Hi all ... Went to this festival last weekend. It was a great one. There was this guy at this snack stand, lookin' right at me yelling, "Hot Samwich! Hot Samwich!"
I just kept on walkin' and said to myself, "Yep ... that's what they call me." Peace, -Todd
Hi all. Music is the universal language. The language of Love, that crosses all barriers. Now I will bare my soul ... I know christians, jews, buddhists, germans, muslims, hindus, englishmen, and so on.
The world has not got enough love in it. Period. Be different - help spread love and understanding, bitch! Did you realize that there are half a billion chinamen in this exact moment who are NOT reading this blog right now, and they just don't give a shit! Consider the hugeness of the world. It is not small at all, as they say, it is HUGE. Complex. Simple? I keep on typing ...
I know people who have never been outside of Kansas, and they seem stupid. (to some) But they are wise in their own way, too ...
It seems to me that everyone has a piece of the truth. The problem is that everyone only sees their way of thinking. Are we so small, so shallow to only see one way of thinking?? I only say this because I've seen these muslims, jews, germans and englishmen and so on "get together" around and over the music. Why do they suddenly agree? (in the presence of music) These ideas are superficial, people, that tear us apart, these divisions and disagreements can be repaired. Let's tune in to the universal thing that binds us together as human beings. We are one. ALL of us. Erase the confusion and tune in. Dig it?? Peace, -Todd
(P.S. Todd says that if you don't get this message, he's gonna rip your head off. -Editors.)
Wow - so much happened today, a magical day, what a melancholie day, and like they say, "I still haven't found what I'm looking for."
"They call me the Seeker ..."
I started this blog three years ago - and ya know what? I haven't had a home this entire three years. Imagine that! What a bitch. What a wild ride it's been. I've been making love, movin' and groovin', recording, visiting so many of you. West Side Ken in Mexico, Eliot in L.A., Micha in Seattle, Dave Blomberg in England, Todd tha bassman at Ani DiFranco's shows, Air's shows (pure magic), Green Day and the Live 8 benefit, my dear Anja and Tanja, Monkey Business in Bratislava, all those festivals, hi to everyone in Santa Barbara, my sister in fucking Alabama, friends in Chicago, Berlin, Schwerin and Prague. All those places and faces. FUCK! Just wanna say thanks, y'all. Thanks for helping, thanks for listening. Fuck - I am pissed off, a bit outta control (but I'll regain it), drinking coffee, listening to AC/DC, feeling melancholie, listening to the rain, dreaming of love, feeling furious and writing music that pours from my soul ...
Ahhh ... to be or not? In Love ...
Berlin - city of Love and Hate. Now I must admit it - I'm 92 per cent in love with this girl. Yes, it it love or just an affair? Not knowing, I go to this other friend of mine (a girl) who tries to advise and console me over a series of beer. We get funky (not a sexual term, per se). She says to always follow your heart. I love my life! It's 4 in the morning on a Tuesday, and we're in that pub in Friedrichhain. She has a boyfriend, I have a girlfriend, we talk about everything under the sun - for example, how to eat pussy in the most pleasurable way. (For both partners.) Yum. We laugh, and agree that we are both feminists. We laugh again ...
We watch 2 people kissing in the corner. Scrumptious. Now it's almost 5 in the morning. I go over and tell them that we enjoyed the show! I come back, it gets more serious, and I say, "The problem with my new girl is that she loves me, but she can't really say it. To me, that's nuts. Have you ever been in love with someone, and didn't tell them?"
"Yes ..." she says whistfully.
Good MORNING! Woke up somewhere in Prenzlauer Berg, and someone was cranking Led Zeppelin at quarter-to-eight in the mourn. Man, I love Led Zeppelin. Brings back alot of baseball stories ... I'll explain:
When I was a young american, trying to grow up, we watched movies like "Field Of Dreams," and I was on the baseball team. Yep. Like all good american youth (boys that is). Girls play softball. Anyway, I grew up with guys with names like Doug Draining and Kirk Angloson. Kirk wasn't the smartest guy on the block, but he had a perfect body and was a pretty good linebacker, (livin' that american dream) and he used to screw alot of good-lookin' cheerleaders. He was voted the Homecoming King. He was also my friend. We all played ball. I used to say I loved baseball because it was a non-violent sport ("Whatever," Kirk would say). But we could both agree that is was cool because you could drink beer during the season, and still be fit - one could still swing a bat with a hangover. Heh! Kirk had the loudest ghetto blaster (aka boom-box) on the baseball team. He used to crank Led Zeppelin, when we were on the bus, off to day trips in podunk towns like Boone, Panora-Linden, Gilbertville, Southeast Warren, and Postville. We went everywhere. We were cruisin'. "Ramble On" was my favourite song (on Led Zeppelin 2). He liked "Livin' Lovin' Maid." Kirk was a macho, but I loved him. We were dandies. (Now he lives in Omaha - go figure.) All these memories came flooding back this morning as I awoke, on the other side of the world, where kids are also playing Led Zeppelin 2. Wow. I bet they never played baseball, or have never even been to the Lynville-Sully baseball park, (consult map of the Midwest) but they still know good music when they hear it. It's universal. One time, Kirk and I, and a van-load of other heat-seeking christians (we were about 15) went on a youth trip to the Appalacian mountains. It was about a thousand miles each way. Man, that was cool. I'll never forget getting lost in those smokey hills, driving in that van together. Rain-soaked memories. We drank home made moonshine, talked to hillbillies in the mountains, and cranked out "Led Zeppelin 2" on Kirk's boom box. On that trip I met a cute girl from Tipton, Indiana named Stephanie Grumble. I swore my un-dying love to her, and said that anytime I heard Led Zeppelin, I would always think of her. She said that Indiana's a great place to live (except that the KKK headquarters are there - oh, well - nobody's perfect). So ... keeping my word ... here's to thinking of that girl way back in Indiana, hats off, because I heard Led Zeppelin today at the crack of dawn, somewhere in the shadows of Berlin. Rock 'n' Roll. Revolution. Peace. -Todd
He's a musician. A good one. We go and jamma-lamma together in a secluded rehearsal space in East Berlin. Dank, dreary. The police come because we're too loud. The night is a success ... Pigs in Zen. He tells me that he used to get into fights alot, but now he's changed his tune. Just like Miles Davis, I say. Yeah, he goes, that's right. I tell him that it's a drummer's job to HIT THINGS (if ya think about it). Beat, beat, beat that drum. He's a mad one, yep, but quite creative and intelligent. We hit the bar, too. Later, he asks me all those questions:
He asks: "Why do you travel so much?"
I give him all the answers.
He asks: "Why have you been staying in all those different places?"
I tell him the truth, that all the rent money that "normal" people pay, I sock away (as they say) and give it to the MUSICIANS.
"That's very noble."