Blue Matter (1 and 2)

Mat Beaumains' Blogcast #1

---> Early December Jitterbuggin'



* Rip Reins' Reprise (w/ butchered lyrics)

* Welcome Remarks w/ Goofy Sponsor Break

* Beaumains' Walkin' Blues

* Introduction to The Guitar Stylings of Mr. Charles Mercygraft

* More Introductory Remarks Evidently in The Style of B.B. King

* A Fragmentary Blues Apparently About Taking Something (It) "Slow"

* Ten Years' Blues

* Another Goofy Sponsor Break w/ Doubletalk

* Bonus! Woodshed Cut-off Selection: Smoke Broken Methods (a 9/11 song)

---> 'Free Swim'



* Instrumental Blues Jam in E. (You gotta do it, see.)

---> Dept. of Shits & Grins: Gear Discussion Addendum



* Cheesy guitar playing (possibly a bore) / Guitar effects unit tryout. Ends @ 6:20

* Gear Discussion: DigiTech RP90 guitar effects unit; Boss MicroBR digital recorder; Fender Super 60 tube amplifier.

* "Jimi Hendrix Mode"

* "The 'Yes' Tone"

* "Guitar players will cut you apart."

* Goofy sponsor breaks

* "No."

* "I bought this thing. This thing has a chip in it."

* "Dewey" wah blues tones

* "Baffled"

Rip Reins' Ode (2)

Root Lyrics

Triggering Towns

Verses:

When the blues start traveling
You strike out for the triggering towns to the North
If the truth is too withering
Don't lie down with her graceless shape forlorn
If the trees in your darkest mind start to flame in the night
You can still try to dream

If the tide is ripping you adrift from a slip
Between raucous and wasted wharves
There's a wavelength where sanity's boatswain can save you
But don't raise your mast in a storm
On the sea, on a darkling night, phosphorescence may soothe you
By the light of the moon

If the grey sky's tainted your days and your thoughts
Seek the light like a graveyard cross
If this old town's pattering prophets enrage you
Take flight like the birds aloft
Drop you seeds on a windy night when the summer's calling
Let the world do it's work


Middle:

Cut away now to your truest face
Don't fade now, it's too late in the day
Take the stage now with your truest visage
You're safe now, you'll be OK

Fall in now with you selfsame drummer
The beating heart that you know
Fall in now with a marching cadence
You know just where to go

You know...

Simple Simon

Verses:

I've got a crazy partner
I should not pretend that I do not know
He's got a crazy heart
And he's killing me behind the door

And I'm in no position
To pretend that I do not know
He is not forgiven; if he says he is
Then it's all a show

Man. I've got a creepy feeling
He's got an appetite I do not know
He's gone voracious starkers
And the only thing he wants is more

And there is no derision
That could knock him from the high he's on
He's says he's gonna mainline freely
That he's tired of laying low

He's says there'll be no division
Let my dendrites be tenterhooks
I keep a noble fire
Like that one from so long ago


Chorus:

Simple Simon understands:
Childhood's a broken teacup.
Simple Simon understands:
What you do. Life is like a racetrack


Middle:

You say you can't understand
Why I would live my life that way
With hair and clothes of a transient
That I could never make that pay

I could never be the architect
I could never understand the plan
But I don't want to have an argument
I don't want to call down your wrath


Last words:

So I proselytized on the bus.
Everything I got, everything I got.

Demos: Death of War Prophet / geology blues

Death of War Prophet -- lyrics.





Geology Blues -- lyrics.

shapes of 3

Hollis lives upstairs in the stable;

says he's a Houyhnhym

That's not funny

He's on the run from his Masters

And if he's caught, they'll skin him

That's not funny

He hates Led Zep and The Beatles

Because he wasn't in 'em

That's not funny

Ah, the shapes of yesterday

Not for nothing

But it all runs away

Like blood. Or water

Or blood in

water

***

I've got a crazy partner

I should not pretend that I do not know

He's got a crazy heart

And he's killing me behind the door

And I'm in no position

To pretend that I do not know

He is not forgiven; if he says he is

Then it's all a show

Man. I've got a creepy feeling

He's got an appetite I do not know

He's gone voracious starkers

And the only thing he wants is more

And there is no derision

That could knock him from the high he's on

He's says he's gonna mainline freely

That he's tired of laying low

He's says there'll be no division

Let my dendrites be tenterhooks

I keep a noble fire

Like that one from so long ago

***

Childhood is as a broken teacup.

creepy eating blues

got to get some:

carrot cake

chicken fried steak

shake and bake

pork loin

pork shoulder

pork rub

I want you

to rub my

pork

the compulsive mind

wants to:

salivate

masticate

penetrate

venerate

degenerate

anything but wait

I can't wait

I have

to have

you

sticktoitiveness

you need the sticker in the guts,
the pot boiler, the flying vaseline, excelsior,
so: maybe you have learned to hang
a bit more chevalier

but woof. yow. the scullery.
the galley. and I just keep looking
out the window. just keep looking
at the sun outside splicing cool and chill

on the air. I want
to get
out
there; dig?

who

Ambrosia: tactics spent and burnt
Tacitus said because they didn't know better
they called it Civilization
when lo it was part of their slavery.

I can dig that. Like I can dig
obsidian eyes lambent in dopamine
swirling above the stage
In glittering synesthesia

Who could sustain one thought
For all eternity?
Who would?
You know who.

You know.

the good stuff

always want a word like "byzantine"
moutharchitecting some chattery flowchart
pitch simmering thought miasma
and yet the good stuff
is like

prairie face (never)

(Goiterneck
Sludgefoot
Melontesticle
Billowcaul

A billowing call...

Broken feet
Mendax...Mendacitor!

That's what they called him
(that's what they called me)
That's what they called him
(yeah that's what they called me)

Moonshine traveler
Insanity cousin, chainsmoking
Gluehearted
Bellyshaved

Fool and Ghoul Broker
of Most Warped Mendelism!

That's what they called him
(that's what they called me)
That's what they called him
(yeah that's what they called me)

(yeah)
(yeah yeah yeah)

I make a soft pillow
From whatever I can get...
I make my highwayside offerings
From wherever I can stand...

NEVER

Hell. What?
I know it makes no difference to you
(You’re the outsider)
What I do
(You’re the outsider)

So I, I’m just content to sit
(You’re old)
With my old hands composed
(Not composed)
Over this plate and wait and feel
If you’re gonna weigh back to where you came…
(Never)

I’ll take a small triumph from whatever I can get
(Can’t get much)
I can hear the cars out
I can hear the cars out on 96
Where you going?
I know it don’t bode well for you
Looking to get your kicks
(Already got them, honey)

Oh well.
(Learning to love them kicks)
Guess I’ll shit-kick out of here.
(Ah, yeah)
No one gets out of here alive.
I know you’ve heard that before, too.

But hey....

new day

the world is full of sin and mordant depravity.
and human beings are ludicrous apes. now
this is the first thing you say upon waking.
and you know it not to be true. what is true?
true means level. you say a beam is true,
or a cut, or person. you say they are true blue

now you want to go walking outside and there are leaves
on the ground and they are many as the people are many
they plummet, twirl and cluster as do the people?
what a shitty metaphor. well, you try. but have you been?
I am now. Oh I surely am now. but you know what that Great
Man said about trying

the morning is full of light of one kind or another. I say now
that there is no sinister light, not the moon certainly, I don't know
maybe if you were looking down into a volcano
perched on the rim like a carapace
or I guess I mean parapet
but carapace is interesting,
interesting that that would have occured to me to say
because I think I have none

well this is all but for dithering

but. here is an idea:

the grey mist

and water is the landscaper; you step out on that runway every morning; bear it every morning; feel it moving every morning; The runaway runway; I am a fast hand on a cliche; So what? So aren't you? it's a passthrough. this here is just a passthrough

mah mah mouth it

You always mouth it up so much.
You'd kill for that boy's touch
Mash it out and walk away.
Come back again some other day.

Urge the mind.
Nursery rhymes.
Cursive line.
Urgent times.

>>>

Mott Cromby

Walks off into the pale mist.

See you later.

serendipity to the maximum

serendipity to the maximum
comes around for me
every time I get into this mood
where I want to reclaim my life
and be fulfilled

I think it might be God

Clandannat Road

The gas stations explode down on Clandannat Road
I am high above drinking on the cliffs
Where Chactaqualqa laid his risen bones
A thousand years ago this moonrotten night

the bee

I've got you now
(The shell of a bumblebee
woven allongside my path)
Oh, I've got you now

I see now, I see more clearly now
The way. Your way.
Who has not sinned in pride?
Who has not sinned, so many times?

Intercalary

I don't know if I really want to own all the old blog content I've vacuumed in here; a lot of it is really bad writing; but own it I do. It is for my own past present and future plunder is what I say.

Nipwilliger Troll, what you gonna do?

Nipwilliger Troll
How'd you get that weird name?
And your delusional sense of mission?
And your wholly irrational concept of a game?

I was graced with it by the Spastacualqa
When they cleansed my brain
In their cleansing light
By their cleansing rain

Nipwilliger Troll
What you gonna do?
How you gonna get money?
How you gonna get food?

Procure shelter
and worldly resources
What you ever
gonna do?

Spastacualqa
En Rentinqulum
provides me
with everything I need

All I do is think of things
And they are revealed
To me via the conduit
of your greed

your species' greed
your hunger
your need
on these things I feed

Nipwilliger Troll
You're a homeless begger
Or a captain of industry
Or a frat guy at a kegger

Or a fisherman at sea
Or a convict in a cage
Or a good man locked in sin
Or a conductor on a stage

Shifting shape
like blood
blooming in water
blue and cool

or blood blooming
on the pavement
from your spittle
lip and drool

Nipwilliger Troll
What you gonna do?
How you gonna get money?
How you gonna get food?

I am graced by the Spastacualqa
When they cleanse my nightly brain
In their cleansing nightsome light
By their cleansing nightsome rain

standing by the highway side

standing by the highway side
beneath the arch of the sun
I'm gonna be that guy
I'm gonna be that one
travelin dude who walks from tree to tree to tree
like Johnny wayback Appleseed

standing by the highway side
in the baking sun
I'm gonna be that guy
past the years I've shunned
with head chills crashing an ocean wave
your Atlantic master your soul could still save

Real
you gotta
make it real
you gotta
cut the deal
With yourself
once

and for all

on the move

we are on the move
we are burning crude
like that Walking Dude
we are on the move

get up or lay down
get a cut of the deal yo
you get cut you get real yo
get a cut of the deal you

we are on the move
we are burning crude
like that Walking Dude
we are on the move

Paranoia Downs

Your ashen gaze, no mystery
What this world does
is leach all your colors.
Leaves you wrinkled and scag

You imagine a pond here
A tree here
Some land of your own
And a view into time

The horizon, your line
You walk in design
Survey it and go
Survey it and go

Dark hands have fallen
they smite the stray
those cursed from the land
those lost from the way

you gotta walk a mile in my shoes to get out here
you gotta walk a mile in my shoes to get out here
you gotta walk a mile in my shoes to get out here
you gotta walk a mile in my shoes to get out here

the universe is here

walking up the road
in profound gravel
this birch tree for gavel
this one for to swing

Josie clammed up for years
But now hear her sing
In her moonshine and twilight
For her flowers I bring

the universe is here
the universe is here
the universe is here
the universe is here

in the constellation of the pines

in the constellation of the pines
you check your satchel, you check your stash
you brought the whiskey
you brought the cash

your hair is grey
your heart is brown
your house is burned
and you've been shunned from town

in the constellation of the pines
as you plot your revenge
as your blades you whet
o you of the town

you will get yours
yet

the blueprints

the blueprints? yes I have them here. why?
no they do not delineate marginal interests
yes they include instructions on how to fly

yeh and no not just in dreams. equinoxes are what they seem
or yes they are. doggerel in a dirigible. indivisible; everything washed in blue
all the prints, all the tinctures. they were sepia now they're in blues

sepia old; blue, new. like the blues in you. the blueprints, yes. I have them
Never mind the payroll
that is what

he is for
that is what
he gets paid

to worry about

Death of War Prophet

A cold dark night in a weird dark summer
You feel the lightning rising in the sky?
The night burns green.
What could it mean?
Could it mean that a king has died?
Could it mean that the Internet has lied?

The War Prophet came riding over the hillside
He only had one horse between his thighs
The other 4 horses left he left for Jesus Christ
The War Prophet knew his price
He knew he was not like Christ
Not yet

He came thundering over the hillside
Lightning shooting from his eyes
And long across the purple plain
You could see the farm house fires glowing
Men and women, girls and boys
Heads exploding from the noise
The War Prophet had looked too hard at the horizon
And the U.S. government saw him as Satan from his hell arising

His name was Lucius Cole
And he was just a kid
As he watched the bombs drop
And as he watched the bodies drop

They cut their throats on the plane.
9 months of rain.
The bodies rained down.
The bombs rained down.
9 months of rain.
And 9 more again

Standing there in the farmhouse fires' glow
Lucius Cole, a young man only recently reclaimed
From the maladies of the lost and shamed
From the maladies of a bastard name
Yet he knew he had to go
to the house of Washington

So he hit the road
He rode with the drovers
He rode in the dead trains among the corpses
And from the farmhouse living
He borrowed horses
And they gave him bread
And they gave him beer

In spite of a dark and murderous time
He saw Lincoln in their faces
(Abe, Honest Abe)
And in the sky bright flames
and burning roses

The majesty of the night
The blue and purple night
The cosmos like a caul
Blue and purple light

Who do you love?

Lucius Cole of the blood flag red
Lucius Cole of the blood flag red
Lucius Cole of the blood flag red
Lucius Cole of the blood flag red

Alienated Blues

I'm thinking about Sally
and what Sally said
She said you've got no birthright
You're not a prince
It's all in your head

I keep thinking about Sally
She said you've got no kingdom here
But alas, poor Sally's dead

They came to my chair
With a box
"Get your things
and exit by the loading dock"

I walked out past the dumpster
to the median
And threw away my shoes
And socks

I scrambled down the embankment
panicked
thinking about changes
and locks

I've got 47 dollars here
Think I'll go spend it on some Boone's
I've got 47 dollars here
Think I'll go spend it on some Boone's

Walk down past the culvert
Sit and drink by the river
all afternoon

I'm thinking about Sally
and what Sally said
She said you've got no birthright
You're not a prince
It's all in your head

I keep thinking about Sally
She said you've got no kingdom here
But alas, poor Sally's dead

The blue lights are my blues
And now your Daddy's off to jail
The blue lights are my blues
And now your Daddy's off to hell

the blue lights are my blues
such alien things
as through the universe
I moan and wail

back off the jinx

you gotta take time to back off the jinx
don't overthink or think for a minute
that you are sacrosanct
in your clarity here today
which should just be normal

back off the jinx
get encoded
encrypted
in your own glossolalia
you could call it "Glosso"
like something out of a Philip Dick story
some drug the space colonists take
to make them sound
interesting
to the other robots

Canal St. Blues

Woke up this morning
Felt around for my phone
Like my keys and my money,
It was gone

Don't feel like lying
to myself
for another day
so close to home.

Who wants to know is what I say
but you can call me
Old Walking John

*

I'm going to Canal St. station
Take the first Trailways bus I see
I'm going to Canal St. station
Take the first Trailways bus I see
I'll get drunk in White River Junction
Before heading up to Quebec City

*

I'll see you in the red lights
Like it's my last episode
I will see you in the red lights
Like it's my last season's episode
I've got the New York blues too
But they're fifteen years too old

expiate regret

pathetic & there
is a lot going on in here;
I hope;
why would you want to post it?
no, but would
you want to get it out?;
yes; for purposes of self;
yes, I guess

Expiate regret
make your choices
let results speak for themselves
and don't talk about it;
talking about the one thing
dilutes its power
& its magic;

you not only have to know this
but also

subscribe to it.

at the chapter meeting

at the chapter meeting
they wrestled the old guy to the ground
and at the chapter meeting
they said you will be ruthless and relentless
heretofore
and at the chapter meeting
outside by the water cooler
she sidled close to me
and I noted her dark hair
her green chemise
and her thigh-high
black nylons
and inside and among the actual air
at the chapter meeting
all was sepia and drab
but my screenshot indicated
a febrile land
of fervent talking animals
and scheming androids
and humans better than human
and worse than
and it was all caused by The Aliens
yeh
the chapter meeting was dope
maybe it was lies
anyway at the chapter meeting
they wrestled the old guy to the floor
and said you will be ruthless and relentless
in your one a day plus iron
and I thought
yeah, I can do that
it has begun now
it really has

begun

begun

it has begun
it has

begun

the impossibility

the impossibility
of even just the valve
of even just the flag
of even just to spell
and to signify
how am I gonna make you understand

I wanted the oath and I wanted
to do battle with time
no that's a lie
I rejected both
yes I do
no I don't

faced down in the field
a sandy field
leavened with dead birds
and dead worms
and a dead wood
and ash
and dead oaks

and they put a firing range back in there instead
and all the victims were deranged and depraved
but their masters made them that way
or maybe no
maybe they were good

I get so mad and vociferous
at you innocents
I am an angry sloth

I will see you
in

hell

upc

remember to tell yourself all the things you said yesterday sounds like a Beatles song about the unified process theory sounds like some corporately birthed nightmare

no recompense

u get:
awfully motivated
on a plane
trip out
you think,
The Mystery
The Momentum
of a Journey
but these
are just mystical
words aggrandized
cheap wages
from the mouth
nothing like
playing music
to a bare room
or a room full of
people
and there is no harmonica playing
in hotel rooms
either
no conciliation
no recompense
for all them
wasted
years

the spyware & the rabbit

what sucks is having to negotiate with the spyware and the rabbit. the toolchest is the only one who know hows to farm. the embryo just wants to talk. and I am there like, do you even know keys, no you don't, there used to be a thing called a hardware store, you'd go and have them cut, but all you motherfuckers know is these cheesy magnetic swipe cards. and they don't hold a charge. oh, it's fun enought for a breakfast buffet, not quite enough for the metropolitan ballet. I'm glad I'll be in the desert

Be minor riff

that B minor riff
that apocryphal riff.
but hey aint they all
in this rock game, anyway

you will be hearing it soon. you will be alive to it soon.
all you need is the words and the images.
all you need is love
all you need is just a bit more space & time

(why not just write it here, you ask? because this ain't the space for it.
falls outside the purview of this blog's methodology, if a
blog can be said
to have a purview. or a methodology

this is where I write
when I am fillin up the Internet
with other things
technicalerratachattautilimatamadhatta)

[and the Internet said....what the Internet said...]

Ride, ride, ride goes the chorus.
Or rise, rise, rise
Or hide hide hide

He said, I'm gonna let it ride, ride, ride

She said, I can feel it rise, rise, rise

She knew she gotta go hide, hide, hide

It was a shame and a crime, crime, crime

the song is the song of a boy name of Roddy. 2 boys actually
the father and the son
and their mother, Vicky Scow

it all started in the 2nd grade
out in the field where the kids would play
and down the ledge to the railroad tracks
where the days all take what they don't give back

my new methodology for songwriting is to just envision the scenes and the story while practicing the riffs and progressions
then mumble/moan some lyrics
then type them out
then repeat

Really ought to take some time
Hypomania.
Hew that rhyme

Attention deficit disorder. ADD.
it just means you think too fast

the invocation
and the pseudonym self-absorbed

create them days

clarity-centric

clarity-centric
marches
out of hand
understand
master salacious
master clown
mister
hard to around you boy
well why don't you
you can
lay in now
lay low
a layover
Lord are you marching slow
in the calliope
alabaster disaster go faster Zoroaster
you lost your alibi
motion clown
a slain beast
underground motion sickness
thwarts me
the chords are rampant
latency
philately
clandestine open show
broadsword mystery

rage sage
rage sage
rage sage
rage sage

rage

a rhythm

a rhythm a rhythm everything has a rhythm

and this could be:
your table
your braindump
your blueprint
your map
your lyric dump
your kinda diary

whatever

2/2 time

in my head all day today why'd you it said
just like the bones of the hand let em roll out like dice
let em rule, like the shapes of the words and the sounds
of the words, the cadences of the words; there is no empty
cadence. nor coda. every winter is a coda.
there are cells and there are cells

file 313 is on again like clockwork because I say it is
like frost on steel like frost on steel
branded brand new burns like brandy that's a good burn there
just don't lose yourself underground

no

see that is where you go to find things