Thanksgiving and the passion for writers

I'm sitting in midtown about to get my hands soiled by the inner bits of a turkey... i can't say that i'm unimpressed, but i can't say i'm impressed. its sort of on the fence, the thing that startles me is the type of music that pops into my head around this season. They are artists I have a strong affection for, but there is this characteristic quality to them that fits well with the color of the leaves and the scent of the air.

these people are bill mallonee, bob dylan's early love songs, toad the wet sprocket, wilco, etc. they have had a tremendous impact on the direction of this forthcoming record - and that makes me happy.

all that being said, right now i'm getting down to the boatman's call by nick cave. a beautiful record to be experienced only start to finish. Murder ballads also is to be experienced only the same way, but when you're cooking with your lady and the inexperience on both sides is apparent it is well and good to keep both minds as far from murder as possible :)

thanks for dropping in.