“50 States With 50 Shapes.”
The computers see us as insane, irrational creatures obsessed with food? One of the hit songs on my new hit album is called “50 States With 50 Shapes.” Here is a fun compilation of all the state shout-outs with computer art impressions of each one from an article I found on the internet that made me genuinely laugh harder than I have in a very very long time. I hope this brings you joy. The computers apparently do not consider diversity in their casting decisions. Montana and Wyoming win in a long shot. How did your state fare?
“In the 80s in America.”
The fifth episode on the ongoing quadrennial series “It Doesn’t Matter Why It Is, It Doesn’t Matter If It’s Wrong” is hereby inflicted upon the world today! The full album and the rest of the series is only on Bandcamp. Stream all you like over there for free and/or get two secret bonus tracks if you name your own price and buy it. And thank you! And here is the third video from the album for the song “In the 80s in America.” It was really fun to write and record this one. I hope you have fun listening to it.
“I Still Like Obama.”
The second single and video from the new album is “I Still Like Obama,” which premiered on Americana Highways!
“The Last Black Lives Matter Sign in the Neighborhood.”
NEW SINGLE + VIDEO: “The Last Black Lives Matter Sign in the Neighborhood” is out this Friday, April 12th. Remember when Black Lives Matter signs were everywhere? Where did they all go? First they were replaced with Ukrainian flags. Now there are Free Palestine signs. When do those come down and what will take their place? This is the first song released from the forthcoming new album: Part V in the “It Doesn’t Matter Why It Is, It Doesn’t Matter If It’s Wrong” series.
New album announcement!
I just finished the mixes for a new album! It is the fifth installment in the quadrennial series "It Doesn't Matter Why It Is, It Doesn't Matter If It's Wrong." For those of you who are here because of the bike content, I also make music. Most of the bike riding, in fact, is in service of making music (which is my job). I'm not going to create any new plastic in the manufacturing of this album so a great way to support its completion + release is to get on board over at Patreon for as little as $1-3 a month (or more?) -- you do the math! Everything I make will always be public because I make stuff for everybody, but however you choose to support my creations with your money is also always great. If you have energy to share in financial form, I will accept it and it will make me stronger. More to come!
Doing Stuff Without A Car - Episode 7: Going To A City Council Meeting (1/3).
Part 1 of a trilogy of episodes related to the Board of Appeals meeting at City Hall about the glorious Great Highway’s inevitable destiny as a public space. Local government rocks SO HARD. The views and opinions expressed in this program are those of singer/songcyclist John Elliott and do not necessarily reflect the views or positions of Great Highway Park, San Francisco Recreation and Park Department, or San Francisco Municipal Transportation Agency.
Down here at the end of the year 2023
Very early morning after a sweet last show of the year at the cozy Lost Church in San Francisco with friends R.O. Shapiro and Summer Shapiro. I woke up to pee and now I can’t fall back asleep so I thought: time to blog!
Blog as a verb. Those were the days.
I didn’t get home with my post show burrito until well after midnight. Had me feeling nostalgic for “the days.” That whole “the youth is wasted on the young” thing. I read a great piece that warned against wasting your 30s if you spend them trying to recapture the spirit of your 20s. The 30s are a unique and special and fleeting time all on their own. So are the 40s. And so on. I loved that. I’m 45 now and I love getting up and going to bed early. It was novel and strange to ride my bike home so late last night. The drunken sloppiness of the other burrito getters, the silence of the side streets, the serenity of the early AM. Real beauty there.
For a while — call it my 30s — I loved the summer and almost feared the winter. I was captive in an internal boom and bust cycle that mirrored the seasons. As the days got shorter, I knew the darkness was coming to eclipse the carefree cruise of July. But these days down here at the end of the year, I find myself grateful and relieved for winter. In my hibernation cocoon with people I love, books to read, shows to stream, and Japanese yams.
2023 was one helluva year in my little corner of the human experience. Losing our home in January – at first due to mold and then because of landlord incompetence and probably greed – set the tone of transition for all twelve months. Everything changed, then changed again. After such a tumultuous time, I am finding gratitude for the new roots we are growing on the other side of the park. It’s louder here, more the city than the fringes, and that has its blessings and challenges. I have a new bike and I am in love with it (thank you Scenic Routes for the inspiration, labor, and love).
Looking toward another turn of the calendar, the transitions will continue. Whatever it was to be a musician when I was 25 is not the same twenty years later. The entire industry has changed and been dismantled and cobbled back together again…sort of…but I’m talking more about how it feels inside. The personal aspect. The other day I was watching a band of younger people set up and play and I was taking in their whole vibe with the same detached wonder I felt riding home late last night. Something like: this was me, but it is not me anymore. And: it’s still happening, but I’m not a part of it anymore. “It” is youth? The energy of youth? The audacity? The arrogance? The ignorance? The joy! All of it, beautiful and wasteful. Nostalgia.
There are no shows on the calendar and I like that. One of the things I loved most about the peak pandemic shelter-in-place period was that there were no plans. Nothing was booked. I was fully present in my adult life for the first time ever. Usually, my future is planned months in advance with tours and travel. There was a time I loved that, but I’m feeling quite content looking at that blank slate. I have enough acorns for the winter and I’m content to pause and reaccess.
Another nice thing about 45 is I feel a lot less anxiety about my creativity and identity as an artist. I am comfortable with the ebbs and flows of inspiration and productivity. I have a new album nearly finished and a number of songs already written for the one after that. I know that production will continue. I love to perform and I know that will continue as well. For a number of reasons, far flung travel is going to continue to shift and evolve. “The grass is always greener where you water it” — have you heard that one? I’m thinking about my promises to not tour with cars and airplanes and how, despite many successes and behavioral changes, I continued to make exceptions as the world opened back up and performance opportunities materialized in Europe and on the other side of the US. This is a work in progress and even as I write it I’m equivocating in my mind (if a good offer comes in from far away…), but the intention is to keep it local and hyperlocal. Bike and train and transit adjacent spots. There are many corners of my little piece of the planet that I have not explored. I would love to do so in the next couple years without getting on an airplane or renting a car. Let’s put that out into the ether and see what bounces back.
Well, I’ve been blogging long enough now that the day is starting to brighten the edges of the curtains. I don’t think I’m going back to sleep tonight. I’ll make some coffee, turn on the Christmas tree lights, and see what today is going to be. Wishing you peace and coziness out there.