Sunday, October 15, 2006

In Touch With The Mystery

The Muse that never ages was born in my soul in 1972 when I stepped off a greyhound bus in Nashville Tennessee with kitbag & guitar in hand hoping to find Kris Kristofferson & Music Row. 15 years later, I was signed as a writer to Combine Music…Kris’s home on the Row… famous for years among songwriters as The House Of Quill Repute.

Events which led me to that profound experience in my life and songwriting career did not occur merely by chance. Becoming a professional songwriter was written in my soul from the beginning as the countless hours and long years of struggle to perfect my craft now prove testimony to my toil. Gifts which are neither cheap nor free to abuse without consequence haunt my life daily in the absense of a real culture within which to enhance them. The sad state of our cultural reality today does not negate however the powerful pulsing of love in the vein so there is no time to waste in the headlong thrust towards destiny. So mark these words, that destiny is being fulfilled at every level and at every conceivable point a person can imagine.

It’s midnight in Nashville…empty streets…all night bus terminal festering with the tension and the baggage. What’s that sound?

It’s my heart beating. Broken, but still in touch with the mystery…

Gallery Focus: Frank Trainor Music is more than a songwriter's vision or craft material of an artist's repertoire. For me it is and always will be a way of life…click on the link to read A Way of Life

Monday, October 09, 2006

Little Steven's Underground Garage

Welcome Freaks, Misfits and Outcasts...
To the subjective dysfunctional family of Garage

The Journey...come along if you dare...

Take a ride to the land inside of your mind with host Little Steven, Ted Nugent and the mystery girl to rediscover your soul baby...

Then check this out Episode 235: Howl '06

Note: Scroll to last week's archived program [Episode 235 Howl '06] click Jukebox button ...hear the program opening stuff then listen to the opening song Down On The Boulevard jazz sax wails and Little Steven airs the following profound and loquacious soliloquy.

October 7th is a high holy day on the calendar of cool for it is on that date1955 in a small art gallery and former auto repair shop near the intersection of Union and Fillmore in San Francisco called the Sixth Gallery that Alan Ginsberg introduced a poem called Howl to 150 freaks, misfits and outcasts high on the burgundy sip from the three jugs that Jack Kerouac passed the hat to pay for. Now you might ask, in this world of all art being measured by opening weekend box office and all success measured by the quarterly corporate bottom line, who cares about a poem and what the hell is poetry anyway?

There’s no money in it.

Unless somebody creates a reality TV show around it, it ain’t gonna make it to the water cooler my friend …or Page 6 or Entertainment Tonight. But that is a world you and I refuse to live in because we know better. We know something that mainstream culture has long forgotten. Corporate America survives by suppressing & Wall Street has never known the most important things in life can’t be explained in high ratings, revealed in a profit and loss statement or discovered in marketing research. Great art illuminates life by its mystery and that is why business men despise the creative people they depend on, underpay, exploit and ultimately destroy.

Because creators are in touch with the mystery and because of that connection creators create amazing and beautiful and life affirming and potentially very profitable things out of thin air…blank canvass… empty pages…the very common mundane numbers, letters, pictures & sounds all around us that mean nothing until put into a form that communicates. And ultimately all art communicates one single message and that is eternity. And that is real power and the bosses that control this planet are jealous of it. They know they are frauds.

They know that the only reason that they have a job is because the genius that hired them was a fraud just like them. They will never have real power because they create nothing. They will never be secure because they have no real identity & they’ll keep the working people of this planet tortured, frustrated…too tired to think and mired in the quicksand of spiritual bankruptcy forever.

There is no revolution that will ever overthrow them. The only true revolution is to learn to live without them…among them …but not with them. It is a revolution that takes place within first…then in the embrace of likeminded angel headed hipsters …and finally, in the understanding and acceptance of the transcendent redemptive positive energy of love…and Howl explains all that.

Highway 61 Revisited follows immediately afterward...all of which is just way too cool for the mainstream pulse baby...beyond the seas of thought...beyond the realm of what and definitely not about the's about the journey baby...come along if you care.

Talking Points: It appears I'm not alone in my critique of Bob Dylan's latest Modern Times. Here's some of what Amazon music reviewer Lance G. Rigley of Brisbane, Queensland Australia says in his recent review entitled Am I Missing Something Here - Why Bother Bob?
"...The most disappointing, mediocre and lifeless set of songs from one of the most influential and truly great singer/songwriters of all time. Technically competent and about as potent as a glass of water. You cannot say that the Murph and The MagicTones sound of his touring band is understated, it is underdone. Why bother...?"

Spotlight: Little Steven aka Silvio Dante
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