The Lost Canadian

I'm guided by a signal in the heavens
I'm guided by this birthmark on my skin
I'm guided by the beauty of our weapons
First we take Manhattan, then we take Berlin
... Leonard Cohen

Things have been looking up lately. So why have I been listening to so much Leonard Cohen? He's not exactly the king of shiny happy music, is he? And this has been a very recently developed taste, as I have had very little interest in his music previously to the here and now.
Is it the whole yin/yang thang? A balance to feeling too giddy? Is it my advancing years? Is it a sudden interest in Buddhism (well, definitely not the last one).

I dunno, I saw him on TV a while back, in a concert from last year and I found the experience exhilarating. The arrangements were sorta peppy. I think it's the bass lines. They lift the songs in a way that the accompaniment in similar balladeers like Tom Waits just doesn't.
Most of his lyrics are pretty dark, but not depressing.



For a "cult" musician, Cohen has been in pop culture continuously. His two songs (Waiting For The Miracle and The Future)that were featured in (and framed) Natural Born Killers were especially relevant in that tale two psychotic lovebirds.


And as he ages (I think he's 70), does anyone rock the fedora and dark suit better?


So, here's to ya, Lenny! Long may you warble!

This was actually the first time I ever heard of Leonard Cohen:

Maybe there's a God above
And all I ever learned from love
Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you
It's not a cry you can hear at night
It's not somebody who's seen the light
it's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

Who Am I?

I am about to commence activities on another project. This is for an entertainment website which is starting up in May. I will be the NY music dude (dude? what is this 1970?). No pay, but this is (supposedly) a somewhat high profile gig (or so the rose colored glasses they made me wear make it seem).

My dilemma is this: I have to be somewhat "nice" on this new site. As it is targeted to be a money making proposition, with actual funding and an "llc" in it's moniker, I cannot be the snarky, hostile, nasty little monkey I am on this here personal site. I can be a bit mean, but the site is trying to get advertising, etc.

Hey, I don't mind writing that way. After all, I have this creative outlet to spew my venom, no need to distribute the wealth. And if I can get some free shwag and get into some shows (and get Princess Nomad into some stuff as well), then whutdafuk.

Of course, if you've been playing at home, you should have figgered out long ago that Nazz Nomad is not the name on my income tax returns. It's a cyber-name. Yeah, I know. No shit, Sherlock.

But I can't really use Nazz Nomad, since it's linked with this site. I have my rock n roll name, which is not used here (I actually first starting using it 20 years ago, when I was in the porn industry). Ironically, many of my friends know me by that name and use it as my nickname for the most part. I certainly am not going to use my real name, since my actual birth given name is as pure as the driven snow as far as the 'net.

So, I guess I will use my rock n roll name.

You folks, just keep calling me Nazz. And step away from my beer.

Jim Marshall r.i.p.

Jim Marshall passed away this week. Marshall was the greatest music photographer ever. If one picture is worth a thousand words, than Marshall was James Joyce multiplied by infinity. Here is some of his work. I am sure you know many of his iconic photos and perhaps weren't even aware that he was the master behind the lens.

Somewhere in the fields of Pennsylvania

So, here I am, stuck in what this Noo Yawker considers to be america's heartland after my first day of training for my new job.

The first part of the day was spent driving thru the twin demons of hellacious traffic and a bibilical rainstorm. As if my knees weren't rattling enough.

Then I get to the plant, and spend the next 5 hours absorbing as much info into my empty vessel of a mind as i can, whilst attempting to convince my new allies that I am not just another asshole salesperson and that I promise not to make their lives more difficult. I am a very process oriented person, so i can follow rules real well when I want to.

Many trusted in my soft spoken self derision, but the hardened vets just sneered.

At least the hotel has a small gym, and I was able to do four miles at a decent pace on the treadmill. And then, my body reminded me that I hadn't eaten anything all day and proceded to crash out on me in the most heinous emotional, physical and spritual way. I actually started to freak out and fall apart.

I'll never learn to treat my body with the respect it deserves, either I am intoxicating it or starving it. I made it to a local chain restaurant for a salad and a grilled chicken sandwich (only sinning by ordering it with bacon).

So I feel better.

I am pretty confident that I can grasp all of the different offerings we (hey, I said we!) have. I still have to figure out the selling part... which is new to me. But, it's all about selling yourself, isn't it? And I have a very self effacing, laid back, truthful and honest manner about me. Of course that disappears when imma drinkin'. So, i'll have to watch that!

It isn't the hardest job, the hardest job is finding one!




Pray for me!

ps- If you haven't seen it, Paul Westerberg wrote an obit for Alex Chilton that appeared in the NY Times yesterday. Here's the link.

Children By The Millions...

Alex Chilton died. For success or failure, he did it his way. Farewell to a true genius.











If he was from Venus, would he feed us with a spoon?
If he was from Mars, wouldn't that be cool?
Standing right on campus, would he stamp us in a file?
Hangin' down in Memphis all the while.

Children by the million sing for Alex Chilton when he comes 'round
They sing "I'm in love. What's that song?
I'm in love with that song."

Cerebral rape and pillage in a village of his choice.
Invisible man who can sing in a visible voice.
Feeling like a hundred bucks, exchanging good lucks face to face.
Checkin' his stash by the trash at St. Mark's place.

I never travel far, without a little Big Star

Runnin' 'round the house, Mickey Mouse and the Tarot cards.
Falling asleep with a flop pop video on.
If he was from Venus, would he meet us on the moon?
If he died in Memphis, then that'd be cool, babe.

... The Replacements "Alex Chilton"

Halleluah (maybe)

It appears that I MAY have a job. I have an offer. The positives are: IT'S A JOB! Multiply that by one trillion. And than, another trillion. Qualified bugger that I am, I have had no success in landing interviews. Other positives are that it is a company that actually has the wherewithall to be investing in the future. I know the people at the company. And it could be a very exciting new career. And this company will be very easy for me to invest my heart and soul and mind into... which is very important to me. They are very big on "green" initiatives and management are not a bunch of cold soulless demons.

Did I mention IT'S A JOB?

The negatives: I have never done this type of work and it is sales. The money for the first 6 months is going to suck. For 2010, my salary will be anywhere from 70 to 75% potentially of 2009. Of course, if I succeed (and I WILL succeed if the economy doesn't kill me), I can do pretty darn well higher than last year. But in terms of $$$$$, I tend to look at worst case scenario and scope it from there.

But that's a whole lot better than 0%!!!!!!!!

It's just that old foolish pride getting in the way.

Did I mention IT'S A JOB?

Korporate Amerikkka Rox

Still un-em-ployed but there may be some hope within the month. Tonight was interesting- i learned alot, accepted criticism (or is that positive criticism?) provoked a fight, became a peacekeeper from the fight, drank a fuckload of milk off of someone's company teat and had to endure the same roberta flack song twice during a karaoke encounter. AND SOMEHOW ENDED UP PERFORMING A WEEZER SONG. it's almost 5 am local time and i just got home. and it cost me 60 bucks for a cab. gawd, i miss this.

Covers? Covers!

As a trainspotting effort of sorts (or something), Brother Ib of the esteemed Sibling Shot On The Bleachers and yers truly conspired to throw out some cover versions of toonage that are superior to the originals. Being the anti-dogmatic reprobates that genetics deemed, he threw out one and I am trowing out far less than the ten we targeted.

More importantly: WHAT ARE YOURS???????

Do You Wanna Dance - Ramones -- Bobby Freeman:
The Ramones only wanted to be a top 40 band. Was that so much to ask for? You can tell the Joey songs pretty easily from the Dee Dee songs. The Joey songs were about love. And Joey picked the covers. This one blew the roof off of the original early 60's hit.



Police And Thieves - The Clash -- Junior Murvin:
White reggae at it's finest. Though Strummer would reference the original and tell people to go out and listen to it.





My Way - Sid Vicious -- Paul Frank Sinatra: Covered more famously by Frank Sinatra perhaps, but Sid's version is the standard. "To think, I killed a cat" Genius. Plus Scorcese used Sid's version at the end of Goodfellas!




12XU - Minor Threat -- Wire: Sure, Wire's version is an old school classic, but for sheer energy and THE RAWK, you can't beat Minor Threat.

Punk Rock Your My Big Crybaby

Got this one from my brudder The Warden's site. You should check it out.

I didn't know of this Allen Ginsberg poem , and I am pretty good on most of the big names from The Beat Generation. Punk Rock You Big Crybaby is pretty cool. I had the pleasure of seeing Ginsberg read back in the early 80's (and had a really cool autographed sign from the event that has since disappeared from the Nomad Archives).

Ginsberg certainly had his punk creds. The dude was punk before rock n roll even shot out of Chuck Berry's loins. College irritant, Jail time, constant irritant to more than one President, recording with The Clash.

”Moloch! Solitude! Filth! Ugliness!”

If Howl is not the greatest poem of the 20th century, it's certainly on the short list. The trial that resulted due to Obscenity Charges, incurred because of the poem's religious and sexual nature, made Ginsberg possibly the first counter-culture star.

If you click HERE, you will be sent to a site that has The Life & Times Of Allen Ginsberg.