anytime a room full of people have to listen to me talk, or play. But, I know that’s not everyone’s cup of tea. Waking up before 8am is the hardest part for me.) Hate sitting in front of a computer sending out follow up emails and tracking those in an excel spreadsheet? Me too, but that’s what I do most Wednesday and Friday afternoons.

Unfortunately, eating the same things every day doesn’t work for most people. Wearing the same things over and over doesn’t work for most people. Most people like to choose their clothes and dress up. Most businesses don’t allow for doing the same things on the same days. I get it. But, all of this is to say, sometimes having Asperger’s is pretty damn awesome. It’s not when my wife is mad at me for reacting emotionally inappropriately to something or someone, but it can be for helping keep my brain free from clutter and away from spending energy making insignificant decisions.

(dictated but not read)

Titles are hard... aka... no they're not, I'm just tired and kinda drunk... Top 7 random songs I'm listening to tonight

So, as I sit here sipping my Evan Williams Bonded (being a musician doesn’t often afford you the good stuff, so this is the best I can do for now. Which, all things considered, Evan Williams White Label is a pretty damn good $12 bourbon) after a long night of music at the Evening Muse (read: it’s late. Like 1am right now), I have the urge to drink and listen to some really random music that’s still on my iTunes from like fucking sixth grade until I fall asleep on the couch, then drag my dead-ass tired butt to bed. Some people call these guilty pleasures, but I’m not ashamed to say I love a single one, so I guess they’re just “random pleasures.” Which sounds like a sex toy shop. Anyways, since I had to write a blog anyways, let’s do this together.

Now, to be sure, I am not ashamed of liking any of these tunes. Some of them I play personally when I’m drunk (but not too drunk to forget the chords or the lyrics) or add to party playlists to see if the room is as cool as I am (they rarely are) with some really random shit. I’m not totally sure where this may go, but I’ll at least get you started on my first five or so tunes. Fuck it, let’s go!

1) “You Only Get What You Give” - New Radicals

This is often a jumping off point for me on nights like this. I fucking love this song. I may have posted about how much I love this song and the weird, mall-inspired music video but I cannot contain how much this song makes me feel good. That sentence doesn’t really make sense but you get the point. Bonus points to the guy for having a massive hit, realizing he hated the music industry (in ‘98 or ‘99 no less, when they were still at least investing in artists…), getting sick of being asked to write “You Only Get What You Give,” the sequel and quitting while he was ahead. Not everyone wants to be Smash Mouth…

2) “My Favourite Game” - The Cardigans

I know I’ve posted this before sometime, but who gives a shit. This is about what I’m listening to tonight and this is currently on. There’s a lot of pressure to say something profound in the four minutes before a new song song starts. I have nothing like that to say now. So, I’ll just remind everyone that I found this song via Gran Tourismo 2 for the original Playstation. My buddy and I would stay up all night playing it so we’d inevitably hear this song more than a few times. I might love it via Stockholm Syndrome but either way, it’s on and I’m singing along (quietly, as it’s 1:08am currently). Speaking of video games, if you want a truly scary experience, play the original Silent Hill video game with the sound off and Jimi Hendrix’s “Electric Ladyland” playing in the background. Maybe we were just beyond exhaustion but that was a truly terrifying experience. Without the game sounds, everything scared us twice as bad as it should have. Why am I talking about video games? Damn you, Cardigans!

3) “Give It Away” - The Red Hot Chili Peppers

“What I got you gotta give it to your mama…” “What I got you got to get it put it in you…” Yep, those are both in the first verse so you know what you’re getting yourself into with this one. Man, RHCP used to be so weird and badass. The video, just fucking weird… I was such a huge fan of these guys. I owned every record (thank you BMG music group! 12 for the price of 1, cancel membership, rinse and repeat!) and played the shit out of them. I wanted to be John Frusciante, minus the heroin addiction, of course. It’s weird, I always wanted to be a singer but since I had no natural talent for it, I wanted desperately to be a bluesy-funky-rock guitar player. And I was until I ran out of people to play with and found it was easier to be on my own. I had started writing songs when I was 17 but they were fucking terrible and stayed that way until I was, what, maybe 22 or 23. But what magical life insights is a 19 year old supposed to have. I had decent tunes, but the lyrics were shit and made no sense. Plus, at the time I was obsessed with Bob Dylan, so everything was so esoteric, or standard folk fare. Topics included John the Baptist, saints, poets with bells in their shoes, fortune teller’s maids, princes and paupers, trains, but most of all, ramblin’. Why are we talking about this? My train of thought has rambled on… Ha!

4) “Killing in the Name” - Rage Against the Machine

If this isn’t one of the greatest songs ever, I don’t know what is. Needless to say, 12 year old Bradley was very righteous and angry. This was right around the time of the George W. and Al Gore presidential race, then came the unjustified war with Iraq after 9/11 and the first time I was hearing about what the police were doing to black people across the country via Dave Chappelle’s HBO comedy special “Killing Them Softly.” I got a subscription to TIME magazine shortly thereafter to start to learn about these things. Shortly thereafter, I realized TIME magazine was kinda bullshit (Bob Dylan was right in “Don’t Look Back”). But, most of all, when you’re 12 and someone is shouting “Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me!” you’re going to fall in love, hard… But, even after all that, I still had to be talked out of joining the military when I graduated High School. I was so impacted by 9/11 (like so many others) that I felt I had to enlist. But, by the time I could, the war was long over and everyone had already realized it was kind of a mistake (read: huge clusterfuck). So, I slowly changed my mind back to becoming a Rock Star, which I am, but the just a barely scraping by kind of Rock Star. I’d like to drink Woodford Reserve but I’m an Evan Williams level star…

5) “Father of Mine” - Everclear

This song still makes me bleary eyed. Not teary, but bleary for sure. There was a time when I thought Art Alexakis was writing songs just for me. “Father of Mine” and “I Will Buy You a New Life” sounded just like this poor, small-town boy who never really knew his dad/drug addict/abusive/compulsive liar/hopefully dead person and who grew up on bologna sandwiches and Hamburger Helper. I have to say though, I feel sort of blessed to grow up in the time and place and how I did. There was lots of love from my mother and sister (and eventually, my brother) and I learned to not need much beyond that. It’s a good lesson for those trying to make a career out of music or anyone who feels like they are missing out because of a lack of money. It also makes it easier to appreciate the things I do have and that I have the ability to make music for a living. 12 year old Bradley never would have dreamed of making records, hearing those records on the radio and playing hundreds of shows to people who like his music. 12 year old Bradley couldn’t know the sense of honor and pride he would feel when a soldier returning from a tour of duty would tell him his music helped him, a true American hero, make it through the tough times. 12 year old Bradley couldn’t imagine how cool it would be to jump into the crowd and dance with a group of deaf people who liked the way his music made them feel so much they came to his rock n’ roll show to let loose and have a good time. Sometimes poor, rural kids can do great things, even if it doesn’t mean making tons of money. Money can’t buy those things. But I feel I appreciate them more because of how I was raised…

Wow, I’m way off topic now. But, there’s a line in “I Will Buy You a New Life” that goes “they have never been poor, they have never had the joy of a welfare Christmas” that always kills me. One of my favorite Christmas memories was the year we didn’t have much after moving to Horicon, WI (Marshmen for life! Just kidding…) and my sister and I made a board game as a family Christmas present. It was called “Race to the Presents” I think. I got a Bible with my name on it, which is one of the few things I’ve kept with me through all the moves over the years. Playing our homemade board game and cracking open that Bible for the first time are memories I will never forget. Store bought gifts come and go, but there’s an undeniable beauty in appreciating the things that matter so much more.

6) “My Own Prison” - Creed

I know what you’re thinking, “How the fuck can anyone listen to fucking Creed? Seriously, Bradley, fucking Creed?! Really?!” Well, let me explain. I had a friend growing up whose father was a pastor. He wasn’t allowed to listen to most music as it was the work of the devil. I vividly remember him telling me, once I had started playing music, that any music that wasn’t in praise of God (or Jesus, if that’s your bag) was the devil’s work. I can never erase the memory of him playing Pearl Jam’s cover of “Last Kiss” and basing a whole sermon on how it was poison for people and a great example of what music shouldn’t be. What the fuck?! At least use the Frank Wilson and the Cavaliers version for christ’s sake. Don’t blame Pearl Jam for a cover song they recorded for a fucking benefit CD for refugees. But, he did allow anything that was so-called “christian” so Third Eye Blind and Creed were OK. So, we spent a lot of time listening to that first Creed record and I learned to like it since it was the best we could do. Although, it is funny to note that when his parents would leave, we would instantly put on Dio’s “Holy Diver” album and blast it as loud as we wanted to; there was nothing but cornfields surrounding his house and sing along to every word. Not exactly christian music, but tell a teenager he can’t do something and he’ll probably do it the most extreme version possible…

OK, we can’t end on a fucking Creed song, so one more.

7) “Don’t Cry” - Guns N’ Roses

Setting apart the fact that the video is quite sexist and sometimes hard to watch, and that Axl has sang/said some pretty racist shit, this song murders. Guns N’ Roses was so fucking good. I was watching a David Bowie documentary earlier tonight and it’s amazing how many songs he released before finally having a hit. Guns N’ Roses started with fucking “Appetite for Destruction” (“Paradise City,” “Welcome to the Jungle” and fucking “Sweet Child O’ Mine” all from one album) and then made “Use Your Illusion” parts I and II which were both fucking fantastic. I’m not sure how they came out of the gate so strong but I imagine cocaine was involved. Cocaine’s a hell of a drug…

It’s approaching Elliott Smith time (aka 2:45 in the morning) as I took a short break for a snack and came back to writing this. I hope you enjoyed the random walk through Bradley’s mind. See you next week!

(dictated but not read)

Meniere's disease and Asperger's team up to fuck with Bradley... aka... just another Wednesday night...

Well, unfortunately, Meniere’s happened again…

So menacing, right? What happened? How bad was it? You weren’t playing music at the time, were you? Not in front of an audience though, right?

Yes. Vertigo attack. 7 out of 10. And yes, I was playing at the time. Yes, it was in a public setting.

I’m not sure what it is about shows that can trigger it from time to time, but it’s been probably six months since I last had any Meniere’s issues. For those unfamiliar with Meniere’s, it is an inner-ear disorder that results in tinnitus, hearing loss, “stuffy ear” feelings, which then cause balance problems and, if it’s bad enough, like it was this past week, full on, room-spinning, nausea-inducing vertigo; which, can sometimes trigger my Asperger’s brain to short-circuit and leads me to fully shut down (read: temporary paralysis), which is horrifying and even more panic-inducing than the whole vertigo thing, which can sometimes be a good thing as once my paralysis faded (about twenty or so minutes later) my brain was no longer focused on the vertigo so that got better (slowly, but still) as a result. See, sometimes awful things can have positive effects.

But, of course, I was playing music. I was done for the evening but things wrapped up early (when does that ever happen in musical situations?) and I got to go sing some more. I got up to go to the bathroom and something felt off. My head was not right. One and half glasses of wine over nearly 3 hours doesn’t do that. Hmm, I thought but brushed it off. Maybe it was the wine-americano-wine combo. I was tired and the caffeine sounded good. Maybe it was being outside in the warmer weather for a few hours. Maybe it was all of the above. It probably was all of the above, who am I kidding? Regardless, I was like “whatever, I’ve played through some dizziness/light-headedness before. No big deal.” 

I got my guitar out and started to tune up (or check the tuning as my trusty Martin D-15 rarely goes out of tune). My vision was suddenly not what it should be. It wasn’t blurry but I could tell it wasn’t right. Was I nervous? That would be weird. Why would I be nervous? I’d already played earlier and did well. I was singing with Brianne and everything was sounding great. It was a cool spot and the sound was good, so why did I suddenly feel an impending doom?

As I walked towards the stage, the dizziness really set in. I was suddenly thinking “one foot in front of the other. Just keep going.” The guitar cord was underneath the mic stand foot, but I couldn’t get myself to bend over and get it loose. I wanted to make a joke about the song, but didn’t for some reason. I started playing and I could tell the tempo wasn’t right. I couldn’t keep it steady. I started to sing but I felt tone-deaf. I didn’t know where I needed to be and I couldn’t fix it anyways. My right ear felt like someone jammed in an ear plug and pushed it way too far in. Just get through it. I wished I was not singing with someone else at that moment because there are tricks you can do when your pitch isn’t quite right but I’d have to change up how I sang the song and there’s no way Brianne would be able to follow along if I started switching things up on the fly. Just get through it. I considered just stopping and walking off. But no, just get through it. I got to a break in the song where a guitar solo would normally be and tried to play it up to the crowd a bit but I felt like was gonna fall over. I could barely make eye contact with Brianne. Just get through it. Finally, the big ending to the song. I think I hit a couple of the big finishing notes sorta OK enough to make people forget how terrible the rest may have been. Maybe, maybe not, but at least it was over. I nearly fell down the stage steps while walking off. I could get my guitar into its case for some reason. It took about a minute or two to just set it in there and latch it closed. By now, I knew what was happening and what was coming.

I didn’t want to be a dick and just walk out as there was another singer up there for a couple tunes. I sat and tried to not look like I was gonna pass out at any moment (though I wish that was an option vs. the 3 or 4 hours of vertigo). As soon as they wrapped up, I thanked everyone and made a quick exit. I got home, got a glass of water and immediately felt nauseous. I had to turn off the ceiling fan as the whole ceiling was already spinning enough for me. Over the next hour it got worse and worse. I couldn’t move or it somehow got even worse. Then, after probably an hour or two (who knows?) the paralysis set in. I couldn’t move. I was thinking “this is easy, just move your fingers” but I couldn’t. My brain had shut everything down. It was overwhelmed and gave up. OK, this has happened before, I thought to myself. But, that quickly gave way to panic. What if it doesn’t come back this time? It didn’t last this long last time, did it? I can’t deal with this AND vertigo right now, can’t one of you fuck off for a bit?

As you can tell by my having typed this out, my muscles slowly came around. Funnily enough, and this has never been the case before, but it was actually my asshole that saved me this time. I felt nauseous and though I might shit myself and when a fart (or poop, I don’t know) was about to come out I was able to clench my asshole. I did it again to make sure it was under my control. It was. Since I could do that, could I wiggle my fingers? I could! Suddenly, it all came back to me. Thank fucking god! And since that had dominated my brain for the past half hour, my vertigo was on the decline. I still couldn’t sit up or move that much but I didn’t feel like I was gonna die at any moment anymore. Another hour later and I could sit up and drink some water. I was massively dehydrated by this time. And exhausted. So exhausted. But I still couldn’t close my eyes for more than a minute without getting super dizzy again.

Another 30-60 minutes (again, who knows at this point..) and I was able to stand up. I was able to go get some more water and walk back without running into things. It felt great. I slept until 1pm the next day. Still a little foggy and not feeling 100% until about 8 or 9pm that next night.

Sounds fun, right? Well, hopefully this means I’m good for the next six months or so (knocks on wood) but we’ll see. Isn’t it awesome when my Meniere’s and my Asperger’s work together to fuck with me royally?

So, anyways, if you see me playing a show and it sounds like I’ve forgotten how to sing and I look like I can barely stand up, I’m not just wasted beyond belief. I wouldn’t waste my or the audiences time with that nonsense. It turns out, I could be struggling horribly. So, be kind, accepting and buy lots of merch to cheer me up…

(dictated but not read)

The hardest part of moving? Learning a new grocery store, of course... aka the wonderful world of Asperger's meltdowns...

There’s something wonderful about being exhausted. Not emotionally, of course, like I was for years living out in Portland, OR, but physically. Like having spent the past couple weeks going out every single night and meeting and talking with people to try and figure out this new city (Charlotte, for those not keeping score at home). For an Aspergerian man such as myself, meeting, talking to and constantly being around people is tiring. It’s hard to do. It’s work. But, it’s also invigorating to have new people to meet, new places to see, new weird, half-extremely-gentrified neighborhoods (looking at you, NODA) to explore and new music to hear. It’s fun to feel like my life has a purpose again, like I have something to wake up for each day. Sure, I’ve been playing music the past couple years (and making AWESOME MUSIC VIDEOS), but not aggressively and constantly like I’m used to. It’s weird to go a month without performing, which I did many times over recently. It doesn’t feel right. I didn’t feel like me. It was weird to feel like I was playing someone else but I was. Bradley Wik doesn’t sit at home on a Friday night. Friday night is for the drinkers, after all. But, I let my Aspergian impulses get the better of me. I was so burned out and angry at the Portland, OR music scene (and for good reason, it’s terrible…) that I had relegated myself to writing and doing home recordings. I have 2 albums that I will be releasing next year plus the remnants for an awesome B-sides EP or the beginnings of another album. I’ve delved deep into learning about and exploring my Asperger’s. One of the albums is explicitly for those who suffer from it or those wanting to hear what it feels/sounds like to live with it. That album also dabbles with my Meniere’s disease (an inner ear disorder affecting hearing, balance and vision), sprinkling in some wonderfully depressing sounds to help articulate Meniere’s for those lucky enough to not know what it’s like. As you can probably infer, it’s an upbeat, poppy record… Oh wait…

But, if you did actually think that, you’re in luck! The other album is what has been lovingly referred to by the few who have heard demos as Folk-Synth-Space-Pop. Which seems to be pretty damn accurate if I say so myself. It’s not a genre yet, but I’m sure I’ll make it one. So I have that going for me, which is nice…

But, what I really wanted to discuss this evening is one of the hardest things for an Asperger’s to do: go to a new grocery store.

Going to the grocery store is a weekly or bi-weekly (as in twice a week, not once every two weeks. Why didn’t they come up with a different prefix for those two? English is fucking stupid sometimes…) event that becomes routine; very routine if you have Asperger’s (at least for me, not speaking for everyone here). Routines are good for me. They ground me and give me purpose. I love doing things spontaneously, so long as I planned on being spontaneous first. There are so many nights I’ve ruined because we didn’t do what we had planned to do (even if I didn’t really want to do it to begin with). I get grumpy, aggravated, short with those around me and just generally difficult to be around. I may actually think the new plan is better, but I hate when my expectations are changed without warning, and without my control. I’ll change plans regularly but if someone else does, god forbid. So, needless to say, going to the grocery store needs to be simple, on my schedule and without surprises.

Which, having moved to a new city with new grocery stores (still owned by Kroger, but still), I had to, and still am adjusting to. Let me explain how infuriating, confusing, frustrating and debilitating this can be. When I lived in Portland, I went to Trader Joes. Every week, almost always on Friday, I would go. I had the area of the lot I liked to park in. I had my route through the store mapped out. I had my staples and variables and their locations memorized for ease of purchasing. I bought almost the exact same things every single week: sourdough bread, blueberries, broccoli, avocados, almond milk (damn you, lactose-intolerance!), eggs, tortilla chips, chicken tenderloins (for making Bradley’s famous fried chicken), ground beef, ground turkey, boneless salmon, turkey cold cuts, Trader Joes habanero salsa, mayonnaise, polenta (until I got food poisoning from eating it), rice and Louis Jadot Beaujolais; in that order. Fucking literally. Go to the Trader Joe’s on SE 39th just off Holgate and you’ll see the route I took based on that food. In the doors, down the right into produce, to the back wall with the meat, skipping the middle aisles and hitting the last aisle before the wine section. Occasionally, I would venture out and buy some cashews or some shit, but that was it. Every week or every other week when stuff would back up and I’d have extra. But that’s what I bought and ate for years. I like it. I knew where everything was and how much it cost and what meals I could make with it. Things were good. But there’s no Trader Joes near my house anymore… So…

Now, it’s Harris Teeter. It’s right across the street, which is convenient, but it’s different. Different brands, different layout, different prices, different everything. At first, I was excited to find new foods and try new things. Two weeks ago I got so frustrated I left my cart and walked out. I just wanted my stuff. You know, the same stuff I had eaten for years. But, here it was hard to find and it more expensive and there wasn’t salmon and I couldn’t find the almond milk (damn you, back corner!). I don’t even remember what exactly triggered it but I had a mini-meltdown (not a full-blown, hard-to-breathe, pulling my hair and squeezing my head with my fists meltdown). I just remember wandering and looking and trying to read the stupid aisle signs to figure out what I was missing, going from one side all the way to the other, not finding what I wanted and becoming increasingly hostile. There wasn’t one thing that set me off but I started shaking and sweating, was cursing up a storm to myself and wanted to scream. I wanted to trash the frozen food aisle which I ended up in somehow and punch someone in the face. I was so mad I almost put my fist through a glass door by the ice cream. Instead, I just left. I had a frozen pizza at home so I could make that and try again tomorrow when I was in a better headspace. The whole episode feels like an oncoming storm. At first the clouds roll in, the wind picks up and a light rain starts to fall. Soon, the sky turns black, the wind becomes loud and violent, my eyes fire the lightning bolts and the thunder echoes so loudly in my brain that I need to do something to release it. Sounds become garbled. My vision narrows. I struggle to unclench my jaw. Words fail me. My face turns red and my breathe becomes labored. My brain feels like it has swelled up and won’t fit into my skull, instead pushing at my skull to release its constraints and let it out. Suddenly, my day is ruined.

But, I also I did the same thing at Target. And most Targets are the same anyways, but I was just trying to find breathe right strips (damn you, sleep apnea!) and a decent toilet plunger (damn you, low flow toilet!). I tried the bathroom area, the kitchen area and everywhere in between. Turns out plungers are in the pharmacy section towards the end, just past the men’s shaving stuff by laundry soap. I still don’t know where the fuck breathe right strips are. I haven’t gone back to that Target since. Fuck it. Don’t put shit in logical places then fuck you. There’s a million other places to buy household shit. So, fuck off Target. We’re through…

On the flipside, I’m so fucking pumped to be in Charlotte, NC. Everyday, I wake up and feel energized. I feel new. It feels good to feel new. Except when it impedes my grocery shopping…

(dictated but not read)

Top 5 Neil Young (and all-time) albums aka... well, I guess that's the whole title. There's not much more to say, really...

Last week we covered Spinal Tap and my favorite live shows from the shitty city of Portland, OR. This week, I would like to discuss my favorite Neil Young albums. Neil Young is an artist that I hated, and I mean HATED, when I was first really getting into music, whenever that was. 12 or 13 maybe? Prior to that, the only things I cared about were playing baseball, watching the Milwaukee Brewers (or listening to Mr. Baseball call the games on the radio) and the Green Bay Packers. Anyways, I couldn’t stand the guy. I thought he was a mediocre guitar player and an awful singer. An OK songwriter maybe (I had a friend who was obsessed with “Heart of Gold” so it was eventually beat into me as a pretty song), but not worth spending my hard-earned lawn mowing and chore money on.

As I got more into Rock N’ Roll music, I started to come around. I saw Pearl Jam and Neil play the fuck out of “Rockin’ in the Free World” on MTV; you know, back when “Music Television” had music on it or something. What a concept! But, hell, if Neil was good enough for Eddie Vedder and the gang, he was good enough for me. I got a bootleg (via Napster or Limewire, can’t remember, back when you would set up like five downloads and go to bed just hoping they would be done before you woke up or the internet crashed/was interrupted) of “Weld” and my life was changed. As soon as “Hey Hey, My My” kicked in, I was fucking hooked. As we rolled through “Fuckin’ Up,” “Rockin’ in the Free World” and “Tonight’s the Night” I fell in love. OK, so Neil could rock the fuck out and play some pretty mean guitar. Hell, he could even sing a little better than I gave him credit for. OK, Fine. He’s fucking awesome and maybe I was too quick to judge.

But, I was so sick of hearing “Needle and the Damage Done” on classic rock radio that it soured me on the whole “Harvest” album, which my buddy played incessantly. Which was a shame since “A Man Needs a Maid,” “Are You Ready for the Country” and “Alabama” are fucking killer tunes. Unfortunately, I would come to know a few people whose lives were either taken or ruined by heroin. Suddenly, the song didn’t seem so stupid. Suddenly, I didn’t hate it. Suddenly, but sadly, it made sense…

But, take a look at my top Neil Young albums and you still won’t see “Harvest” on it. It may have been the one that catapulted him into a new level of stardom and became the thing the record label would ride him to recreate leading to him making some shit-ass fucking albums to fulfill his contract, but I would probably rank it maybe 6th best for Mr. Young. Anyways, take a look at the list below and get mad, agree or whatever it is that you do when you read a list of things.

5) Weld

I know, Live albums aren’t technically albums in a sense, but it was an official release and it was the first thing that made me love Neil and his music, so there has to be bonus points for that. “Fuckin’ Up” and “Rockin’ in the Free World” make this worth the price of admission alone and became staples in my High School band’s repertoire.

4) After the Gold Rush

“Only Love Can Break Your Heart” has to be in my top 25 favorite songs. Well, maybe, there’s a lot of Springsteen songs up there on that list. Top 40 I’d bet. But still, that would be good enough to place this album pretty high but then you throw in the title track, “Don’t Let it Bring You Down,” “Tell Me Why” and “I Believe In You” then just, come the fuck on. How could I leave this one off the list?

3) Everyone Knows This Is Nowhere

Obviously, “Cinnamon Girl,” “Down by the River” and “Cowgirl in the Sand” make this record a classic but I love the in between songs so much. Maybe not cover them during my live shows good (I only do maybe 3 or 4 Neil Young songs total these days) but this record has such a fun fucking vibe. It also sports my 2nd favorite Neil Young album cover. It just looks like a fucking fun record to put on. It’s one of my most played vinyl albums since I love the feeling this record gives me when it’s on and how much I love to stare at the fucking cover. But, it’s still only my third most listened to vinyl album behind…

2) On the Beach

I’ve heard (and I’ll listen) to arguments that this could be #1. Every song is a fucking killer on this album. The amount of sadness packed into a record rarely gets this extreme. I love every fucking moment. The way he converts sadness to beauty in the form of song on this album is absolutely incredible. There’s not a moment I would take off or wish was on here. It’s as close to a perfect statement as can be made. There’s upbeat, but still depressing rockers (my songwriting wheelhouse, if I may say so and I may since this is my fucking blog), beautifully sad downbeat tunes and not one, not two, but three tunes with the word “blues” in the title and there could be a fourth as the title track could easily be “On the Beach Blues” given the tune. This could easily be anyone else’s greatest achievement except Neil somehow outdid himself on…

1) Tonight’s the Night

It’s a perfect record. It’s magnificently gorgeous while it wallows in its angry depression. This is the album of immense sadness and anger. Whereas “On the Beach” is sad and reflective, “Tonight’s the Night” is sad and fucking pissed off at the world. There’s an energy that’s nearly impossible to capture on tape, especially in a studio, that Neil and co. just fucking live in on this album. It sounds halfway between a mental breakdown and a band rehearsal. The looseness and not give-a-fuck-ness (which inspired pieces of on my latest album “In My Youth, I’m Getting Old…”) are off the charts. Indeed, I’ve heard these songs were basically “jammed” in the studio live and put out (remember Neil’s one record per year contract…) and they couldn’t have existed in another form. Months in the studio couldn’t have replicated the vibe, the sadness, the energy, the raw beauty of these tunes. Some things are best to not overthink, and this record wasn’t even thought to begin with. It just is, in all it’s raging glory. I, no joke, probably listen to this album once a week. I used to wonder what my #5 all-time album was. It vacillated between Damien Rice’s “O,” Johnny Cash’s “Live at San Quentin" and Jimi Hendrix’s “Bold as Love.” Well, the top five are officially:

Bruce Springsteen - Born to Run

Bruce Springsteen - Darkness on the Edge of Town

Bob Dylan - Blood on the Tracks

Bob Dylan - Blonde on Blonde

Neil Young - Tonight’s the Night

 

I know, a little boring but there’s been some movement over the years. “Blood on the Tracks” went from #2 to #3 and, well, I guess that’s it besides the aforementioned shifting of #5. With those officially locked in, I doubt I will ever make any changes for the rest of my life, unless somehow, “Tonight’s the Night” rises to #4 or, God forbid, #3. It’s unlikely but there are times I think it’s possible given how much I love that album these days. Tastes change over time but who knows. But, I’m guessing my Asperger’s brain has finally locked this into place and we’ll be done thinking about this for the rest of time. Though, I did used to hate bleu cheese which I now love, so…

(dictated but not read)

Spinal Tap and my favorite live shows from Portland... aka... another weird Monday list...

OK, so I have a couple topics to discuss this week: the best/my favorite Spinal Tap songs and my favorite shows from my time in Portland, OR (which is not as expansive as you might think. Turns out there’s lots of venues, but not a lot of great one, and not a lot of great music in the city of Portland. College towns are better for mid-level artists. You know, the ones who are famous enough that we’ve heard of them and they’ve played enough shows to be amazing but not too big to phone it in at some “enormodome” type venue). With more than one topic (since I forgot to post this last week, you know, because I was moving into a new apartment and exploring the music scene in Charlotte, NC; so, fuck you) to get to, and already 5 Elijah Craig bourbons in me, let’s “get on with it” Monty Python style.

 

So, here we go. Here are my favorite Spinal Tap songs:

1) GSM (aka “Gimme Some Money” for the uninitiated)

Why is this song #1? Well, you probably figured that I would fucking tell you, didn’t you? It’s #1 because it’s the #1 song I’ve played from this movie over the years. Just as Spinal Tap used it to soundcheck (in Milwaukee, WI, no less! Go Brewers! Despite the fact they have been eating a dick lately…) with it, so did my band. I’ve played or fucked around in rehearsal with this song so many times, it’s basically a Bradley Wik and the Charlatans song by now. In fact, the producer/engineer/mixer of my first album “Burn What You Can, Bury the Rest…,” Rob Stroup, used to also play this with his band. Kinda part of the reason I recorded with him. Kindred spirits/lovers of weird/funny shit.

 

2) Big Bottom

The fact that this song features not one, not two, but three basses plus the synth playing bass lines… Jesus fucking Christ. Maybe it’s only funny to musicians but I can’t imagine how terrible this sounded live. No frequency filling, just lots of bass harmonies, which shouldn’t be a fucking thing. So fucking funny and strange. Also, “My baby fits me like a flesh tuxedo. I’d like to sink her with my pink torpedo” might be the greatest couplet of all-time. Shakespeare ain’t got shit on Tap.

 

3) Sex Farm

Because.. Just because. The opening line is “Working on a Sex Farm…” What a ridiculous concept that even all the fucking jokes, which are awesome, seem to pale in comparison to this absolutely absurd premise. Also, the words “Sex Farm Woman.” Just, such geniuses who came up with this. The jokes about pitchforks, raising hard love, plowing wheat fields is all secondary to the immaculately genius idea of a “sex farm.”

 

4) Tonight, I’m Gonna Rock You Tonight

Umm, using the same word twice in the same title (and chorus) is amazing. I stand amazed by the fact that they say “not a dry seat in the house” in the first fucking line. The genius of these men cannot be overstated. Spinal Tap may be the greatest Rock N’ Roll band ever. Except for their “Shit Sandwich” album. I hear it’s not great…

 

Like the great Brett Favre, lists are better at 4, so we’ll stop there. But, honorable mention is definitely “Heavy Duty” for its’ use of the word “duty” which always makes me laugh. Especially the line “Heavy Duty brings out the dootie in my soul…”

 

OK, here are the greatest shows I saw while I lived in Portland, OR, which was more than a handful of years. Yes, that city sucks and I hate it more than anything in the world but I did see some amazing shows there, so below are the top 4. In any other city, I would have had to do a top 20, but in Portand, 4 will suffice. Even the performances of people I love like Ryan Adams, Wilco, the Hold Steady, etc. were less than spectacular due to the shitty crowds in Portland who are “too cool” to have fun at shows. Fuck that. Music is about communing in something that can’t be found anywhere else and can’t be experience outside that moment. I’ve watched Bruce Springsteen’s live at the Garden DVD probably 100 times and it didn’t even live in the same country from when I ACTUALLY saw the Boss at the Garden. Same for every other live DVD I own (and that’s lots). Anywhere, enough preamble, here you go":

 

1) Damien Rice - Keller Auditorium

Damien is the proud owner of 3 of my favorite all-time shows. For those keeping score at home, that includes all 3 times I’ve seen him live. The first time with a hundred or so people in Madison, WI on the inaugural stateside “O” tour. My buddy Jake kept making illicit comments about the girl dancing on the stage during the opening bands set, which turned out to be Lisa Hannigan. Turns out she’s pretty fucking gorgeous. We didn’t know back then…

 

The second time was in Chicago during the “9” tour. He was equally stunning. It’s hard as artists graduate to larger and less intimate stages to see if they can maintain their awesomeness. Damien did. He did in spades.

 

The third time in Portland, I took my girlfriend (at the time) who was skeptical at best to see this show. She was more interested in the opener Markéta Irglová (from the movie “Once,” and a real life band I hear…) before we arrived. She proceeded to be mesmerized by Damien (as we all were) and occasionally I still hear her talk about how “sexy” he was, especially on “Me, My Yoke and I.” I have to say, she isn’t wrong..

 

2) Joanna Newsom - Schnitzer Hall

This was on the “Divers” tour. Needless to say, my girlfriend (at the time) was equally not excited to Joanna. I assured her it would be amazing, but had to almost force her to attend. You can always tell a great concert when two people who are really into each other (sexually) don’t speak or even look at one another for almost two hours. I actually forgot I bought a drink and it sat there half-drank for two hours until we left and I realized I paid $12 for a shitty whiskey and promptly poured it down my throat. But, it was the second time in a year that I totally blew her mind with a live show recommendation. Though, the flipside of that is that she didn’t want to come out to many more shows since nothing would compare to Joanna and the kind himself, Damien. Fair…

 

3) Bonnie “Prince” Billy - McMenamin’s Crystal Ballroom 

It was the first time I ever got to see Will live. I had spent years living in areas he rarely toured, moving during a tour and missing the shows in both my new and old living places, and generally playing geographical “phone tag” with the man responsible for some of my favorite albums (“I see a darkness,” “Viva Last Blues,” and “Days in the Wake”). Finally, I got a hold of him. Yes, it was at one of my least favorite Portland venues. You know, the kind that sections off the front of stage area for minors and makes people drink in the back (Fuck you Berbati’s and re-opened Satyricon as well; both of which closed down shortly after I played them… The Jon Fickes curse continues…). But, the show was wonderful and to finally see my man Mr. Oldham was a treat. He’s a much better singer than he lets on and his band was amazing. Sure, they didn’t play many Palace era tunes, but this was like 10 years later so I’ll forgive him since he did indulge us in more than a couple “I see a darkness” tunes.

 

4) Shonen Knife - Dante’s

#4 was tough as there were a lot of great bands I saw in Portland, but were better at the shows I witnessed elsewhere (read: Ryan Adams, Wilco, the Hold Steady, Modest Mouse, etc.). Land of Talk or Helle’s Belles (the all-girl AC/DC tribute band) are my runners-up but it’s hard to top the random awesomeness of Shonen Knife. First, that night had started strange. My girlfriend, my buddy and his wife all went to this hipster fucking 90’s club because we wanted to get fucked up and sweaty dancing to ridiculous tunes (and hoping against hope that somehow, some way, they would play the Prodigy) but they kicked out my buddy because he was “drunk and couldn’t talk straight,” aka because he had one beer and he was born and raised in Scotland. Also, he had lived for over 10 years in America and his accent wasn’t that crazy, until about 8 more drinks. But since we got thrown out of the shitty hipster club, we wandered over towards Dante’s. Well, actually we were headed to Kell’s or that underground place that had cheap drinks and welcomed drunks when we decided to stop at Dante’s for some pizza by the slice. We hears some strange punk coming from inside. The show had already started so the bouncer let us in for free (after we explained what had happened at the other club). On stage were these three Japanese girls fucking rocking out and singing about how much they liked green tea. Needless to say, we were hooked. We got a Ramones cover shortly thereafter and we fell in love. I’m not sure how much of the show we missed but we still got to see an hour of their set and it was fucking magnificent. Fucking magnificent. I’ve been obsessed ever since.

It’s funny thinking back on the shows and how I’ve seen better shows in Seattle, Salem, Eugene and Spokane during my time in Portland, but the above were my favorite 4 in the city of Portland. An amazing group of performers trying their best to make a Portland crowd not be a bunch of fucking dicks and actually enjoy themselves for once…

 

(dictated but not read)

 Two Words: Shit Sandwich

apologies are in order, or they would be if I WASN'T MOVING ACROSS THE FUCKING COUNTRY... aka Greetings from North Carolina!

I know, I know. I've been gone for two (or is it three?) weeks and you've suddenly realized how indispensable I am to your life. I, for better or worse, realized how much I actually like doing this blog, or weekly ranting/venting, however you like to frame it. But, alas, life moves pretty fast sometimes and I needed to stop and smell the roses before they passed me by. Oh, and I was busy going through, throwing out, selling, donating, burning, packing up into boxes then packing into a 7'x7'x7' POD (sorry, Relocube. U-pack, baby!) and figuring out how the fuck to fit the rest of what I needed/couldn't fit into the POD, sorry, Relocube (which was significantly less than I anticipated as waaayyy more fits into a 7'x7'x7' space than one would think), into the back of my car, which, by the way, I had to very quickly find as my previous car was suddenly unavailable to me. So, that was one week. Well, two pretty much, I guess, if I'm being honest. Turns out I had a lot of shit and I needed to clean house. I was so used to moving every couple years, and therefore, purging every couple years that I never really accrued "things." I just had a couple guitars, an amp and my Horicon Marshmen embroidered (says "Brad Wik" on the side pocket) gym bag that I got for being on the fourth grade basketball team filled with all my clothes/notebooks/etc. That was usually it. I would media mail any books, CD's (remember those? I do, turns out even though I've lost about 200-300 over the years, I still have about 600 or so; and that's not counting the 500 or so I have left of my first two albums, which I will be working hard to sell now that I'm out of the fucking black hole of a music scene most people call "Portland, OR") and DVD's (remember those? I do, turns out I have approx 350 or so. God, did I like to waste my money, and living space, on physical media... Oh, and speaking of taking up living space, I still have 200-300 of my vinyl records to sell too, which are in nice, carpeted Odyssey DJ storage boxes and have become part of my furniture, like TV stand and side table, until I find 200-300 new fans who still enjoy vinyl) and that was that. Simple. After 8-9 years in Portland (blech), I accrued slightly more "stuff." PA equipment, more guitars, my aforementioned CD's/albums for sale, T-shirts, etc. It all adds up very quickly and my back has been more or less sore for about three weeks now. I did get a Bear Mattress with Celiant technology (look it up, it's science and Tom Brady likes it) which is helping but I could still use some recovery time. Luckily, there's a pile of boxes staring at me right now from my new Charlotte-based apartment which need putting away. Wait, that's not lucky. Fuck...

Anyways, buried the lede. I'M IN FUCKING CHARLOTTE, NC NOW! That's right folks, I've moved all the way across the country and I couldn't be happier. I've lost like five pounds, been sleeping better, drinking less, and generally just assuming a much more positive demeanor. In short, life is good. What a strange thing to say, but it's true. I haven't felt this way since I left New York City over nine years ago at this point. Yes, it's humid. Yes, it's not a huge metropolitan city like NYC, San Francisco, Chicago, Seattle, or any of the cities I've lived in before but I love it already. The people here (so far) are wonderful and I've felt a renewed energy towards making music again. I've even taken on producing a couple podcasts for work. I saw lightning for the first time in years last night. My apartment has central heating and cooling! Everything I need is within 10 minutes in any direction. Everyone I meet isn't in a fucking band. Beer tastes better (they're not all fucking Xtreme IPA's out here!). Burgers can be had for $5. There's ample places to play music where the people actually kind of give a shit. Weird Al is playing here this week! With a symphony!

I haven't unpacked my record player, CD player or speakers yet (Project Debut Carbon for those keeping score at home), nor do I currently own a chair (I'm currently kneeling on the floor whilst writing this) so it's still a work in progress but things are happening! I wanted to give a quick update since I've been gone for so long (has it been two or three weeks? For real, I can't tell time anymore) and here it is. I'll be back later this week with another blog to get things back up to speed but I finally unpacked my computer and felt the need to jump on here.

Talk soon,

(dictated but not read)