Oh, Rock-and-Roll!

Ahoy, Ye TASPers!

I have impossible and immensely exciting news!
After long decades strumming in the bathtub for better acoustics,
and attempting to seduce young boys (ahem!), entire arboretums, grandparents
and the mailman with my siren songs, I have secured a very primitive
and unofficial chance to record my work in a college recording studio with
a dear old friend of mine who is majoring in sound engineering.

And I AM GOING TO DIE ABSOLUTELY!

I have been banjo-ing for days and days and things are finally coming
together in some earnest and silly form and I don't sound as terrible as I
once thought I would.

And! Lo and Behold, the spontaneity of the muses, a very strange and upbeat
and hilarious satire-song came pouring out of me this morning. I've spent the
afternoon improvising verses (and not writing any of them down or breaking out
the four-track, to my mother's great dismay,) and hopefully it will end up on the record.
It is quite possibly the best (and most light-hearted! Egad!) thing that has ever come
out of my mouth.

Which shall be sent, if at all possible (given that all goes well), to any of you so willing
to submit your ears to some Midwestern yammering. DO IT. I desire judgment, criticism,
comparisons to Dock Boggs & the illustrious Colin Meloy...

Oh, Sweet Dieu. It feels so wonderful to sing a funny song.

The subject material for the projected album
(I have been instructed to select only a few songs--)
will go something comme ça:

1. Death ("Maggots," dedicated to the State of St. Louis)
2. Death (song about Amelia Earhart)
3. Death (song about lost loves heartbreak steamy barnyard romances et. al)
4. Blasphemy & the Southern Baptist Church + Mockery of Jessi's Appalacian Roots
(The aforementioned ha-ha song)

GOD BLESS THE FAKE RECORDING INDUSTRY.

Wish me luck, yesyes?
5h00-8h00 tonight, and I sing!

And I hope that all is well with crises and colleges.
Again, again--we must believe that we will outlast all of these Bad Times.
We are FATED TO CHANGE THE WORLD, and n'er forget it!

Love So Very Dearly,
Your Favorite Almost-Troubadour.