It's Bobbie Gentry's  birthday today. Happy Birthday, where ever you are. 

Here's my song: Where is Bobbie Gentry?

The song is off my fan funded record, California Years. Just saying in case you don't have it.

I have no idea where or why I came up with this one. Maybe I just wanted an excuse to use the Timpani. But below the camp and 60s theme song chirpiness, lies a sad sack story of legal drug use. 

Rainy Day Parade

I used to have the world in my handbag
How did I manage to blow it?
I missed the bus, I lost my heart
An an awful lot of mornings
I used to have the stars in my pockets
Now I just watch them on TV
My friends, they've all run away
But they'll come back again
And we'll have a celebration
Getting back on my medication
We'll have a rainy day parade

I used to live with someone who loved me
But somehow they ran out of patience
I regret those things I said
They were so uncalled for
Can't you see that the weather is changing
The dark clouds over my head
About to burst, I've seen the worst
Let it pour all day
'Cause I'm filled with good vibrations
I got that old sensation
We'll have a rainy day parade

You're gonna want me back
You're gonna let me in
We're gonna wash our sins away

Got the world in my handbag
Got my notebook too
Got the stars in my pocket
I'm gonna give them all to you

And we'll take a long vacation
We'll sweep across the nation
We'll have a rainy day parade
Getting back that old sensation
Back on my medication
We'll have a rainy day parade

                 (Sobule/Eaton)

You can listen here: Rainy Day Parade

By the way, this song is on my Pink Pearl record. If you don't have it, I suggest ordering it on my website. It might make a good gift -and hint - for any friend that you think would benefit from meds.

I've been very lucky to have opened up for Billy Bragg several times though out the years . Not only am I a big fangirl, but I consider him a big influence. From him, I think I learned that you don't have to have a big-ass loud rock band to...rock. Billy is best, I think, as a solo performer. And unlike many other activist minded musicians, he knows how to mix humor with his politics. 

Billy is also very generous. He always would allot time for my soundcheck -I always say you can tell a person by how they treat waitresses and opening acts. I have been both...a lot.

On one tour, Billy would bring me out during his  encore to do a cover of Bowie's (or Mott the Hoople) "All the Young Dudes". Here is a live recording from the Barbican in London (2004).

 Listen here: All the Young Dudes

" I'd rather have a bottle in front of me, than a frontal lobotomy"

In high school, I was a big Dorothy Parker Fan. I thought it was somehow really cool to quote her. I hoped, one day, that I  also would have fabulous writer friends who exchanged witty banter, chain- smoked, and drank a lot. Then, after reading her biography, I found out that she was  a miserable mean wretch who, surprise...was a raging alcoholic. 

I also loved T. S. Elliot. Then I read:

"The rats are underneath the piles,

The jew is underneath the lot."

He, like Ezra Pound and Celine (not Dion), I learned, were big anti-semites.

It's a bit of a  drag growing up and realizing many of your idols were... assholes; that being uber talented doesn't mean necessarily that you are a nice person. Even today, I can get disappointed.

A year ago, I met a famous new-age  health guru (wearing diamond encrusted glasses) at a conference. I heard he was a dick to all the workers there. They also told me he hid Diet Coke in a tea cup. I'm not sure that's true, but I like the story.

On my Pink Pearl record, I recorded a song about this very subject: imperfect heroes.

You can listen here: Heroes

Why are all our heroes so imperfect
Why do they always bring me down
Why are all our heroes so imperfect
The statue in the park has lost his crown

William Faulkner drunk and depressed
Dorothy Parker mean, drunk and depressed
And that guy in Seven Years in Tibet turned out to be a nazi
The founding fathers all had slaves, the explorers slaughtered the braves,
The Old Testament God can be so petty

Paul McCartney jealous of John, even more so now that he's gone
Dylan was so mean to Donovan in that movie
Pablo Picasso cruel to his wives
My favorite poets took their own lives
Orson Welles peaked at 25, ballooned before our eyes
and he sold bad wine

Heard Babe Ruth was full of malice
Lewis Carroll I'm sure did Alice
Plato in the cave with those very young boys
TS Elliott hated Jews, FDR didn't save the Jews
All the French joined the resistance after the war
Raymond Chandler drunk and depressed
Tennessee Williams drunk and depressed
Think I'll just get drunk and depressed. 
 

By the way, I am thinking of  "Heroes Part 2". If you have any good people to include, please let me know. 

My best friend in 7th grade stopped hanging out with me and started getting all girly. 

She didn't care about the Broncos, spies, or rock music anymore. Her IQ dropped as her voice raised in that kind of silly Betty Boop flirty way. She did her nails. She had these new really boring normal friends. She went out with Robbie Naiman. He was an asshole.

 I was heartbroken. 

Strawberry Gloss also harkens back to the days of tube tops, Candies (remember them?), and first time I slid into "first base".

Listen here:jhttp://jillsobule.com/resources/StrawberryGloss.mp3

The song is on my Underdog Victorious CD. If you don't have it already, you can get it at my store. I'm just saying.

How do you get to Carnegie Hall? You volunteer to be a judge for the Scholastic Art and Writing Awards. I'm not quite sure why they asked me; I just write three minute songs. However, I was honored to be included. What I didn't realize was how much reading was required. One week after I accepted, I was sent this ginormous box full of short stories from 7th to 12 graders -about 10 days worth of reading. What was even more overwhelming was how good, deep, and pretty dark the stories were. Shoot, when I was in 7th grade, I was writing drivel. My first song: " Clouds, they Come and Go, Come and Go, Come and Go". Anyway, Scholastic also asked if I would come up with a song to perform at the awards ceremony, which would take place at...Carnegie Friggin' Hall! The same stage where Gershwin, Rachmaninoff, Stravinsky, and Spinal Tap once stood! 

I have to admit that I was a little freaked out. Not just to play the revered hall, but to play in front of the smartest, most talented kids in the entire country. What song would I sing? What lyric would not get their eyes rolling? 

After thinking real hard, as well as being somewhat of a semi-slacker, I thought I would rework one of my crowd favorites, "Underdog Victorious". Rather than a budding rock star, I would make Bobby Trucks, the protagonist, a writer. Instead of shredding his guitar like a super hero, he would be equipped with a leather Moleskin and a feather plume.

On the big night, I was feeling pretty confident. Plus, I had a half an emergency Xanax in case I panicked. That's until they asked me to talk a bit before the song. Yikes! What do you say to really really bright kids who probably can see what a big impostor I am (I have issues that pop up ever now and then). I had no time to prepare anything, so I just winged it and...told the truth.

I said..."You scare me". I said that I was intimidated to sing my song in front of "the most talented and bad-ass kids around". And what do you know? That did it! They were now on my side. Using the word "bad-ass" sealed the deal. No matter how mature and brilliant a kid is, they still appreciate a bit of cussing. I even got them to sing the end chorus with me!

It was only after completing song that I could then truly take in the amazement of the evening. These kids were incredible. These were the future Capotes, Warhols, and Avedons (all past award recipients). 

As Whitney once sang (not an award winner), " I believe the children are our future".

My good friend and fab song-writer pal, Bill Demain, lost years worth of journals, records, books, etc. in the Nashville flood two weeks ago. I can't imagine. Well, I sort of can. Ironically, Bill helped me write a song about losing some of my own childhood memorabilia to a flooded basement years ago. The song is called Sonny Liston. Sonny (the champ who knocked out Floyd Patterson but lost to Ali) lived in Denver for a few years and took his dog to my dad (the veterinarian). We had a signed color photo of him that hung over the tiki bar in the basement. For some reason, I loved that photo. That, along with my beloved David Bowie poster, were among the lost.

I give Bill my love and sympathy. I wish for him to fill up a hundred journal books full of wondrous songs and stories. 

Here's the song, if you care to listen: Sonny Liston. It's from my Folk Years 2003-2003 album

My good friend and fab song-writer pal, Bill Demain, lost years worth of journals, records, books, etc. in the Nashville flood two weeks ago. I can't imagine. Well, I sort of can. Ironically, Bill helped me write a song about losing some of my own childhood memorabilia to a flooded basement years ago. The song is called Sonny Liston. Sonny (the champ who knocked out Floyd Patterson but lost to Ali) lived in Denver for a few years and took his dog to my dad (the veterinarian). We had a signed color photo of him that hung over the tiki bar in the basement. For some reason, I loved that photo. That, along with my beloved David Bowie poster, were among the lost.

I give Bill my love and sympathy. I wish for him to fill up a hundred journal books full of wondrous songs and stories. 

Here's the song, if you care to listen: Sonny Liston. It's from my Folk Years 2003-2003 album

I'm just back in LA, and now figuring out what chores and projects I need to tackle first. If I had money, the first thing I would get is a personal assistant or clone. I'm not sure whether to work on the musical first, new personal songs, a song that I have to write for the Scholastic awards in June, or go to Trader Joe's. How does one get an intern or personal assistant?

But nobody can tell you the 7 virtues
Nobody praises the grade school teacher, but Everybody has a favorite serial killer.
And everybody watched the celebrity trial in detail
But nobody can tell who sits on the Supreme Court
And everybody wants better schools for their children, but nobody wants to pay their taxes.
Everybody wants to be loved and famous but they’ll drop kick your ass to be loved and famous.
Nobody wants the fat pregnant woman
But everybody loves the pumped up action hero

 Mom, I take you for granted, like some old forgotten habit. And, I know that you gave me life and helped me pay some bills.
Mom, I take you for granted, I was never abandoned.
Even though sometimes you really piss me off, I hope you live forever.
Mom

Oh, and here is someone's phone video of Nelly's "Hot in Herre" with my mom at Joe's Pub. 

Just to let you know, we probably talk about two or three times a day -ridiculous. I say, "I used to spend my childhood trying to get needed attention and approval from my mom. Now, I can't get rid of it".

Happy Mom's day to all of you moms.

No one got in the way. No know-it-all bugged Dave, the engineer, with their personal thoughts on how the EQ should be set  on my vocals. In fact, I  kind of want to record like this all the time.  I'm talking about the session where the fab John Doe and I invited fans to spend the entire day  in the studio to watch us make a record (or two EPs). The energy of having people there was such a revelation, as well as a good antidote from the often times sterility of a recording studio. Some fans came at 10:00 and experienced the annoying "getting of drum sounds" and the unexciting setting up of microphones. But they did get to see us arrange the songs and figure out parts. We put together a damn good band, including the sharply dressed Don Was on upright bass. They, as well as John and I, enjoyed having people there. I think it put us on our best behavior (in a good way) as well as made us want to perform really good. I wonder if it would be wrong to invite people to my kitchen - maybe my cooking would be better?

Anyhoo, I would love to do a fan-funded/participation day in other cities. Your town?

Last month, I was remiss in not writing about my experience in New Orleans at an artist retreat. I was asked to join a group of fellow activist musician types  to come down to the Big Easy, meet folks from the community, and discuss our own concerns and causes. The get away was put together by the wonderful folks at ATP and Future of Music Coalition. It was one of the best weeks of my life. I could tell you more, but  one of my fellow retreat musicians wrote a wonderful blog post about it, so if you're interested here is... Tim Quirk's . Now, I feel like I am a little more prepped than others on Treme. I love that show!  Oh, I got to meet, pictured above, the chief of the Yellow Pocahontas.

I have not been great at updating my blog. I think part of it has to do with the fact that I am not able to have  a place for interaction or comments. I am very active on all my social network sites (except for Myspace which is really... Rupert's Space) in part, because I am able to have that  two way communication. I hope in the next couple of weeks to change that, as well as other improvements on my website. I want it to be a fun place for people to come to. If anyone has any good ideas, let me know

My cousin (Steve) has just sent me this photo.I was so excited to open and and see this record. I have no recollection of this great/awful album cover. What is it!?

Somehow this picture says a lot about me. Not sure what.

In the picture are also my dogs Pinky and Poochie.  

 Side story: my dad was a veterinarian. When I was little, wanting to emulate my dad, I took Pinkie's temp with a tinker toy. Pinkie, who was the sweetest, bit me and I had to get two stitches. I was just trying to help.

 April 1, 2010

 I loved reading the comments Youtube. Someone called me a "hippie bitch". I think that is going to be my new band name.    

MP3

Three years ago, they added another location during the conference called TEDactive, which now is in Palm Springs. It is smaller, thus more intimate, a little younger, less self-important and maybe more fun. Also, it cost half the price. Last year, I put together a ragtag group of musicians for a night of music. For some reason -and I can't remember how or why, we called ourselves..."Taco Pants". Taco Pants, by the way, is a very un-TED-like name. We did a mix of originals and worthy covers. The personal of Taco Pants changed this year, but it always includes band leaders: John Doe (X, and Knitters) and me. This year we added Don Was on upright bass, and Sarah Watkins on uke and violin. 

We played two shows: one in the loud hotel bar,  the other in some strange fake western ghost town right on the San Andreas fault. Not only could you hear our band, but you could put someone in jail, shoot bb guns at a booth, and drink all the free bear and wine you acquired. BB guns and alcohol -what a mix! Also, performing that night were String Theory and the DJs from Dublab (who are so deep with their musical knowledge and good taste. That is a good combo)

So, here is a video taken from a friends phone of a couple of  Taco Pants numbers. Sarah Watkins sings an old Linda Ronstadt on her ukelele, and I sing Big Shoes. My mother joins in with a rap she wrote. 

Dick Cavett -who should come back to TV and host the tonight show

Joshua Bell - not a hack

Marvin Minsky -father of Artificial Intelligence

Jeff Bezos - rich but nice

Graham Kerr (the Galloping Gourmet) and Treena

Woz

Anna Lee-freak of nature 14 year old violin prodigy 

I think at some point, I will use a good camera -as opposed to the one on my Iphone - and shoot better photos for my continuing series of..."Remarkable People Playing My  Little Travel Guitar"

I hope I do not become like the odd homeless-looking fellow in Philly who has waited outside of theaters and clubs for 30 years to take pictures of himself with the stars.

Were you a little down yesterday? I didn't think I was, but reconsidered after reading an article in the Guardian. I suffered the whole day without knowing it was...Blue Monday. According to some psychologist it is "the most depressing day of the year" Come to think of it, the weather was gloomy, the race for Ted Kennedy's seat seemed to go further downhill for the Democratic candidate, and I had a bit of indigestion for most the morning.

It is still rainy and overcast -which actually I love, as it is the constant sun in LA that brings me down. 

For those still feeling the after effects of yesterday, I thought I would post a song of mine: 

Rainy  Day Parade

Cheer up.

by the way, just in case you are interested, the song is on my fav record Pink Pearl

A fan just sent me a live version of Warren and I singing "Jackson". I thought I would share it. Mind you, it's pretty raw. So don't judge me!

When I first met Warren, I was very worried. I was about to start a month tour opening up for him. I heard he was very difficult. I heard he was a total asshole to the opening act and pretty much everyone else. For the first few days, I kept to myself. I gave him a lot of space. Before the fourth show, in my much smaller greenroom, he knocked at my door, came in, and asked, "what's the matter, think I have Rabies?". The next day, he became my friend, my protector, and... my mentor. I never had a mentor, and always wanted one.

I have so many great stories about him, which soon I will write about. But one thing I will not disclose is the emails we wrote to one another while he was dying. During our tours (we did two together), Warren was always the gentleman. He never made inappropriate sexual remarks in front of me. He never made a pass. However, one day, while he was probably in bed on morphine, I received a pretty raunchy flirtatious email from him. Of course, it was also humorous and witty. He was the wittiest man I ever knew. I remember one day telling him that I thought his new record -the one he was touring on -was going to be a hit. He replied, "Jill, it has as much future as a...Civil War leg wound". Anyway, how do you not respond to a dying man? I wrote back and tried to match him. I tried to outdo his grossness. Thus, proceeded a series of very blue emails that I will cherish until the day I die.

One of my favorite Warren lyrics:

I can saw a woman in two 
But you won't want to look in the box when I do 
I can make love disappear 
For my next trick I'll need a volunteer 

I can pull a rabbit out of a hat 
I can pull it out but I can't put it back 
I can make love disappear 
For my next trick I'll need a volunteer 

Also, here is my cover of his "Don't Let Us Get Sick"

We are closing the t-shirt portion of our store to bring you new designs. We have pretty much sold out of the old ones. However, we have a bunch of the Pinko shirts left. For some reason, they were erroneously listed as not available. So you have one week to be cooler than you already are. They are on sale for...$10:00  $10:00  $10:00

xo, jill

Also, if any of you have great design ideas, let me know. Or, if you dying to have one of the older models-like the Jetpack. I aim to please.

On a completely other note: Last night, I was in a video with Bears (gay bears) as my backing band. We got real hot and sweaty.

http://twitpic.com/wv6kz

Last week, I wrote a Facebook update on...things I was afraid of as a kid: quicksand, Tsetse Flies, Swallowing my tongue and those Boys from Brazil.

Here are some of the responses I got:

Clowns & Leprosy---too many Bible stories and Ben Hur

Appendicitis, Nuns

Getting my arm cut off while using an elevator

When Fred Flintstone got locked out of his house

Dragonflies. And spontaneous human combustion

(and my favorite)

Zest Soap

"Oh Wendell, where are you now. I searched online and nothing found

I wonder what you've done and what you've become

Wendell you were the first for me. We were both stoned and seventeen

After or date at the Denny's, we got it on. Got it on...didn't last too long"

I had not done it yet. You would have never guessed. I considered myself a rather hip girl for my age. I had a fake ID, had smoked pot, and played in a glam rock band with older guys who had suspect English accents (they were from Denver). Yet, I think, I was the last of my girlfriends to go “all the way”-fourth base. I was starting college in a week and this seemed absurd and somewhat shameful.

Second day of my freshman year at Colorado University: I thought I would find the cutest guy in our dorm, make an advance, and get over that hump.

During our dorm floor orientation, this adorable, but sort of badass looking Hawaiian boy with dark aviators and surfing shorts, walked in. Wendell not only was my “first”, but he also remained my boyfriend for the rest of the year.

Many years later: I spent an entire evening on the internets trying to find out what ever happened to Wendell. No luck. Not everyone has a personal vanity website, tweets, or does Facebook. After that, I started Googling other people from the past. This was not a complete waste of time as I ended up writing a song called…Wendell Lee.

The song has been out in the world (on California Years) for almost nine months. People have inquired if I have heard from Wendell.

Last week: I received an email from Wendell.  He had not heard the song. I sent him the record (with a wooden dreidel –I have a ton of them left over from my holiday CD). He is, I think, honored to have a song with his name in the title. He was, however, curious about what the little wooden toy was all about. Just to let you know, he has fared better than the other exes in the song. He is still cute, has his hair, and a job.

He sent me a bunch of pictures that he took from our time together. I have not seen myself from that period in many a year. I forgot about my Loraine Newmanish perm. I forgot that despite the hairdo, I was actually kind of cute too. I never felt that way though. I was about to go into a full-blown eating disorder the following summer. Is youth wasted on the young?  Nah, just let’s you reflect and write a good semi-depressing song.

For New Years Eve: I raise a glass of Champaign (or really bad Cold Duck –because, I think, that’s what we might have drank along with a few bong hits and bumps) to all the exes who have rediscovered each other on one of the various social networking sites.  Cheers!

Oh, here is a video of the song from the wacky Bob and Tom show: Wendell Lee. 

And you can get the song on California Years!

Don't laugh!