We are proud to present to you the world-debut of a new composition by Ben + Vesper’s first-born. Punk-rock like you’ve never heard it before…

Enjoy.

‘MacDonald’
by Dan Zimmerman

‘Moving’
by Dan Zimmerman

by Dan Zimmerman

by Singing Mechanic

Here is some purchasing advice for used-car buyers:

–Don’t buy a car from a body shop. A little makeup can hide a whole lot of blemish. The right shirt can hide an otherwise indisputable set of love-handles. Likewise, hammering out a few dents and giving a car a nice new paint-job can suppress just about any sordid tale of automotive woe . . . for a time.

–Don’t buy a car with new tires . . . brand new tires. Why would anybody put brand new tires on a car they are selling? People put new tires on a car before selling it to disguise tracking problems. If it has front-end or steering problems, the tire wear will show this. Or if the car has been in a severe accident, tire wear can reveal this. So folks with unfixable or too-expensive alignment problems will often opt to cover up the problems by simply buying new tires.

–Don’t buy a car from a guy who lives on a boat. These guys often use their car for storage of items such as fishing gear and bait, old boots/shirts etc. Fish smell — well — it sticks around . . . longer than the little cardboard pine trees that hang from your rear-view mirror.

–Last but not least, never buy a car, especially a van, from a musician. We all know how clueless musicians can be when it comes to automobiles (excepting of course Neil Young, Les Claypool, and the Singing Mechanic*).

Obviously, there are always exceptions to the rules. The best advice is to get an inspection before you purchase. Keep in mind though, your mechanic might love it if you buy a lemon!

* Someone a few years ago got a killer deal on my old Cruise Master (aka: Cruise Bastard). It was a mini motor-home I converted into the ultimate tour van; big enough to stand in, complete with a bathroom and a fridge — but it still fit easily into a normal parking spot!


And now: a limerick (of sorts):

tour from heaven
tour from hell
tour round the country in a van that smells

when two are united
they can’t be divided
and if they can . . . this tour will

In addition to finishing up his upcoming masterpiece ‘Lobe’, Leopulde has begun a series of pieces that will culminate in an album of compositional gestures more exploratory and intimate, and entirely instrumental. The first installment of this collection, ‘A Healthy Cardiovascular System’ is a nocturne for the 21st century; featuring the evocative sonorities of saw, viola, cello, and piano, supported by the pathetique strains of accordion.

Enjoy!

note: We strongly encourage listening to the following in a nice quiet place, where one is free from interruption (phones off!), so as to provide an atmosphere where wandering minds can go about their business!

by Dan Zimmerman

by John Ringhofer (from Half-handed Cloud)

Last Autumn, Daniel Smith invited me to play bass guitar and sing backing vocals for Danielson’s 2006 European tour. He said we’d be doing songs from the recent Ships album and that the usual bassist wouldn’t be able to come, “Could you fill-in?” It didn’t take long for me to answer yes—I’d been a friend of Daniel’s for years, and a fan even longer. As a listener, I pretty-much already knew the backing vocal melodies by heart (a cinch!). The bass parts were more of a challenge, but after practicing at home and about a week of touring, I was starting to get more comfortable with the notes. We did a more rock-sounding version of “Sing to the Singer”, most of the new Ships songs, plus oldies like “Cutest Lil’ Dragon”, “The Lord’s Rest”, and “Idiot Boksen” (really fun). The beginning of the tour had few hang-ups (the worst part involved a couple of our uniforms being stolen in Belgium), and on-stage things were starting to click pretty solidly within the first week.

The stage that wasn’t as fun as I was expecting was in Glasgow, Scotland. I had pretty high hopes because the last time I got to visit there was on the Illinoisemaker tour, and Sufjan and I were able to walk all over the city absorbing most of the major Charles Rennie Mackintosh architecture sites. I had my sights set on Glasgow well before this Danielson tour started.

When we got to the club at the end of November, they fed dinner to us before sound-check (it’s not uncommon for venues to provide meals for the bands that perform there). Everybody else in the band had the regular meal, and I had the vegetarian meal: a type of pasta with some sort of leafy arugula they called “rocket.” After the meal, and following sound-check I had just enough time to trek through the rain for a visit to the record store. By the time I got back though, I had a pretty awful stomach ache. The Danielson guys were all, “Are you sure you want to play, John?” “Yeah, should be fine,” I said.

We went on. The show started well, but about half-way through, after Daniel had already asked the crowd for trumpet-stepping stories, we were playing another song from Ships, and… I started to black-out on stage! Within a few moments I was down on one knee. Daniel initially thought, “John’s really getting into the song, like a real rocker!” David thought, “Looks like he dropped his pick.” Chris wondered if I was having a spiritual experience on the floor. All were wrong, though—I was sick, very sick. Was it food poisoning? Daniel looked over towards my side of the stage at the end of the song, and could tell what was really going on: I had to leave and get some fresh air for a couple songs (it was pretty dramatic). The Scottish people were incredibly gracious though, chanting my name from the audience. The next day, after a whole night of violent sickness, Daniel joked that if I blacked-out on stage again, we could turn the drop-to-one-knee-experience into a routine, kind of like James Brown and his shiny cape. Oh Brother!