Top 8, you say?

With all these blogs e'rywhere putting out they're "top" whatever  lists of the same boring music, here's Brady W.Hunt's list. It might seem like a lot, but it's not/well worth it. Enjoy...

"so many people have said that the essence of rock and roll is danger.  danger is rock and roll and vice versa.  if that is the case, then where is the rock in roll in 2011?   i don't think i am the only one who doesn't believe the big, focal indie bands nowadays pose any real threat to anyone.  sure, they put out some good music, but so does Nickleback, if you're a Nickleback fan.

even though Austin is hopelessly insane, with all the music in that town, it still functions.  it is a town built around weirdness and individuality and with all the chaos and originality there, the town stands.  kids flock to Austin these days for different reasons than they flocked to Austin ten years ago.  Austin has become an industry, a cool one, but today rebellion in Austin is expected, it's almost passé.

I used the example of Austin only to point out one aspect of the big picture, one that perhaps carries the most clout lately.  the pendulum swings back and forth, and all people and tastes are different, and what may be cutting edge for one town’s scene may be embarrassingly outdated to another.  i don't think the urge in a listener's head to be fucked with or taken for a ride is forever going to be satisfied with heavy metal music or skulls tattoos. i think what is scary and dangerous is what you aren't expecting, or what you never saw coming.  not the brute force bear that you run into head on and have to fight, but the schizo vulture that lands on your head and tries to peck your fucking eyes out.  you're never safe from that fucker even with an elephant gun.  but whatever.

since i don't listen to too much new music these days, this is just representative of what i've delved into over the past year and took to.  I’m just looking for things that strike me as beautiful and also hopefully surprise me or creep me out. 

the only rule in this list is that i am not considering Oklahoma bands.  I don’t want to dishonor their great releases by trying to pretend I am objective about their place in the grand scheme.  I am not a therapist, I’ve got enough biases to discredit my input, and I wholeheartedly support DEERPEOPLE, Lizard Police, Guardant, The Boom Bang, and BRONCHO.  All of them released fantastic, game-changing shit this year, and I am very proud and excited to be a part of this latest growing surge of music.  So here’s to OK.

this is what i like from the rest of the picture.  this is what is good in my opinion.  this is what i'd put my money on. i’m not going to defend myself or my choices, I’m just defending the records, because all of these records totally kicked ass and I’m looking forward to growing old with every one of them.

1- Tyler, The Creator - "Goblin" - Mr. Creator is an old soul that sticks everything on the line.  DGAF self-destruction to the extreme.  A concept album that involves a 19 year old skater psycho-analyzing himself over the entire course of two LPs, with all the elements of great literature: setups, foreshadowing, punchlines, climaxes, character development, paradoxes, irony, drama.  In a world where emcees beat their chests to prove they’re the toughest, Tyler’s attack is to puff up his chest and lay out every single demon and insecurity in his soul to the point that anyone who wanted to could rip him apart. but no one is going to, he has too much talent and conviction, and he has much more welling up inside of him.  he shares his self-doubts with a confidence that makes you realize he has already come to terms with every inch of his young adult soul, and he’s now turned his brutally analytical eye on the world at large, looking for blood.  lyrics so goddamn biting they shouldn’t be coming out of a kid.

2- Screeching Weasel - "First World Manifesto" - Ben Weasel is the face of what I believe to be punk rock in 2011.  he is a conservative and unapologetically Catholic, and he is a bigger asshole than ever.  he talks shit on everyone, and he punched a girl.  his bandmates couldn't handle the fire and Ben has since gone on without them.  he has even had to say "farewell and fuck you" to bandmate and old buddy Danny Vapid.  seems like everyone has turned their back on Ben, and fuck them.  Ben is the same as he's been since he was writing for Maximumrocknroll and playing basements.  he never tolerated "punks" who got their cages rattled easy, and he hasn't quit being the voice of reason in a world full of self-righteous hippies and pompous lily-white critics.  his lyrics are more urgent than ever, he is seriously pissed and concerned about what is going on, in a world where the only way to truly offend the jaded little shits of the world is by playing traditional pop-punk and going to Bible study, and saying things because you really mean it.  you may not feel the way i do but i think Ben punching that chick is not that big a fucking deal, considering what punk used to be, or what we have been told it once was.  luckily, the songs are great.  they make you think, and not in a way that crust punks on dope make you think about anarchy and freeganism.  if you listen to his lyrics you're going to see the real counterpoint, the 2011 counterpoint.  it's time to put down our tired, sacred cow causes and ask ourselves what the fuck do we care about if we can't even forgive a punk rocker for hauling off on a mouthy cunt.  Ben Weasel has been one of the most well-spoken figures in music since he began, and if you can't step to his extreme rhetoric, you're just fuel for the fire that isn't about to die out.  *not endorsed by Mr. Weasel

3- Skull Defekts w/ Daniel Higgs - "Peer Amid" - Confrontational, effortless hypnotic ragas with punchy late 80s Sonic Youth timbres and way, way harsh lyrics.  good for newbies to the Occult and angry weirdos in general.  a well-orchestrated and deliberate album start to finish, it shows true appreciation for complexity rather than a perverse adoration of it. the Defekts and Higgs assume authority with their art, they are focused and motivated, there is real conviction in this record that rises above the bullshit “hipster” gimmicks that are so prevalent nowadays.  The Skull Defekts are showing promise and potential, they could be one of the leaves of the next big thing, whateverthefuck that's supposed to mean.  in short, it's evil, scary, well-put together noise rock.  Charlie Manson would dig it.

4- Starfucker - "Reptilians" - synth-pop that warms the soul and stirs the mind.  one of the few albums this year that i've played over and over on repeat and not gotten enough of yet.  lush beauty, effortlessly listenable.

5- Zomes - "Earth Grid" - if a space alien came down and asked me what's going on right now in the world of consciousness i'd play him Zomes and tell him it's the same thing that's been going since the 60s, but lonelier and exponentially more confusing.  poignant loops of hundred dollar sound colors and breathtaking swaths of lush oscillations that serves no purpose whatsoever.  a work of true beauty.

6- The New Blockaders - "Antinomia II" (7" EP) - maybe this is a pretentious inclusion on the list, seeing how it's a super scarce 7" that you have to have ordered from Europe via the label.  who cares.  The New Blockaders were the original gangstas of noise music back in the early 80s and they are still the Picassos.  always fascinating to listen to, never smacks of the gory postmodern motifs of new wave of tape-culture noise, yet manages to hit harder and scarier.  the Blockaders are the Shakespeare of noise, everyone else is just jockeying for the top slot in the maddening crowd outside the palace walls.

7- Horse Meat Disco - "Horse Meat Disco III" - a fantastic mixtape of disco tracks that seamlessly spans two full cds without a single gap. authentic club disco in all its glory, produced with respect for the drama and flamboyance and style of the history of the genre.  a great reinterpretation of the deep cuts and fleeting hits of the 70s and early 80s, with a more than few surprises too from the modern era.  groovy and uplifting, a fantastic trip though an old-school mindset.  deserves a listen. hella fun.

8- Bryan Black Presents Black Asteroid - "The Engine EP" (EP) - Bryan Black is the resurrection of everything I miss about techno.  eccentric without spraying his guts everywhere.  he has a classy sense of restraint, and a spot-on aesthetic.  like everything about him, it's just a millimeter away from generic, but it's a tightly controlled millimeter.  whether you see it or you don't see it, it's hiding right under your nose."

For more of this crazy s.o.b.s written work, go to these:
http://wtflygas.blogspot.com/
http://heyhomieyourdicksonfire.blogspot.com/

Fuckin' shit, bro...

I have a few "what the fuck?" moments to share.

So, I've been in contact with this dude from Oklahoma City who had a reel to reel tape machine for sale. It looked pretty old, but still worked fine, had four inputs, and it was only fifty dollars. My girlfriend, being the awesome bitch that she is, wanted to get me a Christmas gift, and since everything else that I want isn't exactly a reasonable price, she decided to get the reel to reel. Sweet! One problem... Old boy with the tape machine sold it out from under me, that dirty bastard. So as a replacement gift she was going to buy me this old snare drum from a local antique store. Sweet! x2! Not sweet x2. Someone beat us to the punch. It seemed Christmas would be yet another let down. What the fuck?

BUT WAIT A FUCKIN' TICK! Amy's so awesome, she was all "Hey bro, let's just go to the city and I'll buy you some records (because the places to get records in Stillwater suck/= antique stores). And I was all "FUCK YEAH!" So, we went to the great city of Oklahoma... City... and hit up the mall for some friend gifts and Sabarro for some pizza. BTW, I'm not sure if you guys know about this, but there's a store called Forever 21. What the fuck is that place about? Goddamn, I've never felt like more of an idiot for walking into a place. Wall to wall full of dumbshit clothes with the most annoying dance pop playing loud as shit over the speakers. I dunno, I think this place is supposed to be hip or something. What the fuck?

Anyhoo, after the fuckin' mall, we fuckin' went to fuckin' Vintage Stock. HOLY SHIT. I had never been to a Vintage Stock before and nearly shat myself upon entering. My god, they have pretty much every nerdy thing I could ever want. Ever. Long story short we left with about $25 worth of VHS tapes (which comes out to about 18 tapes, including "Encino Man", signed by both Pauly Shore and Brendan Fraser), a copy of Tony Hawk's Pro Skater 2 for N64, a Mario Paint mouse for SNES, and a giant Ghostbusters poster. What the fuck?

We finally made our way to Guestroom where Amy bought me "Melted" by Ty Segall and I bought a few cassette tapes and some pins/buttons. Alright, here's the last "What the fuck?" moment. Back in "the day", when I was listening to more 80s hardcore than any kid not from the 80s should listen to, there was this band that I remember called Murphy's Law. I know I had at least one compilation with them on it, but don't really remember hearing them. I saw one of their tapes for two bucks and decided to buy it. Fuckin' dumb. I was an idiot and didn't look at the date on the back. 1991. This is a rule that is true for pretty much any hardcore band. If they were cool for like two years in the early 80s, they were probably shitty as shit in the early 90s. One of the dumbest albums I think I've heard. It's called "The Best of Times". It wasn't. It was actually the worst of times. It sounds like 80s Red Hot Chili Peppers, but shittier. Not only did I not see the date on the back, but I totally skipped all of the track titles. "Big Spliff", "Freaktown", "Santa's Got a Brand New Bag", "Hemp for Victory". Ya know, all the hits. I mean, fuck, man. What the fuckity fuck fuck fuck-a-roo? Were they kidding?! Bunch of fuckin' douche bags. Shit.

STUPID^^

Ok, it's time to make a smoothie. Later.

What I'm working with...

Aight you guys, I'm somewhat of an audiophile and have been separated from my records and record player for far too long. Well, we're back together again, and with the help of my girlfriend's mom we are better than ever. For helping her move a few things she gave me an Onkyo stereo receiver, a Sony 5 disc cd changer, a JVC dual cassette deck, and a real nice pair of Technics monitors. I got HOOKED up.

Thankfully cassette tapes have come back into my life, and in a huge way. Amy's kickass mom gave me all her badass tapes from the 80s. Far too many to mention in this little blurb, but rest assured, they are bad a.

Went to a local thrift store today and added a few to the collection...

Depeche Mode, The Replacements, The Association, and Bongwater. All free as shit.

Anyway, keep checking back. I should have some pretty cool shit coming up.

OFTEN THE RAPIST

Often the Rapist - "Often the Rapist", from their self titled album "Often the Rapist"

http://soundcloud.com/jordanbayhylle/often-the-rapist

The Lost Mexican't, Jay Jordan and Blue Eyed Mickey, Jordan Bayhylle

Taddy Keys Who?
http://soundcloud.com/jordanbayhylle/hard-rock-cafe-blues

Z Villain

The link... click it.

http://soundcloud.com/jordanbayhylle/z-villian-metal-of-honour

President Theodore Daniel Smith

Day 6

Four days into the Rick Springfield & Friends Cruise 2011 we are finally doing something that involves Rick Springfield. That's right. We came on the Rick Springfield cruise and have yet to even try to do something involving this man. Don't ask why. There isn't a real reason. We just... haven't gotten around to it. Maybe I'm trying to disappoint myself. I seem to do that a lot. I set myself up for disaster. Often. There's a lot weighing on my mind right now and for the first time in about a week "Pass the Dutchie" isn't one of them. Well, maybe a little.

Last night I was thinking about all the crazy shit that’s been going on back home and I started to get bummed out a little. My first time out of the country and my beautiful home state of Oklahoma, has 3 earthquakes (and from what I've heard, they weren't totally pussy.), tornadoes, the seriously heavy band, Boris, playing with former Fugazi bassist, Joe Lally, Tommy Stinson, from the rocking ass band The Replacements hanging out at my favorite record store, and I'm not there to be a part of any of it! Damn. But it's cool. This has still been a most non heinous trip and I don't regret coming. At all. I convinced myself that this is still totally worth it and then the clouds open and the sun shined on us. Metaphorically, of course. It was pretty late at night.

Brady and I were kind of itching to do something last night around 11:00 pm. We tidied the cabin up a bit for Natan. You know, so he didn’t think we are the complete slobs that we may or may not be. An inaugural shot and we make our way to the lobby deck to get some more drinks. Slowly walking through, scoping the place out, this thirty-something dark skinned chick, named Allie, yells “Hey, Independents! I know those guys!” She was referring to the shirt Brady was wearing. A band t he had recently stolen from his younger brother Jeremy. They started talking and I started listening. Things were going smooth, it seemed were making a new friend. Then somewhere on down the line she mentions her husband. Who is in a band. That band just so happens to be FUCKING CANNIBAL CORPSE. The fucking Deathmetal band. Half the reason I’m trying to make a big deal out of this is because it is a big deal. This girl Allie just happens to know some small ass band Brady saw in Tulsa in 1996. And then mentions her fucking metal ass husband. And… get this. She is into, I mean like way into Richard Springthorpe (Rick Springfield’s real/Australian name.). What are the odds? Really. What are the odds? After talking about Deathmetal for a bit we grab some more drinks and head to The Onyx room where Rick is supposedly going to perform an intimate solo piano show. We wait for a few hours and becomes apparent Rick isn’t going to play. It became apparent because some cruise official walked up to the mic and made an announcement saying that Rick wouldn’t make it. Disappointed we head back to the dance club where I was a huge hit a few days ago.

I need to interject this. I mentioned “Moving Like Bernie” earlier this week. Why? Well, the other night we went to the dance club. I was drunk, and decided to start cutting rugs. The only dance I can pull off well is the goddamn Bernie dance. And I did it for a really long time. People actually dug it, it was cool. Like I said I was a hit. I was dancing like a fool. Like Frank Zappa, I… was… a… dancing… fool. And I was cracking everyone up too, which was a major plus because that was my original intention. People started moving like Bernie with me and started calling me Bernie. There might have been some chants even, I‘m not sure, I was really drunk. People remembered my face on shore and on various decks they would notice me and yell “Hey Bernie! Remember me?! Yeah!” To top it off, while I was moving like Bernie the dj pulled through like a mother fucker and played the fucking “Moving Like Bernie” song. It truly was magical.

Movin' Like Bernie

Aight, now back to last night. We hang out well into the morning again, had some more awesome talks and passed out.

Aight, now back to earlier today. We finally go to a Rick show and no surprise, there are a lot middle-aged women patiently waiting in line to see their hero. The show started with some give-aways, and a quick Rick video montage and the ladies went ape shit. This man can make the most legit of 40 something year old woman act like they did when they were seeing their pop prince for the first time. But that’s no surprise either, really. Who does this not happen to (Too cool for school Johnny Shen, maybe…)? The band started playing, the curtain went up, and Rick sounded a little shaky. Nerves perhaps? This was the last show of the last cruise, as far as I know, that he’s doing. Hmm. Whatever the cause for the shaky voice, this situation was a little too intense. This whole trip has been a little too intense. But in a good way. We ended up leaving the show about three songs in and made our way to the Lido Deck for some chicken nuggets and more life discussions (common theme of the week).

About 4 hours later we finally hit up the fine dinning that we had been signed up for but never attended, for reasons unknown to us, and it was very pleasant. I had the Veal Parmesan with a side of scalloped potatoes and a glass of Castle Rock Cabernet Sauvignon. Brady had the meat loaf… We ended dinner with a  short discussion over Ghostbusters 1 & 2. I caught up with an Australian lady named Sandy that I had met a few nights before, snapped a picture, said goodbye, and started to leave The Universe (that‘s the name of the dinning room). Just before we turned around a song which seemed to be called “Reggae Nights” started blaring from the overhead speakers and people just got up and started dancing. It was very strange. Brady, noticing how strange it was, got out his phone to start documenting. We’d had enough of the weird and turned to the elevators to go back to the cabin. Just then the man himself, Rick Sprungsteenfeld, walked past us. I convinced Brades to ask him about the 7 inch record he made and presented to Mr. Springfield the first time he saw him in concert, and seconds into the conversation Rick’s stoic look turned to a smile as he replied with what seemed to be a head nod. It was… sweet, to say the least.

I had no idea, at the time, this song was Jimmy Cliff

So here I am in the cabin on the last night of our voyage to the Caribbean, our decent into madness, our magical once in a lifetime Rick Springfield & Friends 2011 Cruise, and instead of continuing my binge drinking and trying to find the next club Rick will be for the night, I’m writing. Both Brady and I have learned a lot about each other and ourselves. From going to almost not being able to even board the boat, to having a shit time, to having an amazing time, to becoming shamen(?), it’s almost over. We did it. We climbed the fucking mountain and shat on it. We made the mountain our bitch, and met a lot of really cool people along the way.

I know, from being around people all of my life, that our trip was way different from any other person on this boat’s trip. I mean for fucks sake, I know I’ve probably mentioned this a million times by now, but we went on a Rick Springfield cruise and didn’t even finish a single Rick Springfield thing. But that’s ok, he wasn’t my only motivation for tagging along with Brady on this adventure. The overall experience was. This is something that I will remember for the rest of my life and something that I can never do again. So, there. There it is. I’m pretty sure I covered most of what I wanted to say. I’m sorry if the continuity seems a little off, but I’ve been writing this piece all day. Fuck. This took a long time.

It's Only Rock'n Roll

Day 5

Last night was calm. Tonight's even more calm, but last night was calm. Brady and I spent some time apart to collect ourselves and I feel it was necessary. We got back together and decided to hit up the late night Mexican buffet. I keep tricking myself into thinking that the food isn't awful. It is. Back to the cabin to call it a night. Sleeping was just not in the cards at that time. Restless and lower backs in inconceivable pain Brady and I decided to stay up a do what our friendship is based on... talking about Rock'n Roll well into the morning. Dokken, Rick Springfield (sort of), Kurt Cobain (as usual), but mainly The Rolling Stones. I had no idea The Rolling Stones meant so much to Brady until this trip happened. Which, to me, is very surprising. We end up talking about music almost every time we hang out with each other (which is not a bad thing, nor does it get old). We also touched on a few other subjects, LSD, conspiracy theories (I can't get away from this subject, it follows me like a Jamaican peddler.), and shamanism. I never thought I'd leave Jamaica a shaman, but here we are. I don't really believe myself to be a shaman, but, what Brady described to me as to what a shaman is, or how to become a shaman, rather, is almost exactly what we have been doing to ourselves with the song "Pass the dutchie". It was a weird conclusion to come to, but we're weird people.

I think I ended up sleeping for about for about 10 hours. Not too out of the ordinary for me, but I needed it. My body was sooooooooo sore. I could barely get out of bed. It was about 2:30 pm, island time, and we had about an hour to see what Grand Cayman was all about. We didn't find out what it's ALL about, but we did meet some nice ass people. Unlike Jamaica, the people don't hassle you until you angrily hand them a few bucks. They present what they are selling and if you say "no thanks" they kindly leave you be. A coconut man explained to us that the Cayman Islands don't have the poverty issues that Jamaica does. Which you can easily tell if you aren't blind. Literally blind. Grand Cayman is very pretty and seems to be constantly expanding. Construction cranes and the like. That being said, people from Grand Cayman don't need to hassle you for money like the Jamaicans do. I'm not trying to be harsh on Jamaica and it's people, but it is completely different from the story book version and "Cool Runnings."

We walked around for a few blocks in search of some righteous food and drink, and of course... a record store. We found the food. Roti. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wrap_roti  The lady selling it was probably the most pleasant person, other than Natan, that we've met thus far. Brady made small talk with her while we ate, mainly about peppers. Gettin' some points with the locals. We finished eating and asked the nice Roti lady if there were any record stores around. We were in luck! A record store by the name of "Funky Tangs" was just around the block. With the Caribbean accent, it sounded like she was saying "Funky Town". Much to our chagrin, that was not the case. And even more so, it wasn't a record store. It looked to be a pawn shop with a section full of cds. Meh. We made the best of the situation and our time left on the island and quickly grabbed a bunch of dub, which turned out to be really awesome (stand out dub: the album "Dread Beat An'Blood" by Linton Kwesi Johnson. If you can find, get it.) and because of last nights convo, I decided to get an album I hadn't heard in forever. The Rolling Stones' "It's Only Rock'n Roll". It just ended in fact, and because I haven't gotten "my rocks off" I'm continuing the Stones train with "Exile On Main Street" while I finish this blog entry.

After Funky Tangs, we had about 15 minutes and 10 blocks to get back to the ferry to get back to the boat and on our way back to America. We made it. Awesome. While in line for the ferry, we made small talk with about 7 middle-aged women who referenced the musical "Grease". Grease reference count on the trip so far: 3. They were nice ladies. Back to the cabin. I slept for a couple more hours. Woke up just before Brady walked in from eating on the Lido Deck. By the way, As Brady said, "The Lido Deck is where IT goes on". That's where the shit goes down. Food, movies, documentaries about Rick, air guitar contests, you name it they've got it. Anyway, he told me they had some not so bad food, leg of lamb, mint jelly, beer battered fish. It was the best food the boat had to offer. Like I mentioned, the food on this boat has been... not good, and this was the best they've given us. I scarfed it down, grabbed a cup of coffee to take back to the room to enjoy with a cigarette and an ocean view. Watching the ocean from the balcony is still my favorite thing to do on the boat. Well maybe drinking is. They're both pretty rad and when you do them at the same time it's like a ménage à trois  for the senses.

So, I think it's about nine o'clock. I'm not sure what to do with myself. I haven't ingested any alcohol today. That needs to change. One more cup of coffee and one more cigarette, then some kind of alcohol.

Cheers!

Post script: This is Brady's blog. Read it. It's too good not to. http://heyhomieyourdicksonfire.blogspot.com/

Moving Like Bernie

Days 3/4

Let me just start off by saying that cruises are fucking insane. The people on cruises are fucking insane. Jamaica is insane.

Brades and I spent the first day on the boat drinking ourselves into submission. Not gonna lie, blackout drunk happened. Surprise. Somehow, though, we made it back to the cabin.

The beginning of the next day the unthinkable happened. "Pass the Dutchie" by Musical Youth played on repeat for what seemed like an eternity. Listening to any "music" other than said song doesn't even make sense anymore. All sense is slowly going the way of the buffalo. Listening to this song the way we listen to it is driving me crazy. Binge drinking for the past 3 days is taking it's toll on my mind and body.

Shots, beer, more beer, another shot, another beer, cigar, martinis, white russians, dirty bananas, "fun ships", shots, beer, dance club, professional baseball, beer, stand up comedians, what the fuck, moving like bernie, old people who are into Rick Springfield and not Black Metal, more beer, pizza, talking about Rick Springfield, Black Metal, and politics to Rick Springfield fans until eight in the morning. Arriving to Jamaica. WHAT... THE... FUCK... Pass the dutchie pon the left hand side. How does it feel when you've got no food? Dr. Peter Venkman.

Everyone in Jamaica tries to make money by pestering the fuck out of you. "Yes, I would like to smoke weed with your dreads." "Thank you, Jamaican man, for the free bracelet that says 'IRIE'." "One of the "highest" murder rates in the world, you say."

The food was pretty good.

I swam in the ocean for the first time in my life. The water is salty. The beach was sandy. Just like everyone says.

The food was pretty good.

I feel like dog shit.

Did I mention the food?

No luck on finding a Jamaican record store, nor on smoking the dope.

"How does it feel when you've got no food?"

Day 2

I started the day with a hangover, and ended it with copious amounts of booze. The hotel in Ft. Lauderdale, The Hyatt Pier 66, was probably the nicest I've ever slept in. Designed in the 60s by Brady's Grandfather, it looked like a stack of dominoes that had been twisted from top to bottom (That's actually how he got the idea). After a quick trip to the Oasis Cafe for a grilled chicken burrito and a handful of taxi's, we were off to Miami to set sail aboard the Carnival Destiny (that's the name of the boat). Upon arrival we were told we needed passports or birth certificates to verify we were American citizens. Or something. Surprisingly, we did not have those things on hand. One day into the trip and we almost fucked it all. Luckily, fax machines were invented for such purposes, and we made it. We got on the boat, found our cabin, and immediately started pounding... various alcohols. I was shit-face wasted by 7 p.m. eastern time.

Mingling on a Rick Springfield cruise is pretty easy, bee tee dub. It seemed past a certain time everyone is drinking and eager to talk to other people that are drinking. We met some pretty interesting people from all over the world. Minnesota, Canada, the Philippines, Lithuania, Serbia, Mexico, Turkey. And soon I will have met Jamaicans. And hopefully smoke their dope.

I'm not quite sure how drunk I officially "was", but a good sign was waking up in the cabin at 3:30 a.m. still unbelievably drunk and even more confused. I don't know how we managed to get back to the cabin, but we didn't make it unscathed. Brady's leg, for some reason, looks as if someone put out a cigar on it and his face, somehow, got covered in ketchup. Really, the only disappointment was how many people aren't walking around the ship at 4 in the morning. Oh, and the lack of awesome drugs. Sure booze is fun and all, but sometimes situations such as Rick Springfield & Friends Cruise 2011 would be better accompanied with strong psychedelics. Oh well...

Here are some pictures...

Rick Springfield & Friends Cruise: Day 1

Aight, so here's the shit... A really good friend of mine, B. W., was gracious enough to take me with him on a trip to Jamaica. On a cruise. A Rick Springfield cruise. A fucking cruise to Jamaica with Rick Springfield. He will be performing. He will be hanging out.

"What's the big deal?", you might be asking, "Who's Rick Springfield?", you might be asking. Well...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oxY7X11ExUI

He's somewhat of a badass... And I never would have known it if it weren't for Mr. B.W.

So, now that that's out of the way. I'm poppin' a lot of cherries this week. I've never been more than 2 states away from Oklahoma, have never flown on a plane, have never seen the ocean, and have never been on a boat (at least a boat the size of a cruise ship).

(going over the Red River... or something)

Anyhoo... I'm drinking a 32 oz. of Old English in a hotel room in Ft. Lauderdale right now and it needs to be finished. I will be updating frequently, so check back tomorrie if you're not an asshole. J/K.

<3
JORDZ

LoJump

Cave Brothers

Also, you should check this out...

http://soundcloud.com/jordanbayhylle/cave-brothers

inklets...

Hey frens, first post. AXL is alive! Here are some old sketch/drawings that i feel like sharing. the last one is a work in progress...