Future History

(my tuesday blog on wednesday)

The previous post was merely me making a Tuesday post on a Tuesday, to keep in
consistency with the past several months of regularity and to not break my posting flow
and to keep building the record.  This is the follow-up.  The previous post was an
expression of antipathy regarding time constraint, deadlines, schedules, actually, the
general fleeting and rushing nature of time.  Also, the pressure of keeping a record
open for the public (or a few friends) as opposed to the more natural private tendency
of writing.  Just a backlash of blogging and a spontaneous rebellion against bloggers
(and myself), as if everyone has something almighty important to say all the time,
anyway.  As if everything needs to be documented or photographed.  One of these days
perhaps the documents will crumble or the photographs will wither away.  Or if they're
stored on a digital device perhaps they'll just zap, be gone.  And some things in some
formats will last through the ages.  Or, maybe a lot more will last in the vaults than I
anticipate.  That would be great for future history.  I hope so.  We'll just keep snapping
this on our phone, saving this, and we'll just store the whole gargantuan pile in another
dimension of sorts.

      It's just that I know so many people who have lost all their pictures, files, etc. when their computer crashed, so be sure to go print some of your favorite pictures now and then.  All that being said, I like the blog, it's just a small percentage of the writing I do.  Though some weeks, it's the only writing I do.

      The label is releasing a new album by Sad Sad Bicycle on New Year's Eve, entitled
Broken Wing.  This will be followed by several more releases by others.

Tuesdays Come Round Fast

Blauuuughhhhhh

bloooog

blah     guh

bloooooooooooooog

thanks for reading!

Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, Happy Holidaze!

Holidaze

Really excited about the next album we're putting out- it's getting closer

and closer to being done.  Not sure when it will be done, but I'll be continuing

to work on it through the holidays, and it should be very soon.  Been tracking

and mixing today and yesterday.

Also, happy about the ongoing developments with Willie Cry Records.  We'll

be putting out an album by American Darlings, from Brooklyn, NY, that is scheduled

for release on Valentine's Day, 2012.  

Sad Sad Bicycle has just finished a new album to be released very soon, possibly

in the next 2 weeks.  

Olina, as well, almost has a new album finished, and there is other stuff on the way

as well.

We have a merch store burgeoning- check out Willie's Store at www.williecryrecords.com

Willie Cry Records buttons, keychains, mouse pads, ties, caps, shirts, tote bags, etc.

The Thunder and Mavericks are playing in OKC tonight.  The NBA season started after all.

Happy Xmas and Holidaze!

OKC riverwalk

by Andrew Clayton

Roundhouse Kick

Moving along- got back from Portland on Sunday night.  We had a 14-hour recording session at Jackpot Studio on Friday where we laid down tracks for the next Gardes album.  Classic studio, owned by Larry Crane, who produced Elliot Smith's Miss Misery, etc.

      Played his Strat, the piano, the theremin, Aaron played his bass and guitar,  Adam Miller joined in on the tubs.  Josh Smith played bass on one.

      Picked up Andrew Clayton yesterday at the Will Rogers World Airport in OKC, and we've been working on renovating the label website, www.williecryrecords.com and developing it all further.

     Tomorrow night we're playing at Saint's on 16th and the Plaza District.

     A lot is coming on the way.  Mundo releases!

     Willie Cry just brought on Kansas City's Hot Dog Skeletons.  Told 'em we'd dress up the dogs (ketchup and mustard).  Kansas City-style dogs.

Darn My Socks

In a hurry to leave for Portland 2morrow morning, I've been running errands, including doing laundry.  For the past couple of years, I've had a couple of favorite pairs of socks, at least a select few I prize above the others.  Now, they were getting tattered around the edges, loose threads.  I have a pair of navy blue socks that had white threads jutting out.  I guess the washer and dryer have been tumbling too hard?  They're just getting worn.  So I didn't have to quite darn my own socks, but I took a pair of scissors and began cutting away all the loose ends and so now they're pretty close back to good-as-new.  But even socks have a life-span.  I don't have a lot of socks with me right now.  They've been dwindling.  They're disappearing.  Some were left in another town.  I saw my sister-in-law over Thanksgiving weekend, and she was wearing a pair.
        I've never actually came to Christmastime where I am actually wishing for new pairs of socks, but this is the case.  Never once have I wished for a pair of socks for a present, but now I'll be grateful.
        Recording session on Friday in Portland at classic Jackpot Studio.  Looking forward to it!   Next week I'll be looking backward to it.

The Shelf Life Of An Indy Album

Looks like I never continued on my diatribe last week, but where does this diatribe even point?  My friend, David Wittmer, helped me with the layout of one of the print runs of one of our earliest albums.  He had an office/studio setup with high-tech computer programs and printers, and I had none such stuff.  In the middle of working on a design, I got a call from a friend who was stranded in Tulsa, and she begged me to come pick her up.  So I spoke to the head honcho at the Borders there about selling some of our albums there, and she said certainly, be there by this time.  Why not? We'd sold in some record stores, anyway.
        Now, I was pressed for time, and two round CD labels were born through his printer.  However, they were not printed on sticker paper, so we decided to cut these out and glue them on by hand.  Unfortunately, there was no glue stick around!  Now it was past time to go!  I hurried to Tulsa, stopped by the Borders, but the manager had already left.  Will you take a message?  OK, I left the two albums with them.  Is there a glue stick I can borrow?  Not sure.  Well, the manager would probably just glue them on for us, I was informed.  Really?  This seems like such a backwoods operation, I'm loving it.  I left her a note.  They paid me for them and it probably added up to gas money for my trip, and then they'd just mark it up some.
        Months down the road, shopping for some birthday or Christmas present while visiting my brother, I checked the local shelf upstairs.  There they were sitting there.  Sure enough, they were shrink wrapped with a bar code sticker and everything.  Muy professional.  I was impressed.  There was a pretty decent review written about the album later.  Some months later, I checked again.  They were still there.
        Some years went down the road, and I decided to check and see if this Borders would now sell our new album.  I went in there.  At that point, I didn't even have a copy of the previous album, and I wanted one for a keepsake.  I went to look for it and didn't see it.  Pushing back several locally produced records, there it was, in the very back, completely concealed.
        I asked if I could just swap them out for a couple of new ones.  Due to some technicality, I had to purchase them back.  So I went to the counter and bought a couple of my albums for a discount.  Opened it up, and the CD label slid right off the CD, sans glue.  Ha.
       Now our new ones were sitting there.  Maybe they'd have a better fate.  Time passed again until I heard that Borders was closing and going out of business.  When I was in Tulsa, I though maybe I'd go see if the store was still open and maybe have a look and see about their fate.  The store was already closed and empty.

Your Digital Watch Doesn't Display The Time, It Just Says Now

Once upon a piddly time, we decided we'd make our own records (albums) (CD's, more likely) from scratch and sell them in stores that would carry them.  Be our own makeshift production company/record label.  We started branching out from our hometown, securing the region, whoever would have us.  We sold several CD's as the music industry was slowly but fo' sho'ly making its massive transition from CD to the world of digital.  When we first started making them, they were really easy to sell.  They'd be gone really fast, even though they were printed, hand-made, in minuscule runs.  As people became more and more inundated with listening and finding anything they wanted at the spontaneous click of a button, they exponentially became harder to move. 
         When you first start doing things, if you're doing alright, you think, okay, I'm new to this, all I have to do is keep up the practice and work and I can only do better, but in places as fickle and ever-changing as marketplaces, you have to constantly adapt to not be side-swiped by bloodthirsty competitors, and I, for one, have never been too keen on competition, anyway, not of the serious blood-lusting kind.  Well, maybe a little.  Eventually, everything was expected to be free because everything was exposed online for free and was available right now, then another click of a button, and attention spans became even shorter than they ever were.  We found out it was hard to even sell stuff online, because it's just a piece of air or code that (magically) carries a sound.  Oh well.  At first, musicians and businessmen had to rush to set up their online store and had to pay a whopping 30-some dollars for a website domain name and perhaps 200 dollars a month for a hosting fee just to have the website storage.  Which you still do, but for not as much.  Several people were interested in checking out others' websites. 
           The advent of social media made it possible for everyone to have their own website, for free, and more and more storage space became possible.  Then, everyone in the world had their own website and became addicted to looking at themselves online and all of their friends.  Soon, you could even access all of this from anywhere on your cell phone, and people everywhere constantly reached for their phones as a reflex to check out anything that was happening except what was right in front of their face.  Cafes were full of people staring at screens and very few people were actually having conversations.  People were consumed with absorbing information until they started talking like robots.  Musicians stopped getting paid to play in public places because people could just listen online to music being made by robots.  When musicians did play for free and maybe (if they were lucky) a meal, no one listened because they were on their computers typing about how they were typing on their computer right now.  What did it matter? The musicians were boring, anyway, and so was Hollywood.  Everyone was making up their own stuff now. 
             I'll tell you about when we sold our albums at Borders, what happened, maybe tonight if I have time, but I have to run to band practice real fast...
           

Grinding Teeth

         Grinding Teeth

          Horace B. True picked up a job as an imaging tech for a start-up firm in the city. He took thousands of photographs a day of legal documents with his fancy digital camera he was purchasing with deductions from his paycheck. There was a recent boom in this business all around the country where there were oil and natural gas deposits being drilled out of the virgin ground. He and his ilk served as middlemen for landmen who formerly had to "run title" by personally visiting the courthouses in the hopes of procuring rights from landowners to extract from the land. Here were copious books dating back to the turn of the century well over a hundred years ago. The older ones were awkwardly huge and weighed close to 30 pounds. Often, the courtrooms had been victims of fires in the past and many of these older books were destroyed. Also, many of the indexes were so sloppily written, it was virtually impossible at times to tell even a "4" from an "8."

            Every morning he woke, sometimes as early as 4 a.m. to go on a 300-mile round trip, but always by 6 to go at least 60 miles in a day, to go snap snap pictures of documents he didn't completely understand- warranty deeds, mineral deeds, mortgages, oil and gas releases, receipts, plat maps, affidavits, exhibits that sometimes went on for hundreds of pages, and then he uploaded them to a laptop, organized and numbered them (protocol), then he put them in order on a flash drive, according to what county, township and range to where he was assigned.

          The supervisor, who stayed in the office, was always on to him to work more diligently and meet the deadlines, even though he often worked around the clock for them, only breaking for a quick meal, then more work. He worried about falling asleep on the highway due to lack of sleep, but this didn't concern management, so the stress boiled to a pulsing headache and breaking out. Horace didn't understand the urgency of these oil companies to satisfy society's desire for oil when he was stuck in rush hour traffic, 3 hours to go 10 minutes, 1 person to a car, and the sunrise smothered in smog.

       Pulling books one day from the high shelves, he scooted a rolling platform ladder (which reminded him of a scaffold) around the vault, grateful not to be in the previous county where he'd been assigned to an abandoned third floor which housed ancient books covered in dust and cobwebs and where guano covered the floor.
       Stooping down to pull from the lowest shelf, a weighty book known as Deed # 5 came careening from the damaged, toppermost sliding rail and clunked into his skull. A strenuous thud and pop! All was white light, then blankness.

          Was this death by legal book? Or simply a coma?

         The court clerk ran in. Soon, the police. An ambulance screeched. The legal book went on trial for aggravated assault. As it sat before the judge, jury and plaintiff in the defendant's wooden chair, it was sentenced to 17 years in the state prison.
         Luckily for Horace B.True, he came to and regained his former composure, but now works part-time as a caddy at the Mingleton Country Club until he finishes his doctoral thesis on cervicogenic headaches. He spends his day navigating the course in his electric golf cart and plaid trousers. Unfortunately, for Ryan Petroman, he was fired the other day when he couldn't find any records contained in Deed # 5.

Remotely Out Of Control

Ah, so this is what TV's come to now- I see in the lower righthand corner- "25 Most Memorable Infomercials Ever."  I can't miss that one.  The channels are broken up into decimals- 88.9, 83.100 down to 83.22, down to 53 suddenly with 1 down click of the button, 1 click down to 16- there's 5 billion channels for each person on the earth, or aren't there 7 billion now?  A billion more while I said that just then.  16 down to 15.1.  I find the feeling of this remote control familiar yet a bit estranged.  I walk into these home box office mega entertainment centers with a muddle of boxes hooked up with tangled snake cables and don't even bother.  It's a chore to find the one remote out of 7 that will turn the damn boob tube on- it's an exercise to change the channels, adjust the volume.  TV's supposed to be for the lazy, a dumbing down.
     I'm just messing around now because that can't be a universal truth.  TV can be good sometimes and even educational.  All these channels, though.  People used to see the same thing on TV with the only 3 channels they had and they'd talk about it the next day.  Vonnegut addressed this situation to an effect.  Now, so many haven't seen the same thing, which isn't necessarily bad, it means there's more options, more individualization, but the culture loses some unification, some shared knowledge.  You gain something, you lose something.  It hasn't gone so far, though, there's millions of people who still experience the same.  It's just that no one's famous anymore, they just think they are.  OK, there's still fame, but maybe not like it used to be, of course, not much is ever like it used to be.
      And how many genres of music are there now?  I, like a lot of musicians, can't help but cringe a little every time I'm asked the question, "What kind of music do you play?" or "who are your influences?  I sometimes play silent music, the type you can't hear, at least not out in the open.  You have to plug in your telepathic headphones.

The Oklahomafrican Sun

11-1-11

      There's so many things I've never done that now I realize, and I wonder if I really care to ever do them or not, or am more concerned about the idea of doing them, because experiences aren't always all they're cracked up to be- like these people who run around obsessing with experience and soaking it all up, having to be and do everything, or get a taste of it (I've been some of that mindset), like a bunch of experience hogs, and then they find they don't have something that's truly fulfilling, because all they can appreciate anymore are the big roller coasters, and not the tiny subtleties of life, like the shadows of dancing trees shaking their branches and leaves along a sunglint wall, how the trees just stand there and soak up the sky and the sun and the wind and rain and moon. When everyone's just a one-of-a-kind. An aborigine typically doesn't hang out on a laptop as far as I know, a meerkat doesn't speak Spanish as far as I know, a hamster doesn't whistle, I don't skydive (though maybe I will sometime and I'm just waiting for something traumatic to happen so I can jump out of a plane and forget about it), a sloth doesn't fight morning rush hour traffic (I want to be a sloth in a dream world)- All this steel- complexed, green colored paper money chasing rushing urgency to crowd the earth with more man-made tumbleweeds (plastic bags blowing through parking lots) and obligations for unnecessities just feels unnatural- but it was created and self-imposed, self-inflicted.

     I'm knocking on your door- I'm not a salesman.  I tried and I can't much do it.

I didn't really want to sell you anything in the first place- just give until I have nothing

and then the world will say hey look at the bum who is sometimes in reality Christ-like- though

sometimes a rotten bum.

     This week I'm once again a spy from my own world on this world and the sunrise on

the Oklahoman plains is the African sun on an African-looking, Oklahoma grass-blowing terrain, and there is a zebra that lives in Oklahoma, a long-maned lion perched on his grassy hill, watching the same sun set in the distance of the Milky Way.

     There are giraffes, a hippo, rhinos, a jaguar that lives in the Heartland. I saw them the

other day, an unexpected free pass to the zoo from a friend. It was like a heartwarming

prison full of friends who for the most part are really well off and don't know any better,

kind of like everything else. Except I knew and they knew they were really just stage

performers and thrived on the love and applause.

The Nu-News

I saw in the news today a few things ("I read the news today oh boy") - John Lennon's tooth is for sale- for auction, San Francisco is trying to ban nudity in restaurants- I didn't even know that nudity was legal in San Francisco, just as long as you're not in a "state of arousal."  Though the city is trying to make it a law to at least put a towel or sheet down before sitting down.  Paul McCartney wrote a vegetarian cookbook, or had others write it for him.  I also read some other weird things, such as Napoleon Bonaparte's, or Napoleon's Bonaprivateparts, were once upon a time mummified and sold for several thousand dollars, and later the owner was supposedly offered 100 grand and turned it down.  Other random stuff- Lindsay Lohan may be getting naked for Playboy (I only hear about her, I've never even seen one of her movies), something about JLo crying about something, a body found in a freezer may be a missing woman, Jennifer Aniston was making rumors about rumors, Muammar Gadhaffi buried in some secret location, man stuck in baby swing, Queen Elizabeth was mooned, Steven Tyler was injured in shower (I didn't bother to click on hardly any of these).  This is just what's going on that you can see in the online headlines.  But it'll hang on this screen a bit longer than these flashing headlines- and here it becomes history instead of news.  My friend's ex-girlfriend moved out and he changed the locks, she's blocking his calls and texts and he's always able to step out and look at everything objectively and realizes that life is always an ongoing story of some sort- but now he comes home to some badged officials tracking her down for some reason- no one's sure what the full story is- they may be on her trail due to illegal ordering of pharmaceutical drugs, but it's an ongoing mystery.  I often get very behind on the news and it was only a day later when we all went out to dinner with someone in the army who was getting ready to be deployed to Kuwait for a year that I found out through him, "The good news is the Iraq War is over now."  "What? When did that happen?"  "They announced it a couple of days ago."  Why hadn't I heard yet?  Why were there no celebrations?  Is it because no one believes it?  I was probably celebrating anyway, knowing me.

Already Given This 30 Minutes Of Nothingness That Is Time

So there's some electromagnetic pulse that radiates from my body
that interferes with electronics and jumbles up their senses and just
wi-fries everything, perhaps it is because I'm actually just too human
and I'm not meant to be part of the machine- I go kicking and screaming
so many mornings when forcing myself to oil and grease the gears of this
Machine World.  The emanation from my being is actually my brother's
problem, and the whole thing was his idea.
     Just stopping at a Barnes & Noble for a split second to send out a letter,
it turned out the place had blocked the wall sockets so many laptops and
devices had died, and I was amused to see a great many of people writing
in notebooks and reading real books.  However, the connection didn't
work there, so I left, even if making a Tuesday point to no one else but myself.
     So now we got it going.  In a haste to go do some recording tonight.
     And, I have text messages now again, for the first time in some years.
At one point, I just turned them off, for I was getting so many messages of
even just jibberish (some of the kind of people I know) that one month my
bill was about the cost of rent for a humble apartment (lucky I was homeless-
do those words even work? not for money) and gas and food and phone bill
was my rent- so they were gone- but now, due to reasons, as things are usually
due to reasons, unless you hang out with Nothing Unreal until past dawn sometimes,
text messages are back on now.  I've come across several people who realized they
were having a one-sided conversation with themselves and called me on it after some
days, and then I realized that perhaps I've lost some friends in the past thinking I'm a
no reply. Possible, probably not, though.
     I waited for 10-15 minutes to speak to a person on the phone who was trying
to overcharge me 20 bucks a month at first, then down to 10.  I said no, someone
else just last week told me what the price was.  They didn't know shit.
     I went to the store and the phone guy hooked me up in one minute.
     I don't want to get all hung up on phones, though, so i'm hanging up for tonight,
and I'll call you next week, and we'll hang out some more.
    

Post- Apocketoflips

Continuation from wherever this was left off, leaving you hanging out
on a cliff (I wouldn't do that)-

     Schemes of new album orchestrations and malfunctions are now
underway.  Several tracks have now been recorded and now I (we)
are stacking tracks like Jenga and hoping it won't fall down in a
trainwreck (not Bloody likely).  I'm from Oklahoma, but I'll say
"bloody" anyway.  OK, not UK.

     October and November are the two months of the year when I'm
alive- the rest of the year I'm dead and speaking from the grave.  Don't
take that literally- In January, February, I'm stranded and freezing.
In March, I'm being born, in April, I'm learning, May, I'm loving but
running from tornadoes and other deathly gestures, June, July, August,
I'm melting but returning to my origin in a pool of cool- Sept. I'm leaving,
Oct., Nov. I'm alive, Dec. I'm indoors by a fire waiting to die and be
reborn and repeat the cycle, making plans and living and dying in the
moment.

      So Falltime is recordingtime and I hope to have a new album soon-
It's already been 5 months since we put out Make Out The Sound- 5 months
is too long- forever ago!  (All of the world is a joke, especially the music world,
taking itself seriously)

      Why do musicians become obsessed with recording their music?  There's songs
from the vaults waiting to have some light and fresh air shed on them as well as new
ones, that have never been performed with anyone or properly produced, and now
that is the motion put forth.  However, no stress in the end as far as recording- Mozart,
Beethoven, Bach, all of these fellows never recorded music, did they?

      I've been driving through these spread-out American cities from OKC to L.A. and
all around the west, and I'm longing for an Old World city to walk around with windy
little roads and alleys and curves and loops to go get lost.  Let's start building more
American New World cities like these old time cities and walk around-  at least a few
more over here this way.  It can take three hours easy to go 10 miles in L.A. and most
of these cars you look at jampacked along the road have one person in them.  And I
look at the Hollywood sign and I think oh it's a foggy morning then I realize no, this
is smog- the Smog of your Dreams.  Smog Magic.
      We got a parking ticket there, but since I'm contesting it for no extra fee (playing dumb), it has a 90 day hold on it.  Before, I've called places and asked if I could have my parking ticket expunged, because there wasn't a sign you could readily read, and abracadabra it worked, a few times.
      Some things come in threes, or clusters, because we were at a house party briefly and though it wasn't me, one of us saw W. Lips sitting on the back porch and thought, what a poser, trying to look like him, and as it turned out it was him.  So a few blocks down, we decided that was enough, and we went back to ask him if he really was Wayne Brady?  Didn't we see you on Whose Line Is It Anyway?  But he was gone.  Vamoose.  Then we were, too, and none of us were any of us anymore exactly like we were before.


  

3 Weeks and 6,000 Miles of Bug Guts

         Got back some days ago from that home on wheels.

An episode yesterday (I'm attempting to write these earlier

in the week now so everything isn't rushed and pressured),

and this I didn't realize until after I was in the parking lot:

I had 2 encounters with 2 famous Wayne's in 6 days. 

Looked up in a coffee shop and there was Wayne Coyne of

the Flaming Lips almost sitting next to me, talking to some googly-eyed girl.  

A few feet away, he stirred his coffee and went on his merry

way.  We looked at each other for a second, and I'd been 

debating about introducing myself, or what I'd have to say, but

schmoozing's not really my specialty, so I just said an old-fashioned

"How's it going?" but he didn't seem to hear me, maybe all those loud concerts.

Or maybe he did and replied and I didn't hear him.

I met with Matt McCleary after this on a patio cafe, and he laughed aloud

and said it sounded like a SNL skit.  "So you didn't say anything a second time

because you feel stupid."

    The other one was Wayne Brady on his Hollywood game show, Let's

Make A Deal.  Something about Wayne Brady, when you mention his name,

people just chuckle. McCleary said I should've asked Wayne Coyne, "Hey,

are you Wayne Brady?"  

    Close encounters of the third kind- close encounters of the Weird Kind.
    A few days later I ran across him again.
    Oops. Time is precious and short- I'm writing a story right now and also working
on a new album.  I'm hoping to do 2 albums a year.

---

Oh all you beautiful women with your loser lovers,
You struggling, fed-up men with your needy, whiny females
I am a spirit that floats in the air
All you ugly people with immaculate hearts
You mediocres with little drive
To you who think you own the land
when you didn't even build your own house
To those who sleep on sidewalks
Eventually, to all
Don't let money or no money get you down
Breathe the sky
It's yours for the taking
Don't be afraid to be too nice
or to step on the right person's toes
This is some kind of war
Money and "careers" is why
we're all rich, in between and poor
Let's rethink
Let's relearn
Let's start rebuilding our world from the ground up.


So if I start spouting such idealistic, so-called unrealistic talk
are they going to call me socialistic and balk?


These notes from the Studonym flow freely through the air.
Some of the most fun in life I've had was being a loser- reminds
me of Smells Like Teen Spirit- oh, so it's the 20th anniversary of
Nevermind.  Oh, well, whatever, nevermind.

Not too sure blogging is really my style.  It's hard enough to do one thing
well, on top of that, do another one well.  Or juggling 10 or more different
things it's easy to get sloppy or not be wholly efficient but for some reason I'm
mad-set for fulfilling a Tuesday deadline unto myself.

Tuesdays can be fun, boring or be the blues, or they can be filled with Notes From the Studonym.

Our only problems are usually just not having enough time.

At any rate, back from the West, working on putting together a tour of the Eastern seaboard.

Must take actions, regardless, or we become dull and stagnant, or, if you're a talented daydreamer, then I guess it's a different story.  It's difficult at times summing up universal truths in a single quotable sentence.  Maybe I should just quit writing and listen to sounds.

If you hear all different sides of an argument, how do you make a point?  Except by saying, what is IS.  One time we discussed the concept of Isism.  And my being needs rest.

-----

Heading to L.A.

It was sunny and blue without a cloud in the sky in San Fran most of the time and further

on down the coast, but then we drove through a blanket of fog and were a snake of cars stuck behind a truck so have gone a little over 200 miles in 7 hours. Nice scenery of course but lousy timing and unfortunately booking through third party internet sources disenables a person to simply change a hotel room to a closer room along a highway because it's “out of their hands” or the system is always just a bit too stupid or you can't get a refund so tired travelers either travel tired or lose money. Another strike for impersonal technologically advanced communication of modern times. Oh well...

Now zipping along typing on a highway, some pig-looking thing or short warthog or dog

or what ran out in front of us and thankfully made it scot free. Will post again, just wanted

to make a Tues. letter happen and say hello, we're pulling over and getting gas right now and

sending this off from a Mickey D's.

XXX

Jimmy The Gingerbread Man-

Jimmy the Gingerbread Man,

red hot cinnamon buttons

and icing cuffs,

wanted some candy, late at night,

so he took a bite

one by one

of his cinnamon

button

until suddenly he was full and done

Then looked down with candied eyes

and let out a gasp of surprise

He was naked, he'd eaten his clothes

spared his eyes, but even munched his nose

He was a piece of nude food

Now how he felt so intently

that life was fleeting

especially when you can't stop eating

yourself

All the other cookies on the shelf

laughed and pointed and taunted

and little Jimmy felt haunted and kooky

showing off his dough felt spooky

So he devised a plan he would hatch out of the jar

at 5 till midnight and seek

goodies ornaments and decorations from a cabinet

So he laid 'neath a cookie sheet

silently counting the hours

He didn't know how good of a climber he was

or if he could really open a door

but suddenly the light shone in

the lid was ajar

and into the eyes of a cookie monster

all of them stared frozen,

a freckled fatty of twelve

began a massacre of the dessert shelves

A few unfortunate ones were immediately devoured

by the hungry human that towered,

but that monster must not've liked the taste

of gingerbread he swallowed in haste

and so he picked and plucked off their buttons

sucked and chewed them down,

licked off their icing

and left them there,

naked and free,

no one dared to laugh or throw a jibe

for they were all as one in their Gingerbread Tribe.

(started a few weeks ago in Belle Isle, OKC,

finished 2:55 pm, Seattle, WA)

Rolling through Boulder

        Sitting in a spot called the Laughing Goat right now in Boulder, CO.  I'll keep this quick, because we're on the go.  But first, I'd like to say that we went on a 6 1/2 mile hike up a mountain to the Continental Divide yesterday afternoon, and when I paused to catch a breath and get a drink of water, I turned around and even though we were both wearing sunglasses, I a hat, he a bandanna, we recognized each other immediately and called out each other's name.  It was Dane Pryce, a neighborhood friend of mine who grew up down the street from me.  We ran around the neighborhood trails in elementary school with the other kids, and a friend recently asked me about him, but no one seemed to know what had happened to him.  It's been probably 12 or more years since I've seen or talked to him.  So we walked up a mountain together, and they went ahead to race the storm clouds and eventual coming of the dark, for they were camping through the night. Tonight is his going away party in Boulder, for he's heading to Brooklyn the next day.

    I remember him being around a thick, mossy pond when the neighborhood kids were pushing each other in, and I can't remember if he was on the giving or receiving end of the pushing.  A caravan of us went to a concert together and about 15 of us got stuck in an elevator, crammed together for what felt like 15 minutes.  Just random memories.

     We're headed to downtown Denver to play tonight, then we'll be on our way to play in Portland on the 10th.   If you or someone you know is around any of these towns, including Seattle, San Francisco or Santa Fe, come on out.  Check these show dates here for directions, times, etc.  

      There's a new facebook page entitled:  www.facebook.com/thegardes  We're late on making a page there.

        I keep thinking the guy sitting at the table to my right is Mel Gibson.  I heard a story yesterday how Bill Murray walked into a restaurant in New York one time and everyone quietly watched him, and then when he left, he picked up a fry from a guy's plate, dipped it in ketchup, took a bite and told the guy, "No one will ever believe you."

      P.S. Nevermind he just walked behind the coffee counter.  Well, no one seems to have heard from him in a while, and he is an actor...

Darling Ones,

    Willie Cry Records is pleased to announce that American Darlings, a new band from Brooklyn, New York, has just signed on board the label.  For those who are fans of bands like Sonic Youth, Dinosaur, Jr., Weezer and just classic, loud and melodic rock, then you should hop over to the Willie Cry site, scope out their bio page, and check out their two EP's, which, by the way, they are passing out to their beloved fans as a free download.  So go and check out some new New Yorkness over there.  Here, I'll make it easy for you and provide a link you can follow:  AMERICAN DARLINGS

      Hopefully, they'll be putting out a full-length album before long.

      Damn, it's a conscientious exercise posting a blog on a regular weekly basis.  It seems simple, but it's deceptive.  OK, in reality, it's not too hard, but in unreality, which is where a lot of our thought processes take place, it is hard.  It's easy for me to have scruples- everybody promoting themselves all the time, all the time.  I don't want this to be viewed that way.  This is hopefully a shout out of variety, sometimes short, sometimes long.  Sometimes it's just a story, or randomness, or it's something perhaps of interest you can go and scope out, maybe get a freebie.  True, some things are for sale, too.  

      I admit that I like the magic capabilities of computers, but I also like to give my eyes and brain a break from the staring light of them that has come to encompass society now and look into other things. Every now and then, I can see faces in practically everything I look at, and they seem to have some sort of soul embedded in them.  I know I'm not crazy, because I can show them to other people.  

     I still plan to do the majority of anything I write in notebooks, and then type it.  There's less distractions there, no icons to click on.  It feels like holding time in your hands, or just being a time traveler from an ancient world that wasn't so long ago.  Also, you don't have the pressure of knowing that several people will be reading what you write almost immediately, so it feels somehow more personal, and you can go over it and choose to share it or not at a later time.  Well, all of these styles and ways of doing things have their own pros and cons, I think.  Here I am dabbling in these various techniques.  What's the point?  I feel like I know a lot of people, but I don't really know that many of them very well anymore, if I ever did, but there's just some desire there somewhere to connect.  Is it called being human?

     So as much as I like the idea of doing a regular column, I also dislike the whole predictability of it.  But if you change that word to "consistency", I don't mind.  And then again, what's wrong with being predictable?  You can "predict" that someone's going to try and do something they like to do.  And by now, words can become vague and near meaningless.

    Part of me doesn't want to expose anything personal on a regular basis, the other wants to be all revealed, all exposed, brought to the light, and to be exposed.  Which side will win? I'll think about that for a bit.  

    And this isn't supposed to be all about me, even though I am writing it.  Questions, anyone?

P.S. though we've been slow to make a Facebook page and the whole "Like" thing is kind of silly, I suppose having a page could come in handy when we're out touring around.  They have some silly rule that you have to have 20 likes before you can get your personal address- so if you're just, like,  really, like, feeling like "liking" something today, go to: http://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Gardes/211136425574471

It's a work-in-progress.

New movie released-

The Gardes present: ? the movie: Only An Impression vol. 2

now available here

Also available as download-to-own or download-to-rent

A musical mystery directed by Alexander Anonymous- a P.I. who calls himself Bob Dean is hired to find out who is behind the spray-painted question marks and other graffiti around the city and soon finds himself on a hunt to find out about the elusive Frank Lava, questioning his existence and discovering the self-portrait of Frank Lava, hot on the trail of the Gardes. Featuring Bubba Keltch as Bob Dean and starring Brett Horton, Aaron Siemers, Tanner Blair, Victoria & Ola Orlowski, Cate Kelly, Andy Smith, Aaron Frisby, Josh Coombs, Danny Edwards, Joel Hibbs, Joshua Smith, Shaun Buller, Jarrod Chisum, Brad Hayes, Brian Hopkins, Justin Castro and maybe even you!

songs by Horton and/or Siemers and friends AKA the gardes

also music by Django Reinhardt

courtesy of JSP Records

Finally, this movie is out of the hatch, battle scars and all, and it is also available through Amazon as a hard copy DVD. It is also available as a download-to-rent or download-to-own via Amazon Video on Demand.  One questionable thing about this film is that if you type in "? the movie" in search engines, it won't show up, as in Amazon... so you need to type in "Only An Impression vol. 2" and there you will find it.  Just as "The Gardes" doesn't show up in the search engine of Youtube.  But one thing all of these silly gooses running around chasing fame seem to forget is that being invisible certainly does have its advantages at times.  Just ask Harry Potter.

And another thing to keep in mind is that it's best to listen to it LOUD, like being at the IMAX, for being a low budget film as it is, there are a few actors who mumble a line from time to time, and it may be a bit integral to whatever plot is transpiring.  Sure, if it was given the Hollywood treatment, it could be polished a bit, perhaps with a touch of ADR (Audio Dialogue Replacement) here and there, and in certain parts, this was intended to be, yet there was a jam with the digital file.  Maybe we'll re-release it sometime and correct the few mutterings, but when we test-screened it in a movie theatre, everything was quite alright.  Enjoy!

Eight-Sixteen-Eleven

Here are the upcoming Gardes shows.  We hope to see you along the way.

9-2-11    The Gardes  w/ The Gussissin @ VZD's, Oklahoma City, OK, 10 pm

9-6-11    The Gardes  @ Quixote's,  Denver, CO, 10 pm

9-10-11  The Gardes  @ Music Millennium, Portland, OR, 5 pm

9-14-11  The Gardes  @ El Corazon,  Seattle, WA, 7:30 pm

9-16-11  The Gardes  live on Mutiny Radio, San Francisco, CA, 4 pm

9-18-11  The Gardes  @ Brainwash, San Francisco, CA, 8 pm

9-23-11  The Gardes  @ Cowgirl BBQ, Santa Fe, NM, 5 pm

Looking very much forward to this and getting things ready.

Going on a Sonic Youth bender right now, just acquired a batch of some long lost albums from my collection and some I've never had in my possession.  Also, Spin Magazine is celebrating the 20th anniversary of the release of Nirvana's Nevermind, and they're giving away a free download of a tribute album.  A different artist for each song offers their own rendition of a song from that album.  Meat Puppets and the Vaselines pay back the favor.  It brings it back in a fresh way, and now I remember how much I loved that one (and I still do).

Get it here:  Spin Magazine's Newermind tribute album

Cheers, mates.

                                

                   "If You've Seen One, You've Seen Them All" is a collection of paintings and drawings by

Aaron Frisby and Todd Golnick

with a foreword by Brett Horton

order here 

Unroll the Scroll, Put the Rubber Band Around Your Wrist

My friend and I used to talk in our notehand class, so we got separated,
but we developed our own kind of notehand.  We called them "illegal
notes," and they consisted of a tiny torn piece of notebook paper that we
wadded up into a tight, wee little ball, and when the teacher wasn't looking,
we'd throw them across the room at each other.  They were usually just
random one liners or doodles with captions to make us laugh, and that's
how we got one over on the system, because laughter is a good form of
medicine.  They were way better than text messages, because we got to
aim and throw and be stealth about it.

Now look where it's gotten me.  Writing Notes From The Studonym to you,
and trying to keep it up on a weekly basis, like trying to turn homework in
on time.

For those in OKC on Sept. 2nd, the Gardes (an alternate version of) will be playing
at VZD's with the Gussissin.  Come on out.

Should be an experience of some sort.  The line-up on this particular night will be like the previous show, except we'll have Dereck Hecksher filling in on the drums.   

There will be a stripped-down duo version of the Gardes heading to do some dates along the west coast after this:  Denver, Seattle, San Francisco, we shall see.  We were hoping to have more of the band along and make it fuller, but, in all honesty, when it comes to this band or idea of a band: a) we don't have a van or anything like that   b) our bass player doesn't own a bass... yet.  c) our drummer that's playing this show with us is his first time playing live with us... and we've never played with him before, period, but we're not too worried  d) previous players have spread out to different parts of the country, and they have a real job and/or go to school full time because the music business is terrible.  e) one of our ilk was originally intended to meet up and go with us on the west coast, but is now being sent to Detroit at the same time- bad timing.  f) we thought we'd go ahead and hijack the name (not really) since we just put out an album, it's getting some favorable reviews (read latest review here), we're getting booked, we wanted to go on a road trip, so we'll just duo it up, and maybe next time we'll be fully formed or maybe we'll always be this higgledy-piggledy. (I don't think I've ever used that word, especially while talking out loud.  Am I turning British?)  Maybe we'll do more tour rounds and come fully formed.  I don't remember if I wrote this before, but if anyone's ever confused like me about what the Gardes is or who is in it, then I'll say, though I always wanted a steady group, and we've had some steady runs for certain periods, if you've ever been a comic book nerd or are familiar with it, then, as a group, we're kind of ever-changing like the X-Men.  

      Other than that, the website seems to have hit puberty.  

      More soon.

Just playing with buttons-

trying to figure out how to feed myself and how to feed others...

Well, there's a button over to the right you can press to subscribe to this 

feed of Notes From The Studonym.  

Concerning the name of this, I realize that Charles Bukowski used to write

a column called "Notes Of A Dirty Old Man" and that Dostoevski wrote the

famous "Notes From The Underground," some gritty works I believe, though

I've never read them all, but this takes it another step, seeing how we concern

ourselves with music often, there's the notes in the air, as well, that go in the ear,

and this doesn't  have much of the same vibration as the aforementioned.  And this

 is the 21st century, doesn't everybody get away with ripping others off now?

Studonym, if I never explained, is the name of our makeshift studio- "a pseudonym

for a Studio," you see.  And if I have explained, this just explains that I don't go back

and read the posts very frequently.  Though, the Studonym is a traveling studio a lot

of the time, easy to break down and set back up, and at times it's nothing more than a

notebook, or it's just the world around, as in the world is our studio.

Saturday night, you see, I experienced a wild soul that was a thankful breath of fresh air

in this surrounding domesticity that seems to have descended upon many of my

encounters recently.  Going into a late night 7 Eleven for a 3.2 beer run, the place was

teeming with last minute party people cramming to stock up on goods.  I walked back

to the corner of the store, pursuing the cold beverages, when I noticed the door open

and someone's feet sticking out of the cooler and on to the floor.

I walked up and looked down and the person slid out again for another look about.

"Ah, there's no Keystone 30 packs!" he raged.  Some young, long-haired guy who

immediately reminded me of Keith Stone.

"Well, there's Busch right over there," said I.

"No, I want Keystone!" he demanded  And he opened the door again, slid down to the bottom rack pushing everything around to find his treasure, there were his feet sticking out of the door once more, then he was all the way through and I saw him walking around back and forth all over the back of the cooler. As I reached in to grab some Keystone (now I was sold), I saw him walk by me again through the shelf, back behind the bottles and cans, on his urgent quest in the dark frosty chilliness.  I was surprised and a bit impressed by his determination.  The cashiers were swamped so they hadn't taken any notice.  When we pulled out of the parking lot, I saw him emerge from the store carrying two twelve packs of Keystone.  Biggest Keystone fan right there.  

I've seen a lot of funny things, and I worked daytime and graveyard shift in a convenience store for a year or so, but I never saw that.

And now- I'd like to say a few things-  the Willie Cry Records website is coming along.  We'll be adding more and rearranging, someday it may get completely rebuilt top-notch with a whole new style, but I'm liking it as it's coming along.

Also, Stay Wholesome the book is now available in a hardback, though hardbacks are a bit pricey, I know.  I never buy hardbacks, but I'd still like one, haha.  My publisher tricked me, saying for a limited time offer, if I changed an already published book or if anyone published a book with them, they'd get a free copy.  I assumed there would be a catch, but I went ahead and reformatted it, but I couldn't find an option to edit the inner flaps.  So I forgot about it until a half hour before the deal was up, went back and there I was able to work out the flaps, but I didn't see the offer anywhere, they were out of the office, they're an hour ahead of here, too, so I was stuck with a hardback.  Oh well, that's kind of cool.

Tiny Dude and the Superhamsters is re-edited.  Sure it's expensive, but they're crafted just for you and not mass produced.

And, finally, Open Heart by Sad Sad Bicycle is now released here, available at Bandcamp through Willie Cry Records. 

Enjoy!  More soon,

Brett

It's a shame-

I don't see the option to post vids here anymore
on this thing. Well, I'll try facebook. Watch
Lance Grover smoke an incredibly huge cigar here
at his wedding back in March. Set to the music
of Dos Hermanos Tornadoes, (2 Tornado Brothers).
AHH wait- I was on the HTML tab instead of the other
button- Watch here... - Amateur Web Designer

T-Shirts

T-shirts now available of the image below! Free shipping to your door in 3 weeks time-

Sizes

Small $20.00 Medium $20.00 Large $20.00 X Large $20.00 XX Large $22.00

Colors

White Ash Gray Black

All I was saying is-

     We have our O.G. (Original Gardes) movie, Only An Impression, available right here
for download-to-own  and  download-to-rent-  OR there's also a hard copy DVD, too,
for those enthusiasts of tangible artifacts. Also, here's one of the latest reviews from the
Gazette concerning our new album-  more coming soon!

6-29-11 P.S.

and the post below, like this one probably, is all jumbled up
in the formatting, and it's typed in perfect form before it's
published, and I usually go back and mess with it and re-publish
it several times so the paragraph doesn't look like it got drunk
and crashed, and so I grow weary of too much time spent on a computer.
I went out on a boat on the water tonight, and it was nice.

6-29-year of Eleven

      Fell out of the rhythm with this thing, friends, but that doesn't mean it's over.
Like I've said before, maybe it'll sink into a regular weekly column sometime,
which I'd originally intended it to be.  When it's ever been close
to that, I guess at best it was a seasonal column, but for now, I'm just throwing out
a word.  It's kind of hard sometimes to write a weekly letter to hundreds of people
without being a bit self-conscious and over-thinking it- you feel you're being personal
but you're not really one on one, so it's weird, but it's a bang of fun when feeling in
the groove, and I appreciate the comments from you who take the time to reply.
     So for now, just been overly busy with developing facets of the label that have
always been neglected, and it's a time consumer.  I'll never speak much of deadlines anymore,
because many of these things appear deceptively simple, and then drag on to encompass mass
amounts of time.  Even just now, I'm attempting a simple blog, and I've already written this and saved
it, but the connection was lost when I published it, and half of it was lost.  So now I'm retyping.
So I'll type the jist of what I was going to say soon, because this has now taken too much time.


  

Only An Impression now available!

The 1st Gardes movie is now finally available as a DVD for worldwide order!  Just click on the cover above or right here and it'll take you through the process to have one delivered to your front door...   This should also be available for rent through your online screen at Amazon very soon.

Or, if you just visit the music store at www.thegardes.com you can order it there.  We have new physical compact discs available for the first time in a long while of the following titles- Legends Of Voddville, O My Garde!, Regardeless 1 and Dos and a brand new, first-time printing of Regardeless the Third.  Don't forget the new album, too, Make Out The Sound.  All of these are available here. 

We look forward to making our first vinyl record as one of our next projects.  Stay tuned, there will be a new digital and physical album compilation coming from lo-fi, bedroom feedback folk/rocker, Sad Sad Bicycle.

New album now available-

You can listen to it here and buy a digital download if you so desire.  If you want a compact disc, if you're a die-hard lover of things you can touch, you can also order that through this link, and that comes with an automatic download.

Check out the new album here

Make Out The Sound is MADE-

well, almost, anyway, just need to do some printing and cutting and stuffing-

Handmade in the U.S. of A.

featuring artwork by Aaron Frisby, Angela Renee Chase, Victoria Orlowski, and moi 

(except I ripped my drawing off from a Todd Golnick doodle I once saw- with

consent. Mine's the ugly drawing on notebook paper.)

Come one, Come all to VZD's  next Friday night, May 6th, for the Gardes' new album release.

It kicks off at 10 pm with a stellar set by Sad Sad Bicycle and the Gardes will

be taking the stage around 11ish, going on second.  The Gussissin will then be playing

out the rest of the night.

Sad Sad Bicycle will be playing at the Norman Music Festival this Fri. night, April 29th,

at 8 p.m. on the DOJO stage- 2 blocks east of the Main Stage.  

The Gussissin will be playing the Norman Music Festival on Sat. April 30th at 2 pm on

the Zanzibar stage.

Also, I wanted to warn people that see this booked as the Gardes that, unfortunately, Aaron Siemers will be absent for this show.  He's played at every Gardes show except the very first one, I believe- not counting a few times when the band was booked but couldn't make it so I showed up to do a solo spot. Due to situations, he won't be making it back to OK for a bit after this, and when we had the slot open at VZD's, we decided to go ahead and release the album we made and do our live rendition of it.   We did however make the album with Aaron, and he is playing on it.  Tanner, our bass player for our most "live band about town" era, also makes an appearance on the record.  I have no intention of being an Axl Rose or Billy Corgan, i.e. playing in a band with no original members, but whatever, let's not take it all so seriously- and I don't think too many people can be accused of that with the state they've left me in, haha.  The bastards.  An alternate name for this band could just be called Make Out The Sound- we almost used that as a new band name, but screw it- what difference does it make in the end? We all die. So let's live.

For the show, our friend, Aunk of Stillwater- full-name- Aunkohau Tsoodle, will be playing the bass and Beau Jennings of the Gussissin will be providing the drums.  I'll be singing and playing along w/ Victoria O.   

Picking back up the blog/newsletter.

Album Release Show- VZD's, May 6th, Friday Night-

New Album- MAKE OUT THE SOUND by the Gardes

also featuring Sad Sad Bicycle  and  The Gussissin

collage by Angela Renee Chase,

flier by the Frank Lava Group

About this:

I'd been thinking about doing a few Gardes albums with Aaron Cord at some point, bringing in a female singer to switch up some of the ingredients, and it sounded like a plan.   I wrote several songs and began singing them with Victoria Pickle, who once performed on stage with me as "Peanut", playing a Planters can, which, by the way, makes for a great percussion instrument.  Soon, we had enough for an album's worth and she and I were in a cottage in Hawaii, originally built for the purpose of being a recording studio, as yet unused- so with a click of a button, we began recording on Pickle's sister's laptop.  This was intended to be done within a few days just to reflect the duo performance we'd given lately, so we were going to call it Make Out The Sound.  However, next, we met with Aaron in Portland, who immediately got the itch to throw down bass, percussion, etc. and soon it was decided to be the Gardes, and the album was entitled Make Out The Sound.  Now, the Gardes has shapeshifted once again.  It's a monster I can't really control.  Hope you can make it out.

Progress (It's A Snail's Life)

Greetings, Earthlings,

Technical difficulties should never get in the way of a party, if you ask me.
How do you feel about that?  Are you with me?
Willie Cry Records is soon to be releasing new stuff,
and is also re-releasing some of its favorite independently produced
albums via its site, building a library catalog of new, somewhat new and kind
of old.  Right now, on  www.williecryrecords.com, we're featuring, on our home
page, Aaron Cord's debut solo album, entitled SIEMO- Fossil Record, and it's currently
available on Itunes!

We also have Sad Sad Bicycle, and you can check out some of those downloadables.
I won't describe this, just let it speak for itself.

And we also have the digital re-release of The Gardes- O My Garde!

We're adding to the artist roster on the site, so if you thought you were on the label, looked and didn't see yourself, don't worry, don't spaz out, don't spit, you'll be up there soon.  Nothing Unreal was just added last night, an old mainstay.

For those of you near the OKC, there will be several upcoming performances of the Gussissin, check those out on the site-

If anyone's interested in obtaining any tangible artifacts, i.e. CD's, T-shirts (though these aren't posted anywhere at the moment, and there aren't really any made to my knowledge, but we could make some), just send us a message at williecryrecords@gmail.com  and we'll get something your way.  Real-life things will eventually be made available for automatic order, as well as that flighty digital shit.

Tip of the hat,

Gilbert Brayenstein

Checking In On A Monday-

      This is a tardy blog.
      That word "blog" truly sounds like you're puking words on to paper, no, not on to paper, on to screen.
     All the technological failures that surround us, i.e.  I had a short vid a few nights ago that I attempted to upload several times, yet it never finished the job, and I have uploaded things to the web before.  Maybe I'll get it up (in some form or fashion) soon. It's just a little over a minute and a half of Lance Grover (Gardes alumni) and Sasha Vennekotter's wedding, taking place down in Houston over a week ago. Down there, I heard a remark that I'm pretty behind on this blog, and yes I am, so now's to get back on track, and that's one of the great things about working for yourself is you don't have to fire yourself, even if you can't always pay yourself.  This hogwash I said earlier about a new newsletter coming from Willie Cry Records instead of the Gardes may still go into effect, eventually, but not now- maybe never-
sometimes I brainstorm out loud and speak too soon.
      But now, Ladies And Gentlemen, Hermaphrodites, Robots and Animals Who Can Read- we humbly present (proudly, too)-  Willie Cry Records  at  www.williecryrecords.com   Please go there and shop around a little- I'll have you know that it's a label and site-in-progress.  Pretty simple, basic stuff right now.  The site is in its infantile state and should grow and evolve as the months and years unfold.

      Recent activity:  low-fi, avant bedroom folk punk something musical outfit known as Sad Sad Bicycle has joined the ranks- currently, the EP titled Desert People is being displayed on the Willie Cry Records home page- follow the link there to check out a few more recent releases by Sad Sad Bicycle.

      The Gardes just released O My Garde!  digitally through Willie Cry- check it.

      I'll also have you know that I started to go on various rants about the world out there, but I decided to
hold my virtual breath and fill you in on the sunshiny things you can experience through Willie Cry Records- more artists coming to the roster soon.  I'll save any ranting for another time.  This is Willie Cry Records birthday, he/she's been in the womb a long time and just popped out.  Clink your glasses to the songs to come.

Visit us at:  http://www.williecryrecords.com
                   http://www.facebook.com/williecryrecords

Tell your friends and forward this on.  If you don't already receive this and would like to be on the newsletter, send a message to: williecryrecords@gmail.com

O My Garde! now available online here-

Click here 

Love,

Willie Cry Records

Launching A Music Label!

     We're in the process of launching a site for our label- Willie Cry Records, which has mostly just existed like a kid at play until now. There's a lot of new people onboard getting involved behind the scenes. In the meantime, we have a new site on Facebook- it needs 25 "fans" to "like" it before it can get its own username.  So- if you'll check out the work-in-progress by doing a search for Willie Cry Records on Facebook and "liking" it, that would be helpful, and we'll buy you a virtual ice cream cone- oh, wait, that's one thing that can't be done online still.

      We really hope to get music out there to you that you'll like.  It will be diverse, and I know how picky some people are, not everyone is likely to like every single artist, but we hope we can give you a pretty good "like" percentage.

      This is obviously all in the building phase, and we're open to fresh ideas and new faces who'd like to be a part of this.  If you live it and breathe it, send us a message at williecryrecords@gmail.com

Also, we'll be sending out a weekly newsletter under Willie Cry Records soon- Those of you who receive the newsletter from the Gardes will soon be receiving it under the heading of Willie Cry Records-  I'll still be writing it, though, so, basically, the same thing.  My sincere apologies for those of you who accidentally received any spam from Willie Cry- I immediately contacted the administrator and it should be taken care of.  Please contact me if you receive anything like that, though.  The newsletter won't be coming from that e-mail address, though.  We'll put a CAN on that SPAM and EAT it!

No worries.  If you prefer not to be on this list, let us know, and you will be "blacklisted."  That is to say, deleted.  We hope you stay with us, though.  It will be fun.  Ask your friends if they'd like to join.

Of course, if you already follow the blog- http://bretthorton.blogspot.com  and you're being notified twice, let me know, and I'll put you solely in my personal e-mail, if you wish, if I know you in the real world.  Or, if you have a cool sounding name.

Sincerely,

Brett Horton

LISTEN AND BUY OR TAKE ORIGINAL MUSIQUE HERE