The Ten Opening Promises

What I lay before you are ten promises directly from the horse’s mouth. These are things that will give you, dear reader, an admittedly broad overview of what you can expect from my future posts. And so, here without any further ado are the ten opening promises:

1) I promise that no matter what Jack White does in his excuse for a career, you will never read about how I finally “get” him.

2) I promise that even though I am a musician myself you will never hear me claim to be anything more than a moron when it comes to music (unless I don’t like you). *

3) You have my most solemn promise that I will try and work the band Popol Vuh into as many blog entries as I possibly can. Yes, I enjoy them that much.

4) I hereby promise to use this blog as a springboard for my opinions on music. This means that you won't be getting the Lord's gospel; you will be getting opinions. This means that I can listen to your record, whoever you are, and openly describe it as being shitty without fear of being accused of being a snob (unless you are overly sensitive, and egomaniacal). This also means that I will not bore you to tears by waxing philosophical for pages on end about bands I really don't give two shits about, or jerking myself off in print for the sole purpose of sounding like I am some sort of expert on all facets of any music scene. I won't be doing the latter because I don't care, at all, about being viewed as a comprehensive completist who thinks his encyclopedic knowledge of every talentless local hack that can strum an E chord deserves for me to notice, and worse, write about it. The world, hell, Houston, is filled with god-awful, interminable blogs that are replete with horrible writing about forgettable bands by people who really ought to look into another pastime for their useless creative energy (like playing Dungeons and Dragons, just like when they were kids - pre getting laid). If you give a shit, you will find out just how much I love about music, and why, and also what I think is intolerable, because ignoring what causes you pain is worse than facing it and holding it up to the light.

5) I hereby promise to see at least something in the neighborhood of at least a cool million faces, and lay before you, with my very honor, my most sincere intention to rock more than a good 75% of them all.

6) I am laying down a singular, heart wrenching promise to actually pay a mote of attention to the new Beck album. Hahahahahahaha, just kidding.

7) I promise to stop this silly promise shit and go back to listening to this bad-ass Popol Vuh compilation that Michael Harwell made for me a few years back. Seriously, the Aguirre soundtrack album absolutely slays me every time I listen to it, without exception.

* see promise number four

See you next Tuesday, bitches!

P.S. Seeing as how this is Halloween, I strongly recommend you rush to the nearest Hollywood on Montrose and Westheimer and pick up a copy of Dario Argento's Suspiria, because although it is unimaginably cheesy, it also happens to be totally fucking brilliant. And to top it off, the soundtrack by Italian prog creeps, Goblin is a classic in and of itself. Check them out on E-Bay, you won't be disappointed. And while you're there, pick up a copy of Suspiria, And if you find it's not for you, stick with the Raconteurs and Jeepers Creepers or some such shit. Happy Halloween!