Rocco's Blog 7/7/10

Bryan and myself drove three days before the full moon from Los Angeles to Portland- we stopped in Oakland and we began to document- I've been collecting stories concerning the supernatural on an A1 camera and four-track cassette deck- our version of field recordings (praise Alan Lomax for documenting the priceless treasure of the human spirit)- I'm never quite sure what to do with these materials but I have a good feeling about them-
Blind Willie Johnson has been on my mind- his voice came over the airwaves by some sudden stroke of luck and I melted in my seat- Angels running from heaven to the physical world and full moons, volcanoes in Iceland, New Orleans, all this information, I’m sorting it out, normal bias cassettes from radio shack-
I would like to thank my friends in Germany, France, Norway, Scotland and other great neighborhoods on the other side of the pond for your kind words and actions-
I will be tripping down to Austin to play a few dates in late July- I will continue to participate in a residency on Monday nights at the Saxon Pub for the month of August-

Rocco's Blog 4/7/10

in search of quality-
I've been tripping from Kingston to Oakland and a
few stops in between-
i've been collecting image of the villages, cities, and people who i have been fortunate enough to meet- blogging took a brief break because i do not carry a computer with me on my travels - only a few items which include: national, pocket knife, tape, small grab of clothes, book to read, book to write in, and the use of local talents to help document sight and sound-

i have written some words for the true kings, those who are fearless in the face of the conventional wisdom- i wanted to record where history, hope, and the drum lives- producer, engineer and friend Mark Howard aka "Dirty Howard" had done some work in Jamaica and was familiar with a talent from the area who went by the name Dizzle.
(who played along to what could be considered folk songs). The results were worth the trip alone, we felt as if we created a collision of the written word, beats from the ground, and the energy that only an eighty-year-old Duolian can create. The God's were with us-
we recorded the live sessions in seven nights- my friend and gorilla-skateboarding-film-geek Ted Newsome from "Two Headed Horse" decided to come and film the live sessions- along with our trips through Port Antonio, Kingston, and the Blue Mountains. i'm currently going through footage with Ted to let others experience the happening with us. Thank you to Mark and Daniel Lanois for there encouragement with this trip.
-when i arrived back home, as usual, i was a bit restless after having been creating music on a very focused nightly basis. i go through these cold depressions when a thing is finished. I miss the music, the laughs, the coffee, the weed, the water, the soil- i decided to strap my national to the back of my machine and take off for the East Bay for a while. i know i looked mad (with everything i own tied to the back) by the expressions on the faces of people i passed. I had never ridden that far and thought it would be something to see PCH without being in a cage- i stayed with a friend, and explored for two weeks (graffiti is alive and well), which is different from going straight to the show and leaving directly after- i came back down through the central valley which opened into big skies and great distances, so great you feel small, then smaller-

after dropping out of the commercial world i have had to be more resourceful- efficient- raw- however, i have been afforded the opportunity to live amongst those who place quality above the popular-
as a result i will be playing stripped down shows over the next couple of months until we are able to share this next record, which will take a minute to sort out how it will be shared- i've got hope in my veins- my grandma said i might be able to borrow her ride for the tour- i want to see you in your hood-
bless,
rocco

Rocco's Blog 6/21/09

Thanks for a great Tour.

Rocco's Blog 3/19/09

I was in New Orleans a couple of years ago for the eclipse. Last night
I spoke with a woman who had been there too. She explained that the
moon was her flash of hope, her only friend. They speak to each other
and count each line upon the pale skin; they paint pictures of one
another and dance to celebrate the light, the indifference of the sky,
the physical earth and all her vibrations. She explained that without
the moon her love would turn coffee black. She leaves and blesses the
bus with both hands. We drive into the desert night and it's quiet.

Rocco's Blog 1/25/09

We are approaching our last Monday night at Spaceland. I have always resonated with residencies. The act of showing up at the same hour once a week seems like an experiment in and of itself. It is refreshing to know that there is a set time to play and experiment. Even more interesting is how we create a margin for everything that takes place between two intervals. During this time I have watched the rains, the mornings, the street’s, the string’s, the sun, the formless turn into the form, the inauguration, the painting, the spotted dog that watches from me from his roof, the finishing touches of the eternally unfinished, the chicken, the fear, the moon, The cassette tape hanging from a wire, Camus, concrete, and the passionate individuals who have come to listen and play.

Rocco's Blog 12/10/08

a collision of people
with different names
enter a coffee shop
and leave the same
way they came
leadbelly, leadbelly, leadbelly

Rocco's Blog 11/5/08

A woman entered a restaurant and shouted at the top of her lungs, “DO NOT PRETEND!” the bartender escorted her out and continued to serve. I laughed because I thought she had a point. Morning came and I began my walk home only to find her words written on the wall. I snapped a photo, walked home, and listened to the amazing Samuel Barber till I fell asleep.