Holla-day jamz

Once again, it has been far too long since a little love has been given to this here blog. Well, with the Christmas season all upons, we’ve been rather active ’round these parts.

Here, for your consideration, we present a few get-down-on-it seasonally flavored numbers constructed in the Rockey home. You can click on any of the images below to be magically transported to a cornucopia of home-crafted vibes.

Dig

An aural supplement, episode 12

Running Time: 55:27 | File Size 64 MB
Download: .mp3
To subscribe to this podcast: http://feeds.feedburner.com/ARockeyHomeCompanion

Hector Laveta gets the Led out as he rambles through another hour of tasty cuts culled from our musical archives. By golly, if this ain’t the best way to begin an indulgent holiday weekend than what the heck? Savor the flavor.

1. Led Zeppelin “Ramble On”
2. Derek Webb “Jena & Jimmy”
3. Paul McCartney & Wings “Mrs. Vandebilt”
4. Nilsson “Gotta Get Up”
5. Fistful of Mercy “Father’s Son”
6. Bob Dylan “One More Night”
7. Bob Dylan “Country Pie”
8. Uncle Tupelo “Chickamauga”
9. Cat Power “Paths of Victory”
10. Great Lake Swimmers “Still”
11. The Tallest Man on Earth “Little River”
12. John Lennon “Hold On”
13. Spoon “Peace Like a River (Live)”
14. Jars of Clay “Mirrors & Smoke”
15. Arcade Fire “Deep Blue”
16. The New Pornographers “Hey, Snow White”

Arte Classe

"Happy Tiger Eat Your Friendly Face" by Papa Joel & Baby Jane (ink and coloured wax on ruled paper)

"Ugly Bird Making Babies" by Papa Joel & Baby Jane (ink and coloured wax on ruled paper)

Unfinished biz and our favorite muppet

It’s been far too long, but not for lack of wanting. Only for lack of trying. Sometimes trying is hard. Anyhow, we’ve been busy with making things, singing songs, and tending to little ones. Speaking of the little one, i had the greatest of intentions to type words about our family’s Muppet-induced fascination with one Mr. Mac Davis. It began with the purchase of a dvd from Half Price which featured three episodes of The Muppet Show. As is the trend, Baby Jane decided that this was the only thing she cared to watch for a good month or so. Consequently, our 2-year-old daughter is now familiar with Mac Davis. Quite honestly, i’ve become much more familiar with Mr. Davis myself going so far as to purchase his album “Baby, Don’t Get Hooked on Me” for two quarters from the clearance vinyl during a return visit to Half Price. However, the crown jewel of this only-slightly-ironic Mac Davis obsession was a conversation Baby Jane and i had whilst on our way to enjoy a tasty hibachi meal. It was a conversation concerning our favorite Muppets and it went something like this:

Yours truly: “Who’s your favorite Muppet?”

Baby Jane: “Kermit the Frog. And Daddy’s favorite is Fozzie Bear.”

Yours truly: “Who’s Mommy’s favorite?”

Baby Jane: “Ummmmm… Mmmmm…”

Yours truly: “Who’s Mommy’s favorite Muppet?”

Baby Jane: “Ummm… MAC DAVIS!”

So there you go. To be fair, our only real context for who Mac Davis is involves his relationship with the Muppets. Anyways, how many 2-year-olds know the man’s name. I should think he would consider it an honour. By the way, check out those eyes. No wonder Mama Jane finds him “dreamy”.

Speaking of dreamy, them Jane Gals and myself ventured to the backwoods of Noblesville at the onset of November for a private show amongst the trees.

Here’s a shot by my pal Lyndsay…

Here are some highlights: Forgot the power chord for my PA, sang half a Blind Melon song with a drunk girl, Played for two hours without a break, Watched Baby Jane boogie, Free chili, Stared at this dude directly across from me the entire time…

A few more public appearances are coming up before 2010 retires, including this one here…

See ya real soon.

I certainly admire people who do things

Sometimes, learning the system and playing along reaps delightful benefits. We’re kind of nominal fans of surfing Goodwill stores for so-so deals, screen-printable apparel, and the occasional LP score (swordfishtrombones? yes please). However, Goodwill’s pricing is often very questionable. Case in point, an in-the-box coffee maker with a $24.98 sticker being resold for $25. I get it. They are a business, but i’ll have to pass. But what to do when your microwave finally kicks the proverbial bucket? (is that an allusion to one hanging themself? that would be rather grim… i’ll do some research on that and probably NOT get back with you) Yes folks, microwave ovens apparently do indeed have a lifespan and that lifespan is apparently fourteen years. This particular ‘wave traces back through ten years of marriage and four years of college to Mama Jane’s high school graduation when she received it as a gift from family friends and employers. Good times. Au revoir, olde friend.

Now let’s not get into a debate about whether or not a microwave oven is a necessity. We’ve already been through that and you know who’s going to win this one. Game, set, match. So, when you decide that you simply cannot live responsibly on this planet without a microwave oven, where do you go to acquire one… legally?

Retail? Come on. What would Mister Ramsey say about that?

Ask a friend? And become a charity case? (just kidding)

Craigslist? Good luck.

Goodwill? Perhaps. There are only a baker’s dozen in a five mile vicinity. Besides, while we’re there, maybe we can find a copy of John Wesley Harding only to be disappointed upon finding the vinyl riddled with scratches and marks. Alright, by golly, i’m in!

Well, after visiting four or five stores, we essentially found two microwaves. The first was the size of a television with a dial resembling a television dial and might have even had an antennae coming out of the back. No, i promise you, it was in fact a microwave not a television. It was also probably closing in on forty years and they wanted $25 for it. I thought the thing would have been amazing, but upon further consideration we figured it would probably use more energy heating a bowl of oatmeal than our electric oven would use heating our home. The second microwave was still in the box with a ding in the side, but priced at $48. Now, here’s where playing the game comes into play. You see, in the greater indianapolis area, Goodwill stores adhere to a weekly color code. In other words, every item in the store is assigned one of five(?) colors. Each week, starting on sunday, everything bearing a tag with the determined color sells for 50% of the sale price. Whether my explanation of any of this makes sense is of little consequence. What matters is that if we came back to the store three days later (sunday) and the color for that week matched that of the tag on the microwave oven box then it could be ours for a mere $24!

Now to bring this story to a screeching halt of a conclusion. Sunday morning, we are parked outside Goodwill waiting for the doors to open. Why yes, that was us who you were pointing out to the kids. Twenty minutes we waited while Baby Jane sobbed and sobbed, but you better believe Mama Jane was the first one through the gate when it opened. She made her way back to the far corner of the store where our little Sunbeam was waiting patiently for us to claim him as our own.

Also wearing a red tag: the rad chord organ pictured above. Also take a look at that shoe in the same photo. Baby Jane told me just this morning that my shoes were “broken” and that i needed to “throw them in the trash”. From the mouths of babes.

The moral of the story is this: Never pay retail for an appliance because there might be a chord organ in it for you.

Now enjoy this depiction of a papa lion nursing two abandoned gosling back to health.

Thank you, Fort Wayne Zoo, for your inspired interpretations of the circle of life using the under-appreciated medium of pumpkins.

Autumn was here or God’s jovial laugh

Me and them Jane gals were all giddy with excitement to visit the apple orchard in hopes of handpicking some crispity, crunchety goodness last weekend. So as soon as Mama Jane returned home from a long day at the learnatorium, we scooted ourselves on down to the Anderson orchard to do just that. During the car ride, the three of us exchanged thoughts on our favorite apples and took bets on who we thought would collect the most apples from the orchard trees. “I can taste those sweet, sweet Jonagolds even now,” I cried. We even sang songs about apples with the car windows rolled down for the whole world to hear. We simply could not hide our unabashed zeal for apples. Then just as we were finishing a dramatic retelling of the legend of Johnny Appleseed, we found ourselves pulling into the long gravel driveway that led to the heart of the orchard.

“Weeee’re heeeeere!” we shouted with elation. But as we surveyed the acres and acres of orchard in sheer wonder, we couldn’t help but notice that beneath their shroud of leaves, the branches of the trees appeared somewhat barren. Perhaps it was only our perspective. After all, we were a fair distance from the trees at this juncture. And yet, no other visitors to the orchard seemed to be amongst the trees picking apples of their own. Curious. Nevertheless, we exited the car and made our way to the concession stand to claim our apple picking passes.

“May I help you?” asked the kindly woman behind the counter.

“Please,” I replied, “could you tell me how my ladies and I would go about picking our own apples from your lush, majestic orchard?”

“Oh, I’m afraid our trees have already been picked clean for the season,” she answered. “We had an early growing season this year. Unfortunately, it’s not up to us. Mother Nature is in charge.”

Well, I wouldn’t hear of it. I immediately demanded to speak to this presumed matriarch of the family. I wanted answers, but my demands were merely met by puzzled stares and the chirping of crickets. I guess this Ms. Nature was busy and couldn’t be bothered with my invasive questioning. The Jane gals assured me that our journey to the orchard would not be wasted, and that we should just take a walk through the orchard enjoying our time among the trees together. I reluctantly relinquished my hostility toward the orchard personnel and their mother with the hope of bringing peaceful resolution to the situation. We walked away, enjoyed the orchard, collected dried corn remnants from the outskirts of the magnificent corn maze, selected a peck of fujis and a gallon of cider, and mangled our gums on a decadent caramel apple.

Did the afternoon turn out exactly as we had planned? Of course not, but the Jane gals and myself had embarked on this adventure together and at the end of the day we had apples, a tiny pumpkin, and a possibly-stolen corn cob. But most importantly, we had one another. And isn’t that what’s important. I guess that’s why we always have to keep our plans loosey goosey and expect the unexpected. After all, “you want to make God laugh? Make a plan. Or read him a Dave Berry book.”

Thank you, Tracy Jordan…

Thank you.

Alright, go for it, daddy

Getting right down to it is the name of the game around these parts nowadays. We are presently smack dab in the middle of week two of Daddy Is The New Mommy Experiment, Part 2: The Electric Boogaloo. In other words, Mama Jane has taken an opportunity to work with some kids this school year allowing Yours Truly to spend each and every morning bonding with Baby Jane over cow milk and wonder pets. These are the days. This very morning, I asked Baby Jane if she'd like to go downstairs and have Daddy make some waffles for breakfast. Her response: "ALRIGHT! Go for it, Daddy." L-to the-O-L. For srsly, I almost fell on the floor. The kid's got more personality than I know what to do with. Thus far, we generally spend our days screen-printing, colouring, watching movies, drinking coffee, completing puzzles, shopping Goodwill, listening to 45's, reading books, and fighting sleep.

Nap time would be so much easier if only we had one of these at the house...

Ahhh, the magic of the people mover.

As previously mentioned, The Mustard Room has been in full swing. A few custom print jobs are formulating, but in the meantime we've been doing some short runs of sharks, dudes, and lions. We're also getting situated to begin some brand new recordings. The thing is, it's all about space...

Inspiration station

Magic keys

Battle axes

Shake and bake

Trapper keeper

Observation deck

Now, let's see if we can't do this again sooner than later.

Katz n dudez

Act your shoe size, not your age

Check out our illustrated t-shirt featured in this treasury curated by Jocelyn of Flowerleaf Handmade Jewelry at Etsy.com.

Breaking it down for papaw

We skype with mad flow.

Cyber 45 #3

The next in a long line of forthcoming double dippers from the joel rockey archives which were recently remined and remixed in The Mustard Room. Dig these delectables at our bandcamp page by clicking right here.

Horizons lost and forthcoming

This past week's end, Mama Jane and your's truly celebrated ten years of wedded adventures together in the mighty fort of wayne. We spent an evening together as a prelude to the next three days of wedding frenzy and debriefing. If you're wondering whether or not i'm referring to baby brother Nick's marriage to Allison, you're right. I am. Check out the previous shot of some family shenanigans during a partial family photo op. Baby Jane looks on in bemusement.

Then, check out this goofy shot in which Mama Jane looks gorgeous while your's truly looks downward at Baby Jane who appears to be dazzled by off-camera bubbles...

She's quite delighted to pose next to her sweet ride...

Mama Jane: "I have a few questions about that sign..."

"Are they hiring dancers on Sunday and Monday, for Sunday and Monday, or is Sunday and Monday the ten dollar couch dance?"

After a few laughs and some further consideration...

Mama Jane: "Ten dollars for a couch dance seems pretty reasonable."

This woman has made me laugh for over ten years.

p.s. Has anyone told you how amazing the new Arcade Fire album is? Allow me.

Our contribution to shark week, and the captain of your heart

So, shark week is coming to a close and we didn’t want to miss the golden opportunity to contribute to the cause. Therefore, we at The Mustard Room submit this counterpoint to the bear’s convincing argument in the ongoing campaign of shark vs. bear. He’s quite the dapper gentleman. Be on the lookout for apparel sporting the likeness of this mustachioed fish of fury. To be honest, I was not aware that shark week was such a big deal. I have to side with my business partner/nemesis, hector on this one…

"Apparently, shark week is now globally recognized as a season of awareness and recognition of the many contributions of man's best fiend, the shark. Let's all raise a PBR to those cold-blooded toothy harbingers of doom! My, what a smooth, robust likeness of a fine Pilsner." -Hector Laveta, via Facebook

A fine pilsner, indeed, sir.

Now on to more pressing matters, namely that napkin on the left-hand side of my notebook dripping with the affections of a mob of young ladies. That's right, merely hours after our last post describing the self-inflicted loss of my beard, i was accosted by a group of teenage, at my place of employment no less, who handed me the following.

How a thirty-four-year-old dude like myself could be handed a note beginning with the words "Kid with the Hat" is beyond me. I especially like that they apparently had a discussion in which they all came to an agreement that i was a "dreamboat" before further deliberating on whether or not to disclose this information to me. Toward the end of the note things just get weird and ambiguous and all kinds of awkward. Regardless, i tipped my hat and thanked them for their kindness as they exited. Fortunately, i had my fellow Strange Brew associates there to help me laugh through this emotionally confusing encounter. My sincerest gratitude goes out once again to Ms. Chamberlain for keeping my ego in check during the remainder of the evening.

After sharing this story with Mama Jane, we laughed about how i should have asked these young ladies if they were interested in babysitting my two-year-old daughter while my wife and i went out to celebrate ten years of marriage. Ah, if should'ves and would'ves were nickels and dimes...

Perhaps now would be an appropriate opportunity to check in on the resurrection of the facial follicle force-field.

Hmm... Not much to report, but minimal progress is progress none the less. Remember, the fragile emotions of young ladies everywhere are at stake here.

Everything old is a new kind of old again

Excitement continues to build in regards to the grand hootenanny which will definitely be in full swing come the twentieth of august. We're hoping that the acreage featured in the preceding photograph will be blanketed in a diverse cross-section of america. As you will notice, our host barn sits among the stars as the moon glows majestically upon her. Expect to be nothing less than cosmically spellbound.

So, after much deliberation, the first round of painting the long-detested kitchen cabinets has been initiated. Everything old is a new kind of old again. As highlighted above, the orange faux wood finish is being exchanged for a generous crispy-clean, reflective, and all-around aesthetically superior high-gloss makeover. More on that in future times.

Also opting for a crispy-clean, reflective, high-gloss makeover...

During a possibly narcotic-induced haircut, yours truly grabbed the electric sheers from the unsuspecting barberess and maniacally watched my face fall to the floor. I warned the astonished onlookers (most notably Mama Jane and Grandma) not to get too used to the new old look. I feel totally nude and, as pointed out by my coworker Ms. Chamberlain, the ladies are taking note. I have to regrow this force-field of sexually-repellent hair quickly, lest i strike smitten one too many naive ladies.

No sleep for the sopping wet

When not sweating and sipping hot coffee whilst singing the body electric, we at A Rockey Home Companion are working hard to bring you occasional blog posts with moderately interesting content. For reals though, the dog days of summer have been kind to us by providing grab bags of opportunity for creating and being created. Our magical sanctum, The Mustard Room, has lent her walls to the cradling of some sonic playscaping as of late. Firstly, we have added #3 to the cyber 45 collection which can now be enjoyed and downloaded here. Secondly, as depicted in the above candid photo, my fellow gentlemen broncos and myself have been rendezvousing for some face-melting hi-jinks of antarctic proportions. Don't let me build it up too much, but kingdoms shall fall. Speaking of which, after months of sitting on the idea, this is happening.

All of these things and more. Then, a housefly went nuts and kept trying to land on our faces all night long. Now for a message to that housefly: Dear housefly, if you were once a friend or colleague and you were trying to get our attention so that we might help find a remedy to your altered state, then i'm sorry i beat the crap out of you and flushed you down the toilet. Seriously though, dude, there are better ways than keeping us from enjoying our sleep and forcing us to camp out on sofas. However, we shall never forget you and your legacy will live on and on...

Now, as the sun sets on another blog posting, the prophetic words once uttered by Criswell resonate in our collective consciousness: "Let us punish the guilty. Let us reward the innocent. My friend, can your heart stand the shocking facts of grave robbers from outer space?"

Future endeavors and goings-on

Gangstas and gangstresses, we've been up to good and no good as of late. A whole lot of this and that. I can't say much for the other, but nonetheless. More printing, more frosting, more songing, and more muppets are all upons. In fact, there was a recent get-down-and-boogie-fest with the incorrigible Elegant Bachelors (seen here). Times were had. They were good. Now, not to be outdone by ourselves, the hootenanny to end all hootenannies is being realized in ways both epic and awesome...

Yes.

As for the rest of the happenings and goings-on, why, i'll just let Baby Jane give you the run-down...

Hot frosting

I totally suck at bloggering. However, you have to admit that when i bring it, it's absolutely worth the wait. After all, photos of Baby Jane and cake are pretty much enough to get the most cheerless chap through another drab day. "Why the cake?" you may ask. Well, somebody had a birthday recently and it may or may not have been yours truly. Here's how the special day went down: slinging coffee with the brew ladies, japanese cuisine and iced cream with the family, ridiculous sinus headache and earache while watching mst3k, pepperoni pizza and ed wood's glen or glenda. All in all, pretty much rad. The next morning, i worked eight and a half hours at the brew and came home with this...

I worked for three and a half years at the sbux and never once had a watermelon cake bestowed upon me for my birthday by my boss. Suck on it, sbux. When i arrived home i was greeted with kisses and the following...

I'm not real sure why it took us nearly seven years to ice that fireplace, but i'm diggin' the crap out of it. I gotta say, i'm pretty much inspired to attack the kitchen cabinets next. At the moment, Mama Jane doesn't seem to share my enthusiasm for such an endeavor. Stay tuned to see how this one pans out. And now, let us commemorate the fireplace as she used to be with a strange photo featuring a ghostly Baby Jane...

Later on, we went nuts at half-price books and threw down three coupons and some cash for some eels, muppets, and richard scarry. The best part is that Baby Jane is now singing 'the rainbow connection'. I'll just let you imagine how sick with cute that happens to be.

In closing, apparently there is a show on a&e about midgets and pitbulls.

It may or may not be called 'the pit boss'. Mama Jane says, 'clever, huh?'

Later dudes.

Look at all these songs

Well, by-freaking-golly, the time has come for another dose of audibles from the ARHC library. As mentioned in previous postings, we've been busting out some "dope tees" for peeps near and not quite as near. During the pseudo-monotonous procedure of printing dozens of t-shirts, we are never without more than a few generous portions of tasty vibes. The following collection is a selection of tracks taken from hot afternoons in the garage, slow rides home, and late night documentary viewing. So what are you waiting for? Stare deep into the sonic face of these delicious ditties. Dig.

Download: Look At All These Songs - A Rockey Home Companion Mixtape (zipped folder 81MB)

Side A:

1. Turd on the run - The Rolling Stones
2. High in the morning - Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers
3. Goodbye girl - Squeeze
4. The india song - Big Star
5. Older - Band of Horses
6. Red-eyed and blue - Wilco
7. Speed of life - David Bowie
8. Sinister kid - The Black Keys
9. Everybody's hurting - Jakob Dylan
10. Complicated life - The Kinks

Side B:

1. Arkansas - Damien Jurado
2. Mathilde - Scott Walker
3. Forever for her (is over for me) - The White Stripes
4. Come on - Lucinda Williams
5. Love me like you - The Magic Numbers
6. Lousy weekend - Daniel Johnston
7. Black sand - Jenny Lewis
8. I won't ask again - Bonnie "Prince" Billy
9. Motion pictures (for carrie) - Neil Young
10. Goodnight rose - Ryan Adams

Computers are magic

What you are looking at is an optical illusion conjured by the sleight-of-hand dealings of computer wizardry. For you see, the storm door which appears to be black in this photo is not black at all. However, using the magic of computers, we at A Rockey Home Companion were able to manipulate the photo in order to imagine the storm door in a different colour as we considered replacing our current one. Well folks, we were convinced.

Ala peanut butter sandwiches...

So after only several months of procrastination, the front entryway is practically, officially complete. And there was much rejoicing. The Mustard Room was quite productive during the late weeks of june / early weeks of july. We've been burning screens, mixing ink, and swiping squeegees across t-shirts like nobody's beeswax. Thanks again to all of our friends and clients who have kept us busy as of late. You are the rocks in our stars. Also, we'd be remiss if we didn't thank the goode folks at albanese confectionery for keeping the fire burning with their savory sour gummi worms. Cheers! By the way gang, if you're ever interested in hanging out with us during the printing process, you will most likely be treated to iced coffee, selected tunes by the kinks, bowie, and neil young, and most notably this getup...

The preceding image seemed to merit some soft-focus.

This is how you will find us rolling.

Now, let us enjoy a playful child hunting for fireflies in a thunderstorm...

The Mustard Room Recordings presents...

Cyber 45 #2

In the grande olde tradition of the double-sided 45 rpm record, The Mustard Room has been making available unreleased songs from the Joel Rockey songbook via digital download. The second installment in the series features two songs recorded in the spring of 2003. New vocal, drum, bass guitar, and percussion tracks were recorded in The Mustard Room in june and early july of 2010. Download both tracks by clicking here for the low low price of free.

Three years

Three years have now passed
Since we said our alohas,
Still we miss you so.

Sloppy, stale, or simply brilliant

I don't remember having the book Goodnight Moon read to me as a child. However, having a little lady around who is closing in on two years has given me ample opportuity to read, listen to, and critique this classic piece of american children's literature. I have to say that during my first read, the page pictured above threw me for quite a loop. I cannot recall, but i would not be at all surprised if my jaw were left hanging just inches above the floor in the same manner as i find it after a typical episode of Breaking Bad... but i digress.

Initially, i had made up my mind that this page was the result of either A.) The author, margaret wise brown's imagination had run dry and she could think of no other things to say goodnight to, or B.) The illustrator, clement hurd had missed a deadline leaving the book a page short forcing brown, in all of her sheer brilliance, to adjust the text accordingly. Either way, this page had to have come into existence by pure chance due to the shortcomings of someone involved in its composition. Never did it occur to me that hidden among the mush and mittens of this beloved poem was a profound statement which had been placed very intentionally for minds both young and olde to ponder. With every subsequent read, i am left increasingly bewildered as this arguably blank page with her bold typeface existential statement aggravate my soul and haunt my subconscious.

As this is the case, i was once again left with this phrase camping out in the back of my mind following another visit to the great green room. Immediately, as any decent hipster living in the twenty first century would do, i tweetered these two merciless words as they burrowed deeper and deeper into the recesses of my cerebral cortex.

@hlaveta: Goodnight nobody.

Soon after, an olde friend named mike made me aware of the fact that in a sixtieth anniversary reprint of the book, a photo of her illustrator was doctored to remove a cigarette from between his fingers.

Here now was my response:

Mr. redelman, i am quite impressed by your historical insights regarding the renowned, if not controversial illustrator, clement hurd. After some treacherous research - aka googling his name - i stumbled upon the photo in question. While harper-collins' efforts at removing the cigarette from mr. hurds fingers may have prevented hundreds upon thousands of children from taking up smoking, they neglected to realize that their alteration of the photo now depicted a man who appears to have just picked his nose and is unsure of what to do with his findings.

We have harper-collins to blame for generations of children who are tragically addicted to picking their noses.

Shame on you, harper-collins.

Shame.

Tonight i'm gonna drink my tears

What does one do at a quarter after one in the morning after watching the theatrical version of blade runner on netflix? Don't you dare ask me a question when we're both very aware of the obvious answer. The person in question - namely me - cues up the scott walker documentary, scott walker: 30 century man, of course.

I've had the film in our netflix instant queue almost since we started using their delightful services almost a year ago. What i knew about scott walker was the song "30 century man" from his third solo album. How i knew the song was from its inclusion in the soundtrack to a film which i admire quite a bit. That film is the life aquatic with steve zissou. Wes anderson seems to have a way of turning me on to incredible artists whom i otherwise have had very little to no history with (i.e. arthur lee & love). Come to find out that scott walker is really scott engel and was one third of the pop trio known far and wide, but mostly in the UK and germany as the walker brothers. It also just so happens that he's a pretty enigmatic avant-garde musician and an incredibly abstract poet who pushes well beyond the conventions of song composition.

"I've become the Orson Welles of the record industry. People want to take me to lunch, but nobody wants to finance the picture...I keep hoping that when I make a record, I'll be asked to make another one. I keep hoping that if I can make a series of three records, then I can progress and do different things each time. But when I have to get it up once every 10 years... it's a tough way to work." -Scott Walker, in an interview for The Independent, April 1995.

All this to say, i am now listening to a fair share of baroque pop.

Also, watch all of the films mentioned in this post.

Also, here's some early solo scott as he digs on jacques brel's "matilde" during a performance on dusty's variety show...

http://www.scottwalkerfilm.com/blog/