People ask why I don't like cops
Well ... because cops don't like me
While they are trying to control everybody
I just want to be free
(And yes, I'll question their authority)
Cops are like fathers with no love
in their hearts, beating you at every turn
The more they "protect," the less they serve
When will they ever learn?
Like a jazz solo or an endless waterfall
The people will scream free (eventually)
Can just one song bring down a system?
Restitution, Resolution, sweet Anarchy
We don't want no World Police
Don't think it's the right way to go
Did you ask the people if they want this?
Didn't think so ...
(melody to follow)
Notes from the Underground ...
I was riding the subway, see, and these two kids started annoying everyone by stomping their feet in unison. I saw the dismal looks on the faces of oldie fogies across the way, shaking their heads at the two rubes. It was hilarious. I slowly turned my head towards the boys with a serious look on my face. Very serious. Saw their eyes widen, as they wondered what I would do. It those few seconds, I probably looked like all the other disapproving lemons on that train. Then suddenly, with my gaze still fixed, I started stamping my feet in perfect time with them. They laughed, realizing that I was on their side. Then, as we made spontaneous music together (stomp, stomp) I turned my madcap gaze towards those people who had been staring at the boys. I deadlocked on them instead, while continuing the beat. That made it even funnier! In essence, We 3 flipped the bird to "the man," yes, we made fun of all those who were too busy pouting about their miserable lives. Presently, as if wanting to extend a hand those those forlorn souls (with no humour!) we started snapping our fingers, just as funny, but just a bit quieter ... Snap snap snap went the sound, echoing through that somber tube. It was good fun. It was a moment of synchronicity that I'll never forget. We even got one of the sour bunch to convert, to laugh along with us. A mini-jam le musicale with young musicians to be?
They got off at the next stop, with smiles on their faces. We never said a word to each other. We "high fived" and then they were gone ... Peace, -Todd
Up all nite with the Zany Australians and many/much exultant discussions in the panda bar and the poetry bar and whoosh! past the oldnew year and the furious Life of those (Souls) who desire nothing but a tinge of mystery and cocked mockery, a desire to roam. Soar and explore. Watched the sun coming through those wooden beams, creaking and moaning, reconfirming the dawn of the new day! Makes one wonder what all those tallywhack yuppified moral high-grounders wish they knew just what they're missing ... Peace. -Todd
Hi all. Cannot wait to finish mixing me new CD. Had a dream that I was in that amazing studio, and it will be so ... make dreams real. I'm gonna mix my heart out, gonna mix my blues away. Gonna sound stellar. It'll be a mix of that good ol' classic Calico sound, with a few twists 'n' tricks thrown in. Gonna be so good it hurts. Peace, -Todd
Two things for the Santa Barbara Kid:
Number 1. I'm coming. Get ready ...
Number 2. (This one's a bit longer.) Man, oh man, that was one kick-ass show, no wait - an experience! I wore a t-shirt that said LICK BUSH (double meaning), folks were freakin'. And everything I said in that (now infamous) scroll aka manifesto aka letter to you is all true. And now even more so. The party is growing ... You must join the Calico circus of zany fun and trip and zip with us around the globe, 'cuz I can't always show up over there (but please see Number 1 above). Now here's the best part and indeed written only for you, and your love of madcap adventure and synchronicity and literature and sex and mayhem, and well ... you get the point! I took the subway to said gig, see, which was absolutely brilliant. Full of wild boyz (thank you, Duran Duran) and girls (by the way, at your behest I invited young tasty-morsel Lolita girl, also your Fruitgirl from that train, maybe they were there in that sweaty mass of humanity). And on the way I saw this kid of maybe 8 or 9 years old with his parents, and he was wearing a jacket and in big letters it read right across his shoulders:
Amazing! Ok, at the risk of turning this into an inside joke (for all the world to see) I must explain what this means. Fans in Sweden will read this and think it is some kind of obscure drug reference, which it is not. Right now I am sittin' in an internet cafe, near to nearby where we saw the original WHITE WOLF last year, also near that restaurant we went to that nobody goes to (yes, it closed because no-one ever went there, was closed awhile and then re-opened with new owners and yes, it is still always empty ... I sincerely believe we are the only ones who ever went in that place at all). Dear readers, Me 'n' the Santa Barbara Kid saw a guy who had a white wolf-looking wolfdog as a pet, and that became a sort of cosmic joke for anything wild and funny and outrageous. I have always believed that the sight of a wolf (white or any other colour) is a sign that something magical is taking place. Readers - do you believe in magic? So many lives are devoid of magic, it's sad. The SB Kid and I would shout out at random moments, "White Wolf!" for no apparent reason, and then die laughing. This I also did, as I sat on the tube and saw this kid with his WHITE WOLF jacket. I laughed out loud and no-one on that train could figure out why. They must have thought, "Just another wicked guitar player with mad ideas who laughs to himself?" But it was such a sign, a magic moment. Now then, I have never seen a jacket with WHITE WOLF on it. Have you? Maybe it's a very famous brand from some exotic designer label in Bangkok or London, so it's of no synchronicitous value whatsoever, but for me it was new. On the way to my show, in fact, outstanding! And it was orange. Yes, the jacket and letters upon witch WHITE WOLF stood was all screaming orange! This is the part, with much humour, that really got me. (Thank you, The Kinks.) I mean, it wasn't white, you see, it was not off-white, it was not cream with white highlights ... no, the White Wolf was ORANGE! Can someone explain this to me? I am a fashion rebel of sorts, and maybe I don't sway in time to the latest hip-fandango trends (puke!), but I simply do not believe that that was some random event on that train with a well-known brand called WHITE WOLF. No, no. I believe that was magic. The secrets of the universe revealing itself, reminding us to read the omens and dance to the beat of our own drummer. Fuck convention! Be yourself! Yes, that was some sort of sign, call it let's-rock-together, or I-miss-ya-Soulpartybro, or isn't-the-universe-deep-mysterious-and-amazing? or I-would-love-to-show-that-kid-the-secrets-of-the-power-of-Magic-but-his-parents-would-disapprove, or good-gawd-I-luv-this-fucking-train-at-this-moment! Question: was our first White Wolf sighting before or after we went hitch-hiking (and got picked up by sexy, married housewives)? We were wild. We were (and are) on fire. A ferocious fire of the damp forest, raging, where White Wolves and Hungrybears dwell. Remember that life is full of Magic, if we look for it. Routine kills inspiration, and Inspiration kills routine. Stay wild. See ya soon, animal. Peace, -Todd
(PS - did I mention that the White Wolf was ORANGE?)
Yo! First of all, I wanna say that you did a superb job in announcing our show as MC. Nice work! How does it feel to be a celeb? It's all just a warm-up for the tour of Ireland, a definite must! And I wanna thank you for selling CD's to pretty girls at said concert. That was a brilliant scheme to give prospective album-buyers a free beer (from the band stash). The guys working for the club couldn't figure out how many people were actually IN THE BAND, heh heh! And the sound was fat, oh yezz, fatter than Aretha Franklin. Drums and bass were cookin' and the snare sounded 10 feet thick. Crack! And what a serious bone! (Um, trombone - sorry, mom.) Hope ya all dug it. People were dancing from the very beginning, moving and grooving - and they did not stop. A good time had by all. Took off to the radio station for the late night after-show, found 10 bucks stuck between some of my CD's. Did you do that on purpose? Thanks! You are a source of constant support and friendship. Or maybe it just got lost in the mad exchange between band drink tickets and eXXXtatic drunken fans. When I returned to the club from the radio interview at 5 AM (!) they were playing Calico Soul on the DJ system and it sounded fucking great. Someone there must have bought one from you! We rocked out until noon. And no cops came. Sometime later, in that timeless haze, the soundman showed me that he has accumulated all three previous Calico Soul CD's. He produced them with a grin. I felt like crying, but I felt so good that all I could say was, "Burp." (Translation: "Thank you.") Now here's the best part: People asked me if you and I are brothers, I swear! I paused for a second and said (without lying), "Yes ... we are." Hats off to you, and hope to see you soon. Perhaps on that wonderful green emerald isle. Peace, -Todd
Hi mate! This one's for you ... you're a gentleman of the highest order. I enjoyed riding the horny train, eating nasty-ass noodles with terrible turkish tomatoes, playing pool, telling stories and jokes, and of course - sampling some of Europe's finest beer! You're great! Thanks for the train ticket, if a bit belated. How can the authorities know whether or not I cruised through Belgium (posing as you) in first class with a smile on my Hawaiian-esque face?! They'll never know - keep 'em guessing. Let it be known that one of us will certainly be the new Bond some day. Just wanna say that I enjoyed every minute, and we have a hard job ahead in convincing all (worldwide) that guys from your country and mine are not ALL wankers. You're up to the task ... Peace, my man. -Todd
Thank you for your kind words and thoughts ... I have two words for you: STAY HORNY!