In The Beginning…

Ten Years Later; Ten Years Older….Ten Years Wiser: The Journey up till Now

By KC Shoen

ShoEnTeL Music




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These recordings date back to my very first time, as an adult artist, that I stepped into a professional studio to record my own music back in July 1999.

I was 29 then. I was three years out from my eight-year career as a Naval Photographer, my wife was pregnant with our first child, and I was still doing scrub work like construction, wherehouse work and forklift driving to support my family and my craft. I never wanted to be an Artist..at all. Producing was the focus in those days, and it was during a time when this was still a strong possibility to enter such a profession, and get a deal with a major to do only that. “Somber” was the lead ‘demo’ track that I had set to be the biggest example of what I bring, having hired Paul Mascoari , an old-school rockabilly drummer who liked improvising, and was merely using his talent to forward his beachcomber -bachelor lifestyle in San Diego, where I lived at the time.

The result was a beautifully composed piece that, to this day, I believe to be one of my strongest, although looking back now, not nearly as confident in its performance as the music I record presently. Although I rehearsed for weeks, by the time I stepped into the Sound Design Studios in the suburban outpost of Claremont, the reality of the shoestring budget I had to work with, and the awkward newness of being the one behind the mic, rather than behind the scenes affected the performance, especially the vocals. I didn’t ‘let loose’ like I could’ve. I had two 4-hour blocks of time to complete three songs,( ‘Somber’ is at current, the only surviving track). The other tracks were from the second session in January 2000, recording being split between Sound Design Studios and Audiotron, as the owner of the Sound Design tried to jack me for more money than what we or the engineer assigned to record my songs had agreed to. The other tracks were performed completely by myself: the first time I had ever done this in my life on a professional level. When all was completed, I was mailing demos from Auckland to London, to every major I could possibly certify-mail to. It was an exciting time of great promise. I felt the ‘big time’ was coming. I was on the precipice of music dominance as a Producer, baby! The world will know me.. Here I come!...

Then life happened.

The industry went into to full-on collapse , in part because of the per-to-peer file-sharing, and because of the Majors own ‘technological innocence’ , not capitalizing on the mp3 phenomena and not allowing themselves to convert these two combined liabilities into assets they could draw revenue from. 9/11 also happened soon after, sending my nation into an economic tailspin that sent me, my wife, and two babies into damn-near homelessness; in an attempt at relocating to better our collective fortunes, living in L.A. hotels for nearly two years, just trying to at least obtain gainful employment to back back off the ground. The music went on pause for almost 7 years. Focusing on the family was a major part of the delay as well.. and the happier part…

During this time, the original source reel-to-reel tapes were lost in storage in 2003; the only surviving audio from those first sessions was a tiny DAT tape I dug out before our things were summarily thrown away by the storage company when we fell behind on payment. Baby pictures, wedding photos, my awards and medals from the Navy..all gone. Our history as individuals and as a family was almost completely erased. For a long time, I was mildly bitter about this, but learned something very important that remains with me to this day: It is better to have things purged from you, and not people whom you love. And all was not lost, as what we had was sufficient, and we eventually moved on stronger and wiser for the experience. When I put together my own studio, as the technology acceleration went full stride to digital, I realized that it was more important to remain as independent as possible..fuck the Majors. I invested accordingly, and have constantly made adjustments as the scene has evolved: starting my own label and imprint officially in May 2007 after self-releasing my first album “The Darkest August” in 2006. “Ghettoxic” was the only track from these original demos that was officially released as a finished song, which I remixed to beef-up the percussion, and made more relevant. This year, in 2009, I am hosting my own radio program ‘The De Frag’, an aim to take away the vast expanse of music floating in cyberspace that is not getting attention, including my own, on top of self-releasing my second full-length CD “Programmed Response”, set for release this year.

Today I am working harder than ever..and loving it. The industry is now a game of adjustments, and is now all virtually on-line. I learned over the years that it is important to control one’s own destiny as much as possible..even learning and doing more than I ever anticipated to augment and better enhance what I already do. What used to be in 1999, now longer is in 2009 industry-wise, as the Majors are all but dead, and the fragmentation of the music landscape is replete with uncertainty and ultra- potential for success. I have grown as an artist, businessman, and shameless self-promoter. I have also grown as a person; being the kind of man my family can look to for leadership, dependability, fearlessness..and love. Sometimes it takes a hard crash before you realize what you truly can do. It has been a strange ride..but one that has found me a lot more confident and assured than ever before .

“Find what you love to do, and do it ‘till it kills you” -Derek Sivers, former CEO of CD Baby.com

That says it all..baby!

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My Hollywood Encounter

Ego Vs. Confidence in The Culture Of Hollywood..and Life

KC Shoen

ShoEnTeL Music

I’ve had some recent encounters with some difficult folks that have caused me some introspection and examination as to what ‘Ego’ and ‘Confidence’ really are in the human psyche. Freud’s famous interpretation being”...The ego is that part of the id which has been modified by the direct influence of the external world ...The ego represents what may be called reason and common sense, in contrast to the id, which contains the passions” The ’ego’ being somewhat the moderator between the imaginary dreamscape of the ‘id’ and the over-compensating and zealousness of the ‘super-ego.’ ‘Confidence’ then in this evaluation would have to mean the ‘balance’ that is struck in this finite system of the mind.

There is something of an unwarranted association between these two attributes often confused with one another. This is important to understand, I feel, for one involves the insane assumption of being greater than all others with no substantiation of talent and ability; absent of personal accountability, and the other is genuine belief in one’s own personal greatness as it stands, with no need to belittle others to provide evidence of talent, and no need to compete or compare.

‘Ego’ assumes that it ‘is’, while ‘Confidence’ just is.

In a bizarre set of circumstances, I came across one of the most powerful music promoters in Hollywood. Seeing an opportunity to turn a recovered cell phone of mine into a chance at cementing a business partnership, I decided to try to attempt a dialog minus the punitive ass-kissing that is so prevalent in the Entertainment Industry. When the opportunity was there, I was summarily told that “nope, can’t call me or talk to me anymore. Goodbye” before I could even render a ‘thank you’ for the return of my phone in the first place. And though I had contacted this individual in the past, and they had given their contact information to me to further discuss such possibility, they decided to slam the door inexplicably and without reason.

‘Ego’ assumes that it ‘is’,
while ‘Confidence’ just is.

Looking back, I began to evaluate, without personal bias, as to what led to this person’s sharp turn in behavior when dealing with me. A couple of items then stood out. For one, this individual has in their hire, a private nanny who is a musician: a very weak and obsequious young man whom obviously believes that by being a personal assistant to this promoter would allow himself some form of enhanced leverage at furthering his own aspirations. Quite the opposite has occurred: He is treated as a leper by not only the promoter, but by their staff as well. The disdain at which the promoter’s staff spoke of the musician/nanny tells volumes as to the lack of respect unknown artists receive from powerful promoters and their ‘people’. They are treated as discards: useless trash.

The second item that jumped out at me was the staff themselves, who spoke very cautiously to me in regards to the business, and of the promoter. The atmosphere was tight and suffocating to say the least, one individual even went as far as saying that the Promoter was ‘incredibly difficult and unkind’, and used an expletive that I don’t wish to repeat ….

They were scared shitless of them.

The awkwardness they felt in dealing with an ‘unknown’ like me, who seemed very disaffected by this information, was obvious: I had the audacity to come to this gathering and use it as a vehicle to promote myself as an Artist and label. Shit, why not? And I didn’t ask for preferential treatment, and I didn’t bullshit anyone at anytime. In the end, they were dismissive of me, they HAD to be, being the promoter’s little minions that they were..

Because I am confident in doing the one thing above all else, and above everyone else…

Being me.

Promoters are a tough lot. They have to be. Many of whom in this town hold private functions for celebrity-only clientele, and must be stiff and unrelenting to outsiders. Their very livelihood depends on it. Another powerful promoter whom I know well (I will call him “Matthew”) runs a very tight ship. He is hardcore sometimes, and a bit curt with his approach when he is running clubs and private events. Outside of this, Matthew is one of the nicest folks I know, and is very appreciative of those around him who help his cause, even complimentary for their participation. But when he’s ‘on’, he is fiercely protective of his clientele, hence why he is so successful.

In the final analysis, I came to understand one thing from this weird situation: ‘Ego’ hates ‘Confidence.’

Given their history, the promoter themselves has had one of stellar cruelty, benevolence, hypocrisy and blatant disregard for those not in the celebrity stratosphere. This individual has forged a professional life of conceited disparity reflected not only in my story given above, but in their personal life. The promoter is alone; without a partner and not in possession of the one thing separates the Confident from the Egocentric:

The genuine belief in one’s own personal greatness as it stands, with no need to belittle others to provide evidence of talent, and no need to compete or compare.

I have come to understand one thing from this weird situation:
‘Ego’ hates ‘Confidence.’

What I learned from this as well, is to keep going. Many people in this town fear this particular promoter because of their clout in the industry and the depth of their connections. I do not possess this fear, however. Leverage can also run both ways. In my case I am already self-contained by virtue of my ability to compose and perform music as a band, run my own label, writing informative articles such as this one, and spreading the word through my own channels. The industry is fragmented enough that it has spawned a new apparatus of access that is unprecedented for musicians, and it will be this group that continues to establish the Industry in a new context. The reinvention is already in progress.

Ego has 'acquaintances'; people who fear them.
Confidence has friends; those who admire them.

It takes confidence to proceed in it in a substantial way, even after being out rightly disrespected by a Hollywood powerhouse. One has to proceed. And not look back.

And sometimes moving forward means to toss back what has been thrown at you, but remaining above the fray at the same time, as I told the promoter in this portion of my e-mail to them:

“Do I want airplay? Sure as hell do.. No lie. Because I am confident in my abilities and talent, I'll accept your 'no thank you' free of any hostility. As you don't need me, I don't need you as well. But is it really about 'need', anyway?”

When confidence is in play, ‘need’ no longer inhabits the self, for it is driven by ‘want’, and want dictates what is perceived to be deserved, not just desired. With ‘ego’ you can cast all who disagree with you aside, and still succeed. With ‘confidence’, the only things that are disregarded are the opinions of those who don’t really know you, and what is absorbed is the ability to self-acknowledge when the information received is valid in advancing your cause, and when your cause is advanced, your success is sustained.

And unlike ego, the success can be enjoyed and shared among others as well as yourself. ‘Ego’ cannot do this, for ego says “I am the best, better than everyone”, Confidence states “I am the best I can be, but I can always do better, for I can allow myself to be human; error, and learn from my mistakes”, while ‘Ego’ makes the same mistakes repeatedly as it believes it makes none.

Ego has 'acquaintances'; people who fear them. Confidence has friends; those who admire them.

Ego is limited by its unwillingness to accept realities about there limitations, while genuine confidence can turn a personal liability into an asset by virtue of its willingness to acknowledge and identify it.

Which one are you?

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"Idol 2 Idle" Song debut

TheSongDiary : Volume 2

This is a new series that will feature brand new songs as I complete them for my upcoming (and often delayed ) "Programmed Response"






Toady's New Track:

"Idol 2 Idle"



This song was originally recorded back in 2005 in its basic instrumental form , and went through several title changes before finally resting at "Idol 2 Idle" as its final. Originally entitled "Islamabad" and was to be centered around my view on America's war on terrorism in Afghanistan, and the correlation to the poppy seed industry in that country that fuels multi-billion dollar heroine trade in the West. I couldn't effectively find the right form of pliable expression that I wanted, and in early 2006 I came across an article about the formation of Israel by the first Prime minister, David Ben-Gurion in The Nation magazine. This inspired the lyrics first eight bars, and are directly related to the history of the region.

I have always found it incredible the hypocrisy of organized religion and the sanctioning of violence and historical manipulation it uses to control others while furthering its own political and monetary capital for the sake of 'God'. I have always searched for a way to convey my disgust and disdain in such a way that I could say many things using allusions and phrases containing double-meaning. This song was an on-again, off-again attempt at doing just this, and a strange 2 1/2 year odyssey in that regard. irrespective of whatever may result, I am pretty fucking proud of it. the song was completed on October 8th 2008.

The Music: The 'bones' of the track were directly inspired by a Pete Rock/9th Wonder produced track from their seminal 2005 collaboration called "Class In Session". Rather than put through a loop sample of my own, I deconstructed what they did, and reconstructed using organic instrumentation such as acoustic guitars, piano and a live drum track which were put in place, plus a reconstructed key signature. When a friend of mine first listened to the demo back in the summer of 2005, he aptly named it the "Hill Street Blues " track ( after a 1980's television show theme song), which has a similar sound. Extra percussion fills and staccatos and further filtering and arrangement were added during August-September of this year.

The lyrics : a conglomerate of historical references to Israel, World War II, and the victims of the Exodus , a group of eastern-European Jewish refugees who fled Germany after of the Fall of the Nazis whom escaped the concentration camps and were originally bound for New York, but through diplomatic manipulation by Prime Minister Ben-Gurion of the Truman Administration in 1946 was able to keep the Exodus out to sea for seven months, and eventually had them disembark in the port of Haifa to be personally solicited by Ben-Gurion to fight against the Arab incursion in the name of Israel itself.

The problem : the refugees themselves were never asked what they wanted in this 'fight', and the native Arabs were never asked for their input about this new State; this 'New Centre of All World Jewry.' The second half of the lyrics is an all-out assault on all three groups involved in the Middle East mess: The Western Christians, the Jews, and the Muslims. There is an admitted empathy towards the Palestinians, however, as it seems they are ultimately the victim of 'Big Brother American' and Israel: both of whom are economic and military superpowers, While Palestine is more underdeveloped and poor. It seems to reek of bullying the brown man; the 'lesser' one...

Enjoy!.. and *ponder*

And, as always, all lyrics, vocals and instruments are written and performed performed by myself..

Did anybody ask the Arabs exactly what they wanted
Before they smothered Palestine in the Summer of '47?
Why didn't David have the courtesy to send the eviction notice
Before turning Gaza and The West Bank into his bathroom floor?

Wasn't enough to screw the survivors of Hitler's 'Master Plan', leave
the Exodus hanging out to sea for all of seven months.
Whoring out the martyrdom for Truman to take the bait..

A 'Holy' epicenter for all the suffragettes all assembled for a new
Israeli state..

(Main Chorus)
Idol 2 Idle
Car bombs to coffee shops
desecrating mosques and synagogues
F-14s and Hamas

Idol 2 Idle
Jesus and body parts
all cut and blown to bits
And crimson-colored be the head of Muhammad
Shot 2 shit

In the center of this GodRape
Like flowers trampled underfoot
Menorah pre-eminent domain
While the crescent of a lesser prophet
Has no say

It's a blank space to a blank check
Big Brother American
Got to take up for their Jewish brothers
While making blood in the sand

You know it's quite alright to just go ahead and take all their lives
Their 'God' is Mud for he lacks money, and the big blue eyes
And praise Our 'God', and shoot the Devil, cos Allah is a Myth (yeah!)
Stab and shoot and kill each other in the name of stones and sticks..
And Praise The Lord and Pass the Pistol; Christian Armies march
Strap the bomb right to the child and blow him through the Stars

(Main Chorus)
Idol 2 Idle
Car bombs to coffee shops
desecrating mosques and synagogues
F-14s and Hamas

Idol 2 Idle
Jesus and body parts
all cut and blown to bits
And crimson-colored be the head of Muhammad..
..The head of Muhammad

It's all about your God.....It's all about your flag (x4)

Copywright 2008 ShoEnTeL Publishing(ASCAP)Share onFacebook

"All Is Love" Song Debut

TheSongDiary : Volume 1

This is a new series that will feature brand new songs as I complete them for my upcoming (and often delayed ) "Programmed Response"







Todays New Track:

"All Is Love"





The dynamic in composing and songwriting is that it can come lightening fast, or can need some incubation time until the proper inspiration is found to give the song the proper vision and context it deserves. This song was a bit bit of a bastard in that I had elected to commit to transitioning in the mid-bridge in a completely different (but relevant) key signature. This coupled with the fact that the main guitar is electric-acoustic, and the second guitar was electric, both being at completely different tones altogether. It was originally put together in March 2007, but just completed with vocals on July 17th 2008.

The Music: The tonal shift/sound variation I actually liked, but I ended being rather put off about how tricky it was going to be to cumulatively get it cohesive enough to make it a complete song with vocals. If you listen closely, you can here the closing guitar at the last third of the song losing intonation slightly. rather than correct in the original recording, I decided to leave it instead, as I like the character of a 'build up' that inhabited with this anomaly. Electric guitars. many of which, do not retain their tuning very well, especially when the whammy bar is consistently applied...

The lyrics : my take on what it means to live in the superficial and perpetual singledom of Hollywood. There is a conglomerate of misery in this town that dwells among those who are trying to run with the hipsters and make their mark in entertainment. In doing so, they fail to recognize the importance of placing human intimacy ahead of attempting to 'keep up' with the glamorous lifestyle.

Years pass, and being perputually single has become its own inprisonment. The inability to not only acheive the dream of stradom but also having a genuine sense of true campanionship leaves nothing left but the bitterness and deprevity of the self-subjection to the material world. The very thing that was hungered for has consumed and devoured them, leaving nothing left to show but an acute sense of 'sour grapes' at those who have found love, while they themselves have only found it through the conditional dynamic of pet ownership and selfishness. Enjoy!

And, as always, all lyrics, vocals and instruments are written and performed performed by myself..

All is Love
Hide behind veneers and wasted years
And Times; and lines of empty voices
Filling Empty Rooms

All is fine-
An Easy smile, the madness of solitude
Break lights on a chance that you have
Set Ablaze

All is Love
closer to the Dog , than to your Neighbor
And Favor, what you can scold that has no Voice
To talk back...

And hatred's like a noisy anger
That burns the House inside your Head
No tears with eyes wide and dry..
So just fight and die instead..(X2)

..All is love;
Party favors wet with flesh
Dissolve in the morning haze..
What tasted like Fire, Now is Dead
In Your Gaze...

And Hatred's like an orphans' blanket
That wraps the cold inside your Head
No tears with eyes burned and fried..
You've earned the right to be Dead

..(And)All (that) Is Love, Has Died...(Repeat Until Fade, With Ad Lib)


Copywright 2008 ShoEnTeL Publishing(ASCAP)Share on Facebook

Bottle Rockets and Space Shuttles

The New Age Of Fear, Apathy, and Complacency Has Killed True Ambition..Except Mine

KC Shoen

ShoEnTeL Music

‘Aim High’ has long been the Air Force recruiting mantra of the ages. The obvious implication being to dream big; go beyond assumed levity and expectation. Reach for the seemingly unattainable and achieve the lofty and daring which for most may appear impossible.

The concept also has great acceptance and admiration in the American lexicon. The crevasse between its sloganeering and actual application is, to say the least, incredibly vast.

Almost beyond being cognizant of one another.

George Carlin once said about the purchasing of motivational books, “ if you were already motivated to go and purchase the book in the first place, then your motivated. What do you need the book for?” I began thinking about the complexity of that seeming rudimentary observation while at a previous gathering. Talking with a friend of mine who recently acquired his necessary qualifications as a paramedic, it suddenly began to dawn on me how little Americans at current devalue true risk taking in the face of more ‘traditional’ career aspirations.

This friend worked like a goddamn dog to achieve this goal, and he was met with a large round of indifference by members of his family, some I overheard complaining about all the ‘wasted time’ he spent studying in various schools to acquire the degrees necessary to be an EMT. The most common complaint was that there was so much money he ‘lost’ in his schooling. It didn’t matter that the end-result is his finally achieving his goal, and is now working in his given field of choice, and that the money and time invested will now pay off thrice fold. He is living his dream.

Americans at current devalue
true risk taking in the
face of more ‘traditional’ career aspirations

It still didn’t matter.

No, he should’ve been more willing to just get out there and work some mid-level corporate bullshit job, overpaid for an expensive car, then bought a house to prove his immediate worth while still under thirty. Never mind the incredible unhappiness and sense of self-loathing it would have caused, affecting every personal relationship with those close to him. Just get the material necessary right away to prove your worth. It’s the American Dream.

Fuck being the Space Shuttle. Be the Bottle Rocket.

The economy being so incredibly fragmented and irreconcilably damaged has prompted more fear, and more leniency to this type of linear aspiration. ‘Just get a job that pays well, shut up, and stay there’. In the last eight years that I have been perusing music on a serious level, I have found a much more vehement willingness to hold on to such rancor in light of the jobless rate edging higher. There are times I’ve had to go back to a regular job to get money up and support my craft that I have dealt with employers who bristle at me when they discover I actually have ambitions beyond than what they are offering me within their company. I have even been cornered with “who the fuck do you think YOU are?” on many occasions. I attribute this defensive loathing to me being a musician and a label owner simultaneously. How dare I think I am competitive enough in the current abyss that is the industry to have confidence enough to strive for greatness and success!

How appalling to have ambition that breaks with the rank-and-file of American corporate sheepishness! The gall to sacrifice and skip on the finer material trappings for something more meaningful, and potential greater reward!

How dare I portend to be a Space Shuttle in a sea of mediocre compliance, fear, and culpability in the vox populi of Bottle Rocketry!

There are times I’ve had to go back to a regular job to get money up and support my craft that I have dealt with employers who bristle at me when they discover I actually have ambitions beyond than what they are offering me within their company

I don’t have much, really. What I do own is semi-functional to completely dependable. I do skip on eating out, turning instead to try to grab a special once-in-a-while moment with my lovely wife whenever there’s a little extra. My studio is about the only area in the home that is ‘new’, and this was (and is) obtained, to this day, through discounts and hook-ups through one of the many places I’ve worked at in the past. I have to mind my money, like everyone else, but it has forced me to become creative, and take more risks with my art.

Imagine that. Broke as hell, yet taking expanded risks..what a novel concept!

I decided in 2000 this is absolutely what I wanted to do, and only in the last few years has my vision for myself as an artist and a label started to come more into focus, and gain some fanfare. The dream is coming into realization. And this is the time to step on the gas. Work harder and smarter. Try to gain more traction. Try to get YOU to be a fan of me.

Because I am that damn good, and you would love what I have. And I believe that.

So should you.

Of your OWN aspirations.

Don’t settle for what it is in front of you, if your soul craves more. If you do, it is a slow and painful suicide of mundane and esoteric proportions. Fear creates hesitation, and hesitation is the gateway to failure. You can’t act if you can’t think clearly and without doubt.

You will be the bottle rocket. Small, short spurts of mediocre and meaningless achievement followed by an insidious ‘pop’ as the ceiling stunts your rise; coming to crash quickly on the asphalt.

Be the Space Shuttle. Go for the long distance; the incredible flight. See and do what others will hate for, as they can’t even aspire to such potential greatness, let alone take the risk to make that journey in the first place.

..and can you explode in mid-air? Yes. But you control that dynamic. Your decisions will determine whether you will remain buoyant, or if you will crash and burn. You own it; so do the maintenance to keep the machine flying.

I believe that.

Or else I wouldn’t bother with the passion I have for my art in the first place.

So, to hell with the bottle rockets. I gotta go fly...

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Easy With That Wire Hangar, Joan..!

Kanye West's Bonnaroo Meltdown and Proceeding Fallout shows His Ineptitude at Taking Justifiable Criticism

KC SHOEN

www.myspace.com/shoentel

The Bonnaroo incident is now becoming the albatross Kanye West can’t seem to shake, His recent all-caps tirade-riddled blog is the latest series in the Kanye Unholy Trinity of Megalomania that becomes further evidence of what he defines as confidence is nothing more than self aggrandizement. Worsening this debacle into an unredeemable interstellar melt down of epic proportions is the rationale of ‘Ye assailing the one group that he shouldn’t have dare blasted..

The fans themselves.

I don’t condone their littering the stage with bottles to the point of making the stage into a three-inch deep pool of overpriced urine-flavored libations, turning his overly-convoluted techno concerted performance into a living electrical hazard replete with the opportunity for him to break his neck, much like having newly cleaned naked skin making unsure contact to a slippery floor coming out of a shower. West was right for addressing this in his mostly-adolescent temper tantrum-ladened bitchfest of a blog

Kanye West went completely off coarse when he decided to channel Joan Crawford, splitting hairs and ‘wire hangars’ about having his payday cut in half by the damage the pelting created, blaming the organizers for their poor coordination, and going as far as holding the same organizers accountable for not issuing a statement of apology on his behalf. The most entertaining bit of this Man-Diva drama was his blaming the fans themselves for not pulling off the performance the way he envisioned, ending his ‘Kanye Dearest’ rant with ‘(You) can never say I didn’t give my all’.

Well ‘Mr. Crawford’, yes we can say that.

Joan Crawford died May 10, 1977..Kanye was born June 8th the same year. Could his latest tirade be a convincing argument of him being Joan Crawford reincarnated? Hmmm....

And as much as I have bean-bagged WhutDoYaMeanGene Simmons for his inability to stand in on his ignorance with debates he starts, the one area he has completely got it on the mark is his interpretation of the fans role in Kiss’ sustainable star power and revenue garnering, being simply this:

‘The fans are our bosses. Without them, we would be nothing.’

Prince doesn’t do a whole lot of speaking, but his performance at Coachella spoke volumes as to his understanding of what his role was at the festival, covering Radiohead’s ‘Creep’ mid-repertoire; letting the fans know he understood His Purple Badness was NOT the focus of the night, and lending musical props to the band themselves, who actually were the anticipated centerpiece of that event.

It was respectful, even galvanizing.

But not ’ol ‘Joan’. Kanye decided this was all about him. There are a few things ‘Ye could’ve done to make the experience have more value (not to mention more tolerable) starting with a few simple rules for playing at a festival with multiple performances by various acts:

1) Keep it simple: There was really no need for the complicated neo-Funkadelic staging for his performance. Joan could’ve spared himself much aggravation and risk of technical failure had he just stripped-down the staging involved. This is a festival, not a ‘Kanye and Friends’ collective tour. This shows respect to the other acts involved, and allows room for any minor delays. The fans will appreciate seeing you perform, but will also appreciate you getting your ass on, and off the stage quickly.

2) Expect delays: Joan doesn’t have a good grasp of the concept that
even when it comes to His High Hip-Hopness, shit happens. Tech delays, staging
malfunctions, wardrobe difficulties, lighting gaffs all can occur without warning, and will, especially at a multi-act venue. Show some patience, girlfriend..go have a wine spritzer and a Zoloft. The whole world is not ‘waiting to see (you) fall’:many of us haven’t seen you rise. And so many more don’t care, BabyJane.

3) Communicate to the fans at the end of a long set delay ‘Ms. Crawford’ could have really done his ManDiva-ass a favor with this simple sentence “Hey, people, really sorry for the long delay..hope y’all ready for a really good set…!” This could’ve done wonders for the whole situation. Would’ve killed the ‘Kanye sucks’ chants, possibly turned to cheers and might’ve become the most memorable performance that evening. The entire coarse of events now that are happening would have resulted in the positive adulation ‘Ye so craves constantly.

What Kanye forgot in all this was the fans themselves. Rather than take charge of the debacle by way of an act of contrition to the audience, he elected instead to go on stage, make no acknowledgement of the horribly long delay, and then bitch when he rightfully got bean-bagged for it by the fans themselves. Joanie the ManDiva chose to blame the fallout on everything and everyone else except the real person who was responsible.

Himself.

It is his fault because he owned no accountability to it. And in the process, committed one of the worst cardinal sins:

Taking it out on the fans themselves.

So, listen closely ‘Mildred Pierce’, before you decide to have your fingers wrapped around the soft, pillowy buttons of your MacAir laptop, here’s a few things to consider before you attempt to ‘clear out some more wire hangars’, and beat us all down a la Christina Crawford.

Fans do not care how much revenue loss you took. They paid to see you, alongside other acts. That is your problem..

They are also not concerned about your fettered opinion in regards to your beleaguered tech delays and over-excessive staging and props, and whose fault it was that it didn’t come off correctly. You wasted their time, and then had the audacity to whine like a 5-year old.

What you see as an injustice and disrespect to your art, they see as you acting a little spoiled bitch, crying over your lost baby bottle. Fans also got a glimpse of your shortsighted pettiness and your over-indulged sense of self-importance.

If indeed you’re going to vent online for the entire world to see, and put out a screamer-blog, do us all a favor and UNDO the ‘Caps Lock’. Screaming in all caps is for children, and last I checked, you just turned 31.

And lastly, Joan-Kanye, you cannot defend the indefensible. Redirecting blame, getting huffy and defensive in a poorly written and ill-advised blog, then trying to assert your dominance in the game just makes you look and sound a right jackass. The fiasco is your entire fault because of your failure to plan properly, and to address this to the audience at Bonnaroo, before you started attempting to perform in that slippery beer-soaked pool of a stage.

If you lack the insight and common sense to understand the fans angle in this, you should check to make sure you have proper circulation of blood going into your cerebral cortex..

A good start is maybe to find some loose-fitting clothes. And take some accountability, and stop pissing off fans. No one is digging your act

‘Kanye Dearest’

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A Farewell To 'Uncle' George

George Carlin's passing is sad, indeed, but also personally filled with irony

KC Shoen
www.myspace.com/shoentel

Danny Kaye is about as humorous today as dried fruit.

At least by today’s standards, anyway. But Danny Kaye, in the infinite scope and breadth of his outreach of talent in comedy essentially gave birth to another whose prose in stand-up would be unmatched by any of his contemporaries for five solid decades.

One George Denis Patrick Carlin Of Morningside, New York.

Kaye’s influence drove the ninth-grade drop-out, and dishonorably discharged Air Force veteran something to aspire to: tell jokes, and get paid for it. Carlin found his way out of the orchestrated and mundane world of over-obedience and decaying original thought that was American culture, then and now, by way of making fun of it.

But George really didn’t come in to his own until a repeat appearance on The Ed Sullivan Show with a bit called ‘The Hair Piece’, in which he traded in the signature clean-cut suit-and-tie for a pair of faded jeans, a tie-dye shirt and long hair.

Carlin also decided to do away with impressions which had been his mainstay of his comedic routine in the 1960’s, and instead became a counterculture icon. This was due to two significant events in his life that occurred almost simultaneously: the arrest of Lenny Bruce on obscenity charges (which he was present for), and that marijuana was not only useful in summoning the Muse of his art, but was also a goddamn great high.

It was 26 years ago, on a hazy and cold Utah evening in November 1982 that I discovered who, and what this George Carlin was. ‘Carlin at Carnegie Hall’ was the one I must have watched a thousand times, even recording it on audio cassette so that I could learn and mimic his act. It was hot stuff to a twelve-and-half year old. Especially his introduction of the Original ‘Seven Dirty Words’ which, in this particular HBO special, was expanded to about five hundred which he read off a scroll at the end-credits.

Not only was this remarkable in that he found new and improved combinations, but the fact he parlayed it into many variances and phrases both profound and ambitious..some never heard of before.

I can’t tell you what kind of havoc this brought me in Mormonland Salt Lake, when I decided to repeat segments of his act to my schoolmates while in class. So many were offended, but so many more were incredibly amused. Many conservative members of the faculty at Hillside Junior High viewed me as 'mind poison': keeping a watchful eye on the ‘little demon’, and since I wasn't a part of the bleating Mormon sheep-machine, I was especially handled with great underlying disdain and vitriol by these figureheads. Even as far as being excluded from special school events due to my ‘negative influence.’

And I don’t regret a single moment of this. And it’s all thanks to good ol ‘Uncle George’

A strange and wonderful education began with listening and watching Carlin over those formative years. I discovered something rather intrinsic and deeply fascinating about his work: He was an idealist with a pessimistic view about those who have an unyielding loyalty to the ‘rules’.Waiting for either natural or human created catastrophe to spell the end of mankind, where he could have a front seat like a spectator sport was another: so that life could ‘start over’ and perhaps bring about a better outcome than what currently seems uncorrectable and insurmountable at present, given our ‘reptilian’ tendencies.

Even his disdain for authority had an idealist nuance: presenting total anarchy as a means to discover genuine and original thought that could bring about real change, above and beyond what we call 'establishment’. Carlin’s knack for attacking Corporate empires in his latter years gave glimpses of idealism that suggested if only these entities were removed (even violently) it would promote free thought: unregulated, unfiltered, and without commercial saturation. Free thought and Being were always central to his themes, in one facet or another, much like Hunter S. Thompson and his brand of ‘gonzo journalism.’ the two were most definitely cut of the same cloth...

But the real strangeness in all this for me started here..

It was 11:00 at night, and I decided to breeze through some e-mails on that 22^nd day of June. Routine check-backs, reviewing the days messages, checking my Myspace, and whatever else needed tending to, that I suddenly found myself screaming at the Yahoo! Default page on my laptap. An entire part of my history had suddenly gone straight to the ‘past tense’ , and was no more in the living. It did feel like, in an abstract sense, a ‘relative’ had died; suddenly and without any pretense or appearance of impending expiration.

It was over.

All those Carlin-joke retellings ; all that preadolescent mimicry which evolved into true appreciation in adulthood now seemed vaporized. So suddenly, without a living being to attach it to. The being is now suddenly memorialized, no longer of the flesh, but now a eulogy. An epitaph. A weird and freaky little Uncle had transcended, taking with him his unyielding and nuanced humor that many to this day among the ‘family’ are still scared shitless to touch. A real funny sonofabitch, who would seem to have gone on boundlessly, is now absent.

Your favorite Uncle who knew your darkest thought patterns, and displayed them with incredible insight and verbal conciseness has disappeared from the barbecue, leaving only just the resin of time/space memory to quickly fill the void…and leaving you to deal with the other ‘pack of mutants’ at the cookout.

Uncle George has gone to The Great Gig In The Sky...

And it gets a little more ironic..

-My current song “I Am The Air”, finally debuted after two weeks of delays and programming errors on the part of A&R Limited, the company that features ‘The Indie Revolution’ show and podcast. The original date of it’s premier was June 8^th. Instead it debuted this past Sunday..

June 22^nd

-The song debuted in one of the largest music markets in the world, on a station that has an audience of approximately 1 million listeners locally. WMIR 100.9 FM, which is located in Long Island, near George Carlin’s birth city and in his birth state..

New York

-George Carlin passed away at St. John’s Hospital at approximately 5:55pm. The hospital is located in Santa Monica, California..

located about 4 miles from my front door

‘I Am The Air’ is a song about transcendence from the material plain; rising above the violence and sheepishness that seems pervasive in our times, and finding true spirituality from within, not without. Because of all of the strange coincidence involving his passing, and because he was truly a hero of mine, I would like to dedicate the main chorus of the song to his memory, as I think it is fitting, oddly enough…

I am the air above the sea

The sky above your debris

I am alive beyond your sight

I am the ghost leading this fight,

Clearing off where you sling mud

Reaching for god, as you draw blood

And I won’t come down…

…And I won’t come down…

Whatever these strange coincidences are suppose to validate, I'm not sure..but I just want to say goodbye, Uncle George. Thanks for validating my weirdness, and giving me a 'place' for my 'stuff'