x-x-x-x-x. ron english

TwentyFive/August/Five

Yo iLL Chemist, know you been writing us on MySpace. Ain’t had time to go there. What with record coming out October 4th; it’s insane. In-fucking-sane. We don’t even write music any more. Writing THIS is a guilty, self sabotaging crime when there’s… People look at our tour dates and are like, “damn, i’m jealous.” Not noticing the week and a half in California where Mad Happy and Zef Noi$e will be eating soy butter (a close relative to mortar) on the curbside if something doesn’t change quick.

But things usually come together. Just got to have as much faith as a poppy seed, or a drop of acid or something. And the diciplin to open your email and work for two hours sending mail before downloading and getting caught up in the inflow. So easy to be the fool tryin’a do everything as it comes up: Oh shit - got to submit to these ayeholes; they need the lyrics and MP3’s; gotta type the lyrics; need to burn .. er, “rip” the MP3’s; shit - need to burn a disc first; no blank discs; run to radio shack and shop for best way to get ONE disc; back to the ‘puter; bla bla bla…before you know it it’s been your whole morning (whatever the fuck morning is) and you ain’t done the first thing you started out to ‘cause of one email. ‘N it’s constant.

Then the whole food thing. Eatin’ even remotely healthee is like…

So we gotta promote the shows, book the shows, get the posters to the clubs and stores…Fuck kids… no; get to it in a minute… mail the package to the folks thats sending to college radio, prepare the going away party for Honey, who leaves for Air Force bootcamp on Tuesday, get directions to the club in Ithaca tomorrow (really must develop system for KEEPING directions to these spots), send 5 CDs to dude in Tucson from the Solace Brothers, email dude at the spot in NYC for the Nov show w/ the acts we have booked so we can secure the whole night nd not have some dumb grunge band from Long Island or some shit ruining the party (quick, finish booking the acts for that show), enter the contact info from the eight back-pocket business cards and paper scraps into the database. enter the info from the thick envelope FULL of business cards and paper scraps from yesterdays back pockets, contact these people, replace the software disc that got lost somewhere along with like 20 other dope music discs like Wu-Tang Clan and Peaches andn Gold Chains, file taxes for the last three or four years (enter the accounting into the computer first).

And that’s it. That’s the whole list. So we rock that out today and tomorrow leave for tour. Not so bad. Where the fuck does all this stress originate? Silly faeries. First just quick change the color scheme on this page, since you been seeing it for MONTHS. Thanks LG. POPaganda.

poh-pih. Mike iLL |

25/08/2005