I've got some new paintings
That I will post this week
Hopefully some of what I've made
Is exactly what you seek
I dig bold, simple colors
Like yellow, blue, and red
Straight from the tube
And straight from my head
And always like a cartoon
With the bold black line
And lots of little boozers
Drinking lots of wine
And lots of little music nerds
Listening to their tunes
And making little beats they are my
Stream-of-consciousness cartoons
I performed at Embassy 35 last night
A performance made better by projections and light
It was a cool venue, a very cool space
And the people who came made it the cool place
And then after I played was a one-man-band
Which you gotta see to believe and to understand
But he played guitar, keys, and drums and yep it's true
All the songs that he sang were about Scooby-Doo
photo by Lissa Maki
It's Saturday morning and I've got a big day
I play three hours 'acoustic' at Zeitgeist Cafe
And then later, much later, at 10pm
I set up my rig and perform 'electro' again
That'll be my second electro gig of this week
Down at Embassy 35 on Superior Street
It may be the last time I ever appear
With this rig and its specific setup and gear
The plan is to find an easier way to perform
And plus this Classic Rig is tired and worn
New stuff will be written on new little toys
Some stuff might be pretty but some might be noise
I have a headache this morning
As I always do after I play a show
And I'm hoping it will go away
Becuz tonight to the Cedar I must go
Yes, yesterday evening I performed
For the local PBS station
And I drank two gallons of water
To maintain my hydration
The adrenaline hangover
Is what I call this condition
And I wonder if it is a chronic part
Of being a performing musician
I used to think my affliction was because
I would drink too much beer or wine
But I haven't had a sip of booze
In over two years time
Oh, this cross that I must carry
Why me, Lord, why me?
Can't I play one performance
Without the next day feeling crappy?
Dammit, Ingeborg,
Stop your complaining!
You can't bitch and moan
Every time that it is raining!
If you want your world to come alive
Then come to Embassy Thirty-five
The freaks are out they've all volunteered
Those guardian angels who keep Duluth weird
October 10th, 11th, 12th from 6pm-2am. Ingeborg performs Saturday at 10pm. Photo stolen from Robot Rickshaw.
When people ask for my info
A CD is all I got
So I designed myself a little card
Because, I say, why not?
Cuz folks no longer have
CD players in their cars
And I want something to give these people
When I'm out playing at the bars
And plus I can scribble
Download codes on the back
So these folks can have a listen
When they're hangin' at their shack
I’m becoming more of a grownup every day.
I got to get out the box of cords and dig
Cuz it's time I set up my Classic Rig
It's been dismantled for quite a while
Putting it together kinda makes me smile
It's wonky, you see
But it's kinda perfect for me
Cuz I'd be lying if I said I wasn't wonky too
Who's not wonky? I'm asking you!
On Thursday I perform at Catalyst film fest
I gotta rehearse ya know so I can do my best
Cuz people not from here will be around
And by the way here's the current state
of our downtown:
Black tea with bergamot
His name is Earl Grey
I think i'm gonna make a cup
Today will be the day
Cuz I drink too much coffee
I am not kidding around
My heart beats too fast
It really does pound
So I'm gonna be kind to it
And avoid coffee extra strong
I've been drinking coffee since age twelve
Which is over twenty years long
Yup, coffee is like a vice
And my other would be junk food
But I'll talk about that later
This poem is about that Earl Grey dude.
I have one little memory
To share regarding hot tea
Of an important time
In life for me
When I was a young teenager
And berry farm employed
Nothing mattered in the world
Except listening to Pink Floyd
On a beautiful summer night
I made a thermos of Earl Grey tea
I thought that was okay
And that it didn't contain caffeine
But I was up until the sun came up
Just me in my basement room
On a spiritual journey
On the dark side of the moon
And I remember going outside
With a head full of Pink Floyd words
And how precious the world seemed
In the twittering of birds
