2007 was an amazing year for us! We've blasted through some pretty difficult psychological barriers (us vs. us) and have seemingly come through [to the other side] with more lavish, flowery ideas and loads of energy to share with you in 2008. Please accept our sincerest gratitude for supporting The GO in so many ways... we're humbly at your service, always. There's so much music out there! Here: the internet; a billion bands/groups/artists posting messages and music continuously, endlessly. Thank you for listening to what we have to say.
We make music because we love to - and record music, compulsively, because we're addicted to some kind of trembling, electric vibration that triggers a chemical overload...
you know what it is. We suffer from the same affliction.
One single note, played on a guitar, and connected through an electric current can speak volumes; say more in a millisecond than Hemingway did through his entire life. Anyone who doesn't understand that statement hasn't yet experienced the moment where electric music causes a person to trip, frozen in time. Odd, to say the least. It' abstract! Chuck Berry was an abstract dude. The sound ignites the imagination and that causes every multidimensional avenue to open instantly... certainly because the sound of an electric guitar is so urgent and commanding, I guess. Who knows?
Let's say this: It's much like a download, maybe. In a flash you've got everything. That's why it's so important to work on the electric sound representation of acoustic music. Acoustic music is only actual and literal when standing in a room with a piano and it's sound reverberates into the cochlea. Once a microphone is placed, the piano becomes electric through the microphone's circuitry. Therefore, any modern recording could be considered a mere representation or interpretation of acoustic music. Of course, that's everything!
Understanding that means a world of opportunity has been unlocked.
The importance of this realization is that, when working with microphones and recording machines, the music becomes interpretive. The mind interprets the music reverberating in the "live" room and the microphones and recording devices are the tools by which the interpretation is recreated.
When listening to a Jimi Hendrix recording, aside from technological limitations, the result can be attributed to the engineer's and producer's imaginations. They are the ones who were interpreting the sound of the Jimi Hendrix Experience and committed the abstract impression to wax. Jimi's guitar, for example, on Purple Haze most definitely did not sound like it does on the record, if one were standing in the room at the time he was recording there would be an obvious, audible difference.
This is where we unlock the infinite possibilities. I mean, it's only magick.
So, to be clear, first the spark... then, the wildfire.
Forever in a moment: We read everything. We notice everything. We respond to everything.
Martin Rev, discussing the current rock climate, said that, "Rock & Roll has become interpretive." No, it hasn't. Music has always been interpretive. For a group like Suicide, judging by their second release, I imagine the trouble being that it was unconsciously attempting to interpret itself. That, in itself, is quite literally suicide. Much like a mirror image of a mirror is madness. The songwriters should interpret their world or emotions, as the band interprets the songs, as the producers and engineers interpret the sound, as the audience interprets the art. No time to become self absorbed. Incidentally, I love Suicide's second album.
So Hemingway, I hear ya... but I got this electric vibe creepin' up my spine and it's distracting the shit outta me! It's the difference between a beautiful wild flower struggling upwards through a crack in the pavement. Oh! Morose! I stop to admire but there's suddenly a thunder-clap in the sky, and I have a tendency to look up when that happens.
Now, if that thunder-clap turned me on, got me high, inspired me, electrified me, spiritualized me, identified me, lobotomized me, equalized me, and turned me loose upon the world to terrorize the tracks with psychedelic ideas that span a lifetime...
that pretty much sums up Rock & Roll.
Interpretive?

Notice the reflection of the sea...
it's merely an interpretation of the sky,
and everything that happens in between
is captured behind my blinking eye.
What am I?

What does all of this amount to?
In a world where 99.9% of modern Rock & Roll is reduced to a meaningless past-time by over qualified critics with a constantly annoying "been there done that" attitude... it's really up to the artists to get a grip on the sound of their own recordings. Ask anyone over 40 years old and they'll tell you, "It's all about the songs." That statement, of course, is a massive misconception.
It most certainly is NOT all about the songs but IS absolutely all about the sound.
Song lyrics are constantly misinterpreted and, in my experience, the listener usually prefers their version. The musical arrangement of a rock song can go many different ways, but Peter Gabriel's Genesis will simply never out-shine The Kingsmen's Louie Louie. How strange!
I've had a lot of young artists write the website and ask different questions about recording techniques, over the past 12 months. So, this is my blog to hopefully send some inspiration out there. In 2008, let's focus on the sound of our recordings. Let's listen to our favorite records and really nail it. There's no shame in applying the same techniques as the greats!
Those engineers at EMI really knew what they were doing... and they were brilliant!
If it sounds good; it is good! Over compressed (pumping) drums are exciting!!! So what if it's considered a gimmick of the 1960s. Gimme a break! "Natural" sounding drums are boring.
Have we learned nothing from Joe Meek?! All of this technology at our fingertips and we should use it to make our music sound more normal? Not in my lifetime!
My best suggestion is this: Search eBay for the largest encyclopedia that you can buy. It will probably have every volume, A to Z, between two hard covers. I know it's a relic but I'm sure they're still out there. Okay, bid high because this is an essential studio tool! Pay attention!
During your next studio session, you may have to refer to this book several times. At the moment where your hired engineer deviates from your imaginative vision of just how colorful your sound should be, I want you to ask him why he's imposing his will upon your recording.
If, by chance, he offers any other reason besides the fact that he has temporarily taken a mis-step and is deeply saddened by the result... I'd like you to refer to the encyclopedia. Casually remove it from the inconspicuous brown satchel next to the orange, velvet easy chair. Stroll over to the mixing desk and drop it on his fingers. He will, most likely, scream and curse you right off. You mustn't back down. Whatever you do, offer no explanation what so ever.
But, maintain eye contact.
He will whimper and this will, possibly, disrupt the session, but only temporarily. This valuable ritual may be repeated as often as you deem necessary. You'll find that his shrieks and vile obscenities will subside in due time. After 12 or 13 drops of the encyclopedia, he will begin to appreciate the value of your recordings. Don't be surprised if he learns to enjoy the process.
I've actually began studio sessions, first thing in the morning, with several drops of the encyclopedia. Be careful though! You don't want it to escalade into an all night event. You'll need your REM sleep and you don't want some bucket-head engineer calling you at 4am for a quick drop. Out of the question! Let him know that YOU are the boss. Establish right off that you're very busy and sessions will begin and end at designated, scheduled times. No exceptions.
This, my friends, is an age old formula for a successful session. It's never been officially documented in any recording memoir, but I happen to know that Geoff Emerick suffered many fractured digits during the recording of Revolver. And don't get me started on those poor engineers who worked with little Stevie Wonder! Broken toes, dislocated shoulders, concussions... Don't feel too sorry for them though; they had it coming.
All for the love of Rock & Roll.


We absolutely adore your comments and ideas!
Thank you, everybody, for giving us a 2007 to remember!!
We look forward to your thoughts and sentiments in 2008.

Thanks everybody!

Love Always,
Bobby Harlow
The GO

The Go

Howl on the Haunted Beat You Ride (Cass)

By Caroline Evans
Published: August 16th, 2007

"Vintage" is an overused word in our world of nostalgic pop culture. Stripes and polka dots, which have never really gone out of style, are marketed as vintage fashions. Sparkling pop bands that are at best glorified '80s pop cover bands are marketed as having vintage sounds because they say their influences are Iggy Pop, the Kinks, or the Rolling Stones. Yet I detect little to no trace of those influences in bands like the Killers, Jet, and about half a dozen others.

This is why I get so excited about a band like the Go. While some bands like to talk about their influences, the Go actually like to sound like them. On their latest album, they maintain the music hall bravado of the Kinks with a flourish of parlor piano and sweet vocals on "Caroline" (I'm not just saying that because it's my name - it really is probably the best song on the album). They revisit the Sonics with shout-along choruses and ripping guitar strokes. Their nod at the Beatles is subtle but simple: They begin "You Go Bangin' On," the album's opening track, without an intro, on the chorus. It's an old device, but I can't remember the last time a band besides the Beatles actually used it.

You may challenge that this all might actually make the Go a glorified '60s cover band, and I have no answer to that except to say that it is much more than that. If you listen to it, you'll know what I mean. Some bands may talk a big game, but the Go really earns those vintage stripes.

LIVE on the BBC


Check out the Detroit show w/ the Queens of Noize!
Tabitha & Mairead interview The GO & spin classic Motown jams.
Live at 11:00am Saturday, Oct. 6 @
http://www.bbc.co.uk/6music/shows/queensofnoize/
Can't make it? Listen to the archive!!

Photos by
Karissa Talanian
in Boston

All of our friends were there...

Thank you, everybody, for having such a wonderful time with us last night.
We loved it so much when you were clapping along with the songs and singing with us.
Thank you for welcoming The GO home with open arms.
Our official release date for Howl On The Haunted Beat You Ride is July 24.
It will be our national or international release... I guess both.
The CD will be repackaged and some of the songs have been remixed.
What that means is: We've only pressed 1,000 copies of the current CD. If you've got it,
you have been listening to the vinyl mix. That was our gift to Detroit and those who came out to see us on the East coast.
We won't be pressing any more of those, so keep 'em on file for the archives!
The big release will be a mini Lp style package printed on 5" x 5" cardboard, with a gatefold.

We'll be releasing a children's 45 rpm Sp soon. I can't tell you much about it at the moment.
You'll just have to listen and decide whether we've lost our minds completely, or not.
If you happen to know anybody under the age of 9... tell them to invest in a turn table.

And, last but not least, we'll be taking a trip across the country in August.
We're on the road for a month with plenty of great bands including:
The Willowz The Nice Boys The Cuts Apache Thee Makeout Party The Nooses & The Coydogs

The tour begins August 2, in Milwaukee, with The Willowz

Much Love,
Bobby

Live at
The
Blind
Pig
2007



























































photos by
Amy Lampinen

LIVE at
The
Blind
Pig

























photos by Holly

photos by
Sue Dobaczewski

The Magic Stick, Detroit



































The Blowout, Hamtramck






























Magness Arena PeaceJam, Denver

The GO will guest on the Mitch Albom show (WJR 760 AM) April 19, 4:30pm -7:00pm performing a medley of your favorite songs in 30 second intervals.
The GO will perform 3 songs at the Detroit Music Awards, April 20 @ the State Theater.
The GO will perform 1 song followed by a brief interview at 8:00am on Channel 2 morning News, April 21.

That is all.

The album is still coming out. In case you were wondering. We haven't changed our minds.

Bobby Harlow
(official spokesperson, The GO, Detroit, Michigan, USA, Earth, Space)

Thank you, everybody, for coming out to the show last night! We had a blast.
The star of the show award goes out to tough little Hunter,
from the Muldoons, (http://www.myspace.com/muldoonsofficialsite)
who stood firm in the front row while being trampled and squashed for 45 minutes. Nice work!
And to Neil, from Ohio, who manages to make it out every time. Always a pleasure.
I don't think we'd have a good show without ya! Thanks pal.
Our buddy, Rich Hanson, was filming the whole ordeal and believes he has some pretty interesting stuff caught on tape... GO's Gone Wild in Hamtramck.
I'm not sure exactly how long it will take to get that video to you...
but I'm pretty certain that, if you were in the first 3 rows, you'll be in the there.
Thanks to Outrageous Cherry
(http://www.myspace.com/outrageouscherry)
and Siddhartha
(http://www.myspace.com/siddharthamusic)
for joining us and making the whole night so memorable.
And, of course, thank you to Anthony Morrow for organizing the entire event!!

We'll see you again on April 21, at the Magic Stick for the record release party!!!

Love always.

Your Friends,
Marc, John, Bobby, & Jimmy... The GO

Howl: to utter a loud, prolonged, mournful cry, as that of a dog or wolf.

Haunted: preoccupied, as with an emotion, memory, or idea; obsessed.

Beat: one's assigned or regular path or habitual round.

Ride: to appear to float in space, as a heavenly body and to continue without interruption or interference.

Howl On The Haunted Beat You Ride means...

Stand up, get up, smarten up, wake up, wise up, chin up, make up, make out, look out, look up, don't doubt, clear up, clear out, clean up, check in, free up, free yourself up, free up yourself, live up to yourself, live free, find out, find out what it's like to free yourself up to feel free to be yourself, face yourself, face the facts: you're you, be you, be careful with you, be kind to you, be who you want to be, be free, be awake, make it awake, make it out alive, liven up, make yourself up, make sense, make your mark, mark one up, sense yourself, up yourself, get your head out from up yourself, head out head first, use your head first, think loud, think big, think out, think out loud, set the tone, set the time, think in time, think out of turn, turn yourself out, set your turn out, turn the other way, way out.

Howl On The Haunted Beat You Ride means...

To live life in pursuit of the meaning of one's own personal, true nature.

Howl On The Haunted Beat You Ride means...

To experience life as you are, who you are, and with your thoughts free to be as they are.

Howl On The Haunted Beat You Ride means...

To actively participate in the world around you by offering your emotions as a sacrament.

Howl On The Haunted Beat You Ride means...

Be yourself even when the world around you is embarrassed by your behavior; remain you.

There's distortion
Down there.
It's not overloaded,
It's good,
The good stuff,
Brown and fuzzy.
The opposite.
The metamorphosis
Of what you've loved
Into everything you've
Ever wanted.
How does it feel
To have everything
You want?
Dense.

by Allen Ginsberg

El aire es oscuro, la noche es triste, miento sleepless y gimo. Nadie
cuida cuando un hombre va enojado: El esta apesadumbrado, dios esta
alegre. La sombra cambia en el hueso.

Cada sombra tiene un nombre; Cuando me pienso en el mio gemir, yo
oyen rumores de tal fama. No para el orgullo, pero solamente la
verguenza, sombra cambia en el hueso.

Cuando me ruborizo yo llorar para la alegria, y la risa cae de mi
como una piedra: La risa del envejecimiento del muchacho para ver a
los muertos eternos tan timidos. La sombra cambia en el hueso.

Detroit, MI: Heavily acclaimed rock band the Go, hailing from Detroit, doesn't seem overly concerned that their new single "Maribel" has been held hostage for over two months by militant rock terrorist Bobby Harlow. "The single won't be released until all digital instruments, recorders and effects have been destroyed," Harlow said in a prepared statement.

Calls to the musician's home have gone unreturned. Developing...

Denver, CO 1/10

We've had some requests for the setlist...
here's a rundown of the songs:

Whatcha Doin'
Growd Up Wrong
Hey Linda
American Pig
Invisible Friends
Yer Stoned Italian Cowboy
Summer's Gonna Be My Girl
Games
You Can Get High
Keep On Trash
Tired Of The Night
You Go Bangin' On
Help You Out
Hardened Heart Blues
Come Back
So Long Johnny
On The Corner
But You Don't Know
It's Only In Your Mind
Meet Me At The Movies

Thank you, everyone, for coming out.
Neil & Holly, it was nice to see both of you.
Thanks for making the trip.

Fond Regards,
Bobby

Love,

The GO: Bobby Harlow, John Krautner, Marc Fellis, & James McConnell

See you on New Years Eve!!

The upcoming Italy records release You Go Bangin' On b/w Maribel is at the pressing plant!! That means 1 month, officially, before it hits the stores. I feel as though I can finally lift my head from the full length Lp long enough to write a few thoughts down here. We're all very excited to place our new record in yer hands. It's been a long, involved process to get this little burst of sound to work for us... but it's finally coming to an end- er, beginning?
However you prefer to view it.
We've thought, as you know, about releasing a double Lp... that idea's been chucked. We're still going to do the gate-fold, heavy vinyl. I'm sure that will be available right off the bat. As it stands, the record's pretty lengthy. The reason that the double Lp was rejected is that we'd rather provide a more focused experience. Nothing to get bummed out about though; there's plenty of music on it still.

Off the subject...

Ya know what's pretty weird- Subpop's selling our new single. http://subpop.com/scripts/main/bands_page.php?id=324

What's the deal? As they say, if you live long enough...

Huh. Maybe I'll get a phone call one day...

*ring ring* (transcribed from my imagination)

BH: Uh, hello.
SP: May we speak with Bobby please.
BH: Yeah, this is Bobby.
SP: Hello Bobby, this is Subpop records. We used to be your record label.
BH: Oh yeah. Wut's up? How have you been?
SP: Fine, thanks. Just signing bands... same ole.
BH: That's nice. How's the record industry these days?
SP: Terrible.
BH: Oh. I'm sorry to hear that. Wut's on yer mind?
SP: You know that record... Free Electricity?
BH: Uh huh.
SP: Well, we love it and want to release it immediately.
BH: Yeah?
SP: Ever since Wolf Eyes won a Grammy for "best dance record of the year", we've come to realize that it's impossible to predict what people will like or dislike... you follow?
BH: Uh huh.
SP: Since it doesn't cost that much money to send a short stack out there, especially since the birth of the MP3, causing people to flush their CDs down the crapper...it just makes sense to take the risk and eat a little crow. Right?
BH: That's disgusting.
SP: After all, no sense tossing the baby out with the bathwater.
BH: What?
SP: What?
BH: What baby?
SP: Tossing the baby out...
BH: You're gonna toss a baby?
SP: No. We're not going to toss the baby.
BH: You're breaking up. Hello? I don't understand.
SP: Free Electricity is the baby.
BH: Who's baby?
SP: Your baby. The GO's baby.
BH: We haven't had any babies.
SP: That's the point. We have your baby.
BH: I'm calling the police.
SP: The baby is a metaphor for...
BH: Who is this?
SP: SUBPOP RECORDS.
BH: Let me speak to an adult.
SP: FRgE ELlCTRIpITY Iz YeUR MAmY!
BH: Stop chewing. I can't understand you.
SP: Hello?
BH: I'm here. I've got another call... hold on a minute?
SP: Ok, but...
BH: *click*
SP: ........
SP: ........
SP: ........
SP: ........ he's on the other line. I don't know. I don't know... this is a huge pain in the ass already. Have you heard the record? It's alright. It's no Whatcha Doin. No way. Jack White. No. I don't know. Ego, I'm sure. Bet they regret that every fucking...
BH: I'm back.
SP: Hey! What's up?! Great. Really good here. Ok. Cool. Um, so, Free Electricity. Yeah, we're all super psyched!
BH: Oh, good. You want it?
SP: We've already got it.
BH: Whaddya mean?
SP: You've given it to us.
BH: That's impossible. You're gonna have to pay for it.
SP: We've already paid for it.
BH: Oh really? Well, if you've already paid for it then why don't you have it?
SP: We do.
BH: Oh really? Then, wut's it sound like?
SP: It sounds crazy.
BH: ..........
SP: You there?
BH: I'm here.
SP: We just wanna move this along as fast as possible.
BH: You ever listen to Bob Pollard?
SP: Yeah, sure. So, if we...
BH: You hear that song "Strong Lion?"
SP: No, uh... well so if we get the art in...
BH: "I'm a strong lion- Uhm still tryin- the looord likes- me- that- waaay"
SP: Bobby?
BH: That blows my mind.
SP: Yeah, sounds good... so, if we...
BH: What have you guys got on yer label these days?
SP: Oh! Well, let's see... there's Smelly Fingers, Sexpot Lotto, Dark Chasm, Infinite Pussy, The Snitch Bitches, Devils Haircut, The New Teenagers, Please Don't Make Me Be A Rockstar, The Trout Mask Replicas, U.S.O.f.T.U.M.Z. LLc. Inc., Jupiter Horse, Skunk Monkey, and Jaricho Fitch... just to name a few. You guys would be able to open for any one of those bands. They all really dig The GO.
They love your authentic, retro sound.
BH: I gotta check with the guys on that one.
SP: Great. So it's a deal?
BH: Sounds ok to me. Hey, so how soon can we get the vinyl out?
SP: ........
BH: Hello?
SP: ........
BH: Hello?

*click*

Crap.

I just woke up so bare with me. I'm chuggin some coffee and thinking about that goofy lil song. Here's the deal: There's a funny story that goes with Yer Stoned Italian Cowboy (YSIC, let's call it).
I have friends... Yes, it's unbelievable- ho ho... I have friends who are of Italian descent. So, ragging out an Italian protagonist causes me a bit of anxiety. I feel as though I ought to explain. The narrator in YSIC, of course, is me because it's my story and I can cry if I want to. There's the naughty little girl who broke my heart... really just nicked it or I wouldn't have such a sense of humor about it. And then there's the "stoned cowboy" who seems to wave his magic wand and all hell breaks loose. At a glance- there you have it.

The true story behind the song is:
I was involved in a relationship with a young English girl, a few years back. She was quite fond of X. First off, I don't recommend dating anybody, seriously, who takes X on a regular basis. For the record, I do not take drugs but I did try it once... walls vibrated, spine slipped out from under me, sweat burst from every pore, and my nose fell off. It was a weird experience. Too much maybe.
We, the girl and I, were having a great time together over there in London. I was only able to visit her for short periods as I have to live in Detroit or my hair falls out and I turn into a goblin. This circumstance did not make for a very healthy relationship because, as a very close friend of mine put it, "Proximity is everything." Right.
Upon my arrival to London Heathrow, one sunny morning, I was greeted by my hearts desire but with less outward affection than I had anticipated. I fancied myself a perceptive lad and instantly began keeping mental notes on the slight and varied changes in my loves behavior. It's best if you imagine this story is being read to you by Peter O'Toole.
Obviously, the first question out of my mouth is, "What's wrong?" To be followed by a steady stream of careful prodding... you know the drill. Much like opening a letter that's addressed to somebody else; use the blade wisely - pry at the glue gently - just a peek at the information - don't tear it wide open or you'll be emotionally responsible for whatever the fuck's in there.
Sprawled out in the back of a cab, on the way to her flat, apparently "nothing's wrong" and she's "very happy to see me."

Later that evening...
The sun's gone down, my suitcase is overflowing and on the floor, I'm against the wall across the bed, she's at the foot smoking. Perfect time for an impact.
I lead in with the heavy interrogation, full on and without mercy. To the point- what's the deal- I can tell- what's up- all day- I've noticed- out with it- I'm not stupid- then and now- your tone- eye contact- it's different- blah blah.

She cracks immediately.

Turns out, she tells me, that she went to Italy for a week. Ah ha! One night, while partying (of course), she met this boy and he, she, he, she, he, she, they slept together. Fuck!
I was furious!! Well, that, mixed with a dash of disdain and just a pinch of delight at the fact that I knew it all along.
So, the night went on with her room-mates covering their heads with pillows, I'm guessing, as we screamed at each other for a good 2 hours or so.

I had the floor... one of those rare opportunities to ask all inappropriate questions and actually get real answers. So...

"Did you enjoy him more than me?!"

Ack!! I know. Worst question in the world. Nobody wants the answer to that one.
Nobody deserves the answer to that one.
After the shock, emotional uproar, and unnecessarily extended session of recreational name calling... I believe "lesbian" was the last dagger thrown, which made no sense at all but did serve as a bit of comic relief as I packed my suitcase, slammed the bedroom door, and marched straight down the stairs and through the front door, into the street... where am I going?
There I was, London, alone, the middle of the night, and blood boiling without anywhere to cool off. Shit.
Back through the door, up the stairs, quietly, down the hall, to the right, into the bedroom, suitcase overflowing and on the floor, I lay back against the wall across the bed, she's at the foot smoking. Perfect time to re-evaluate the situation, rationally.
I explained why I was so angry. Not because she had performed some physical act with somebody else, but because of the emotional stress that she had caused herself and had taken time away from our fleeting romance. "There's just not enough time for this", I told her, affectionately. She looked at me, relieved, lovingly. There was a wonderful lull in the room and quiet. I realized that we could discuss this, together, and it wasn't as bad as my stomach made it seem. Think about it. Two people who enjoy each other should cherish their time together and not waste it with confusion and selfish pride. Ah, what a relief it is.

We continued from where we left off, before I had walked out earlier. We talked about Italy and how beautiful Naples is when the city's lit by the street lanterns and the view from the shore line at night would cause any romantic to swoon with delight. I expressed my understanding and told her that he must have been a very handsome, sophisticated man, well dressed and very charming. I understood, we were friends, and I could actually feel happiness for her to have such a surreal experience in a place with astonishing, ancient architecture... I could imagine feeling swept away by the atmosphere of the moment as if a dream or a long lost memory had returned and completely come to life at her command.
I wanted to know who this man was. Was he tall? Short or long hair? Did he have a good laugh? I'm certain that we would have much in common if we were to meet under different circumstances. I was curious. I even admired him. Why? I'll tell you... for his poise, his elegance. He was a distinguished gentleman and by no means would I embarrass myself any further by acting like a spoiled child. I felt ashamed. I was in the presence of a man who deserved my respect.
This was clearly not the time for folly, my friends.
I asked her if he spoke English well. She told me that he did indeed speak English. I wasn't surprised; he was obviously an educated man. I asked her from what part of Italy were his origins? She told me that he wasn't Italian...........

Huh? What was that?

"No, he wasn't Italian... he was a boy I met at a party during fashion week."

Oh, really? A boy. Fashion week? A party? Not the romantic italian gentleman I...

My blood pressure began rising to dangerously extreme levels. I could feel it.

"YOU mean to tell ME," I began "THAT you slept with someBODY wHILe YOU wERe IN ITALY AND HE WASN'T EVEN ITALIAN?!" SONOFABITCH!!!!!!!!

The room turned red, smoke poured from the floorboards, the ceiling caved in, the computer exploded, the bed began weeping, the chairs ran for their lives, the rug rolled into the closet, the lights were screaming, my teeth fell out, my pants fell off, the hindenburg crashed through the window, King Kong ate Fay Wray, icicles formed upside down from the gutters, God passed gas, trains derailed, mercury hit the roof, a dog spoke, Lincoln opened his eyes, clouds fell from the sky, mountains fainted, the oceans perspired, the hills gangbanged the valley, my mind errupted in a fever of obscenity!

INSULT TO INJURY!!!!
SONOFABITCH!!!!
WHAT A SCHMUCK I AM!!!!
I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!!!!
NOT ITALIAN!!!!
ARE YOU RETARDED?!!!
HOW COULD I BE SUCH A FOOL?!!!
INSUBORDINATION!!!!
YOU DO NOT
DO NICE THINGS!!!!
PRICK!!!!
CURSES!!!!
SAVAGE ASSHOLE!!!!
JERK!!!!

After the apocalypse we had a good laugh.

Cultivate the ability to see the ridiculous.

In the morning I opened my eyes. She was at her computer and I lit a cigarette in bed. I thought to myself, I could either walk out the door and never speak to her again or forgive her for hurting my feelings and just enjoy her.

Smoke spiraled through the sunbeams by the window pane. It looked like Christmas.

Yer Stoned Italian Cowboy

Yer stoned Italian cowboy he's a hustler in the dark
Buggerin the beauties promenading past the park
His ostrich buckle bucklin he's a dart mouth eye a puckerin
Layin every claim from Santiago to Madrid
Look out for his aim he shoots directly from the Id

Yer stoned Italian cowboy ate yer English up for lunch
Howlin at the moon his silver saddle on yer hunch
His chewin gum stuck in yer hair your sequin gown worn everywhere
Baby don't believe the things you read into his eyes
Darker than the sea there lies the depth of your demise

When you were my girl we were in love everyday
We were in love - You were my girl in every way

Yer stoned Italian cowboy conjures every wicked thought
Alone upon his throne it is well known he can't be caught
Your silky hair your creamy thighs a button nose your dreamy eyes
Steppin like a raindrop at your gates your Gunga Din
Wrappin at your window cause he knows you'll let him in

-Bobby Harlow

Celebrate the New year with The GO at the Painted Lady in Hamtramck. You may purchase tickets, in advance, online through the PL... http://www.myspace.com/paintedlady
For those who don't know what the venue is like... it's very small.
This will be an intimate engagement, to say the least.

We'll be performing several songs off of the new record (bit of a sneak preview) as well as some old favorites.
The Painted Lady will stay open until 4am.

Josh Daniels and The Addictions will open the show around 10:00.
http://www.myspace.com/jdanielsmusic

Miss Alex White & The Red Orchestra are performing around 11:00. One of our absolute favorite bands!!
http://www.myspace.com/missalexwhitetheredorchestra

The GO should be on around 12:30.
http://www.myspace.com/thegodetroit


No pushing!!

Here are a couple of illustrations that have been sent over to The GO compound.

Projected release for the new LP is February-March (cross yer fingers).
At the moment we're mixing it, arranging the tracks, editing & losing our hair at a rapid pace. It's a massive fallout down here in the bunker!

We've got plans to shoot the cover art tomorrow.

Another 45 rpm record should be available next month on Italy records.
In the meantime, you can check with our myspace page:
http://www.myspace.com/thegodetroit
and get the latest word, review, comment/kudo, and photo from our faithful GO fans around the world. Thanks everybody for the wonderful comments and occasional banter... very funny stuff. Very good.

Well, I've got to squash an acoustic guitar or 2 in order for the album version of Invisible Friends to swing like the Banana Splits... suppose I should get back to work.

Much love always!
Bobby Harlow

7" 45 rpm record

Invisible Friends
b/w
Yer Stoned Italian Cowboy

For sale @ cassrecords.com mangiati il fegato!!

Hey Folks,

The new GO single will be available, on Detroits own CASS Records, very soon. According to Ben Blackwell (founding father of CASS, head of A&R, president, VP, VIP & generally swell guy) the single, Invisible Friends b/w Yer Stoned Italian Cowboy, is 2 weeks away from our hands to yours. You can spend your bread on our wax at the latest GO concert events, newly posted in our tour dates section, as well as the CASS website... www.cassrecords.com

Low and behold... Italy records is back in business!!! David Dunbar Buick has officially returned from cloud nine to resurrect the record label that introduced you to the music of The White Stripes, The Clone Defects, The Dirtys, Whirlwind Heat... and other hot bands including The Hentchmen, Rocket 455, The Greenhornes, & The Fells.
What's next?
The GO! The GO! The GO!
You Go Bangin' On b/w Maribel
is set for release
NEXT MONTH!!!

Look out!

Fond regards,
Bobby Harlow
8/31/06

Jimi Hendrix, Jimmy Stewart, and The Marx Bros. should be of some help to those living in Sweden as well.

We're nearly through February and it's been a long, cold, grey month in Michigan. I've been battling periodic episodes of depression. It is a must that we keep productive. What do I recommend you ask? Jimi Hendrix at top volume... listen to Foxy Lady four or five times in a row, daily. Jimmy Stewart movies instill a sense of well being... start with It's A Wonderful Life, The Glen Miller Story, and Harvey then work your way through the rest. Rent every Marx Bros. film from your neighborhood library and watch them in bed before you fall asleep. Also, load up on the vitamin B, eat breakfast, and open your windows every chance you get. Avoid television programming and definitely the local news broadcasts (at all costs). Remain in this beautiful bubble until Spring. When the sun melts the ice and the flowers begin to bloom you may resume your assult on all things anti-cultural and return to a life of ordinary madness. That's my plan.

Fond regards,
Bobby

Just finishing John Krautner's fantastic song Invisible Friends. I believe this is going to be a double album. We've been discussing it for a while now. Marc Fellis votes "at least 14 songs." James McConnell says, "Release everything." John and I agree that there is enough engaging content to explore the possibilities of a 2 disc CD release and 4 sided, gate-fold vinyl. -b

Here's the list of upcoming releases about to go into the final stages of production and onto the shelves...

Follow You Home b/w Girl Named Sandoz for 7" release

Mercurial Girl b/w Smile for 7" release

Arterial Angel b/w Blood Jumps In The Sun for 7" release

You Go Bangin' On b/w Maribel for 7" release

The GO- Howl On The Haunted Beat You Ride Lp

1. It's Only In Your Mind
2. Find Me A Feeling
3. Mercurial Girl
4. You Go Bangin' On
5. So Long Johnny
6. Down A Spiral
7. She's Prettiest When She Cries
8. Your Stoned Italian Cowboy
9. Our Love's Alive
10.Howl On The Haunted Beat You Ride
11."Untitled"
12.Remain Lovely

I just wanted to check in. I'm very busy with this album at the moment... trying to wrap it up by next month!!!
Thank you, everyone, for sharing your kind sentiments on Myspace!! I really, deeply appreciate your support waaaay beyond anything I could express here. We've honestly dropped off the face of the planet for about 1 year now!!! The results are nearly ready to be delivered. We're all looking forward to your reactions. I hope you have the patience to sit through the 13 minute (!!!) 'Down A Spiral'... that's a laugh cause I know you do. How do I know? Cause I want to hear a 13 minute song. We've all got similar tastes in music. I haven't had much of an opportunity to check out Myspace, in full effect. My computer won't allow the images to load. The other day, I cruised on over to Johnny's house and, for the first time, had a real good look at what's going on over there in cyberville. 100% fantastic work!!!!!! I was immediately blown away by the creative overload that is Myspace. It just goes to show... we're all artists! People from all over the world communicating and sharing ideas, music, visuals, poetry... outstanding! Keep up the great work! That little community you've got going there seems to be pretty important. I'm proud that we're a part of it.

Much love,
Bobby

I wish all of you the best, my love and respect. Let's look forward to a new year where we will overcome and conquer our fears, to establish understanding, and let the connection between us become stronger. The world is not as large as it may seem at times. Let's make a resolution to move much closer to each other and to relate as often as possible on an emotional level. Have fun tonight! Let's regroup in 2006 to be as creative as humanly possible!!!! Humanly possible? Where are the limitations? There aren't any!!! It's fucking amazing!!!!!! Your love, empathy, imagination, creativity, and intellect... all are infinite! Concentrate on that and I'll do the same.

Your faithful comrade,
Bobby Harlow

"If the possibility of the spiritual development of all individuals is to be secured, a second kind of outward freedom is necessary. The development of science and of the creative activities of the spirit in general requires still another kind of freedom, which may be characterized as inward freedom. It is this freedom of the spirit which consists of the interdependence of thought from the restrictions of authoritarian and social prejudices as well as from unphilosophical routinizing and habit in general. This inward freedom is an infrequent gift of nature and a worthy object for the individual." -Albert Einstein

The purpose in life, then, is not the gratifying of appetites nor of any selfish desires, but it is that the entity, the soul, may make the earth, where the entity finds its consciousness, a better place in which to live. -Edgar Cayce

I just had a second look at the film A Brief History of Time. My only question is, "Stephen, why ya gotta act so messed up toward me?" Whaddya mean I'm gonna turn into spaghetti? Ah, the humanity! My impending upheaval at the hands of my favorite food! Is there no order to this universe???!!!!!

Way back when... sometime in 1997/98 we had to think of a name for the band. The prefix seemed like a good way to go considering that the mass market was overwhelmed with one offs i.e., Sponge, Godsmack, Blur, Oasis... you get the picture. Marc had this jazz record which featured the band on the cover. The drummer had the word "GO" fixed on his bass drum. We thought that was exciting looking. Our music, at that time, was really all over the place. There were 3 minute pop tunes and 12 minute anthems. Essentially, we wanted a name that would lend itself well to a band with too many ideas happening all at once. The name The GO would give people the immediate impression that we would adhere to the principals of classic Rock & Roll... still would give us the ambiguity to experiment in broad terms without feeling as though we were betraying some kind of pretentious identity. Rather non descript yet still positive in its exclamation and seems to appropriately suggest a move forward. Pretty nifty eh? Sadly, some people simply don't consider the name clever enough and would rather their friends catch them with a Joy Division record spinning on the turntable... if you look further down the page, I think that Lennon and Bangs had something to say about bullshit Rock intellectualism. Can't say too much though, I like Joy Division.
Then, there's OK GO and The GO... TEAM! This occasionally pisses me off. And the fact that the name is impossible to find on the internet doesn't help. But it's ours... we actually own it. Wanna buy it? Fifty bucks. Five bucks to look at it.
Tell ya the truth, I've always been proud to announce "We're The GO from Detroit!" Seems to get a pretty fair reaction.

We have a page over there at "my space"... http://www.myspace.com/thegodetroit
I've noticed that somebody posted a comment directly to me, which is nice, but I didn't set it up. It's all Johnny on that one. He's the man responsible for posting new 'GO' songs on the internet. If I were in charge, I'd let The GO slide into obscurity on accident. I'm really excited about the drums on She's Prettiest When She Cries. Marc showed up last night, after work, and played for hours. That's the last time I save the drum track for the final overdub! What a hassle!! At some point I walked in on him and said, "Are you stoned?" He asked why and I told him he looked weird. I said, "Why do we like those particular drum fills?" He said, "Which ones?" Then, he bounced around the set ba-boom-boom-boom-ba-boom... "Cause we've got Nick Mason and Ringo embedded in our brains." My Girlfriend looks like Brigitte Bardot.

Merry holidays and happy crimbo to everybody! Go 'head and stroll yer lil self over to the music section and download a copy of our album Supercuts. We appreciate you every bit as much as you appreciate us... and that's final! Now we've proved it and can get back to our nasty lil elvish selves. How to download? Click the word "download." Seems obvious? It took me a minute to figure it out... I'm a bit slow sometimes.

xo -b

I used to be afraid of death as well. I can't say that I look forward to dying but, I dunno, becoming something else seems pretty necessary to me. I'm no expert on the subject (Death? No. Nihilism... yeah, I'm an expert on death.) but, I've read a great deal about Nihilism and have forgotten more than I've retained... that said, they got a bad rap early on and have been pigeon holed in fascism ever since... which is a bummer because there are plenty of people who are conducting themselves through life in a positive Nihilist manner and don't even know it. If you believe in rebirth from the ashes, you may be a Nihilist... doesn't mean you have to conquer Europe. In fact, I know one person who has conquered Europe and he's a fascist... not a Nihilist. Had he been a Nihilist, maybe something positive would have come from his rise to power rather than a constant stream of negative energy and bullshit propaganda (btw, I'm not referring to Hitler... in case you were wondering). Existentialists believe in the random, godless universe... where as, you can consider yourself a Nihilist and still believe in god. Want to know more? Talk to a friend of mine at www.counterorder.com, ask for Freydis. Tell 'em Bobby "the cod" sent ya... password a rutabaga. In my opinion, even the tiniest belief in an ounce of god could keep a person from conducting themselves in some sick mercenary fashion and stick to a higher calling. Like what? Well... this is my blog (no blog, I don't like that term, journal). This is my journal so, I'll use my own situation as an example. After all, I'm certainly not in touch with whatever anybody else is doing with their lives and wouldn't begin to contemplate my meaning in the mess that is citizen joe these days. Q: How much money do you require? A: All of it. Exactly that. Not a penny less than all of the money in the entire world. That seems greedy doesn't it? Ask me how much money do I require to record an album? Again, all of it. What if I were offered nothing at all? I'd take it. That's my point. Wha?
Money has nothing to do with music at all. Money has nothing to do with that thing, you know, whatever it is that stands over your head, in the distance, over the right shoulder, gives you tips from time to time, inspiration is it? Sometimes tells you to throw a song out of phase. Call it whatever makes you comfortable. You can't buy it. Your money is no good here.
What about popularity, acceptance? Right? What we (or some of us average people) so desperately desire in our tender, formative years... my skull's still forming. I'm tender. Keeps me young. That desire to be accepted by a crowd is a strange thing. I was watching Welcome To The Doll House last night and Ghost World the night before. I wonder when it was, exactly, that I began rooting for the weirdos. I've seen the movie Crumb at least 10 times. I went through a phase (out of phase... that's really fucking bugging me now) where I watched it every night before bed. When did R. Crumb become my absurd hero? Or is it really Charles who I identify with? Or, perhaps Maxon? E-gawds? Is that me? Or mother octopus guarding her nest behind the thin veil of allegory. Yipes! Turn it off before I turn into a moonie!
I can only imagine the day when my son returns home from another difficult exercise in maladjustment, courtesy of your friendly neighborhood public school system. "Dad", he sighs and kicks a rock across the drive, "Billy Mahoney said you were a wannabe... then he rubbed his peanut butter and jelly sandwich in my hair and pushed me into the bushes." I pull the pipe from under my moustache and pressure the steak, causing the blood to drown the glowing coals in purple goo. Black smoke rises from the grill into a thunder clap above the clouds... "Son, Billy Mahoney is the bastard child of a hooker who didn't believe in the Beatles... you tell that 7 year old smart ass I said so."
I'm not going to have children any time soon. But don't think I haven't noticed that a pretty fair amount of young people are subscribing to the religion of the detached. Don't get me wrong, I've committed some kind of emotional crime against myself almost every day of my life but, Paris Hilton?! Even my pedestrian fringe friends think she's a poor role model. John Lennon said that he didn't believe in Beatles. He also said that, concerning revolution, you can count him out or in. So, he didn't know what he was talking about some of the time. Isn't that a comforting thought? Allen Ginsberg once said, "I contradict... I am large... I have multitudes." I love that. He's right. We all have multitudes. We're uncertain by nature. I once asked Nic Turner (Hawkwind) what he thought was under the Sphinx... he told me, "Secrets." Edgar Cayce (famous clairvoyant) said nearly the same thing. Cayce also believed that every human being possessed the same psychic abilities. There's so much that we don't understand yet. Doesn't it just fry your bananas when people seem so self assured?!! I mean, c'mon c'mon... is it good to be beautiful? No... yes... who knows?! Who cares?! You were born into the world with the face of a Pomeranian (that's the dog, not the people)... if you've got one good eye, use it!
Here I am, working on an album... I think it's the greatest thing since sliced cheese. It's quite possible that it just plain stinks. Kennedy was a good man... or not. Maybe Kennedy was secretly planning on rounding up every mother's son for extermination. I dunno. So, spiraling off into paranoia... what works? What can we count on? Rely on? Definitely change. The ability to change our minds in order to accommodate newly developed theories is an incredible opportunity for emotional advancement. Dontcha think? Dontcha hate it when people say that? Of course I think, asshole. In fact, I think 24 hours a day! I can't get any sleep cause my brain's got tigers chasing me in my dreams! I'm working out equations that don't even make sense. What would I do if I won the lottery? I'd fund an excavation of the Sphinx... and throw a pizza party while Captain Kangaroo labatomizes my mind. That's what's so fantastic about being human, in my opinion, we have interests to paint an ashtray pink, read the comics straight faced, and split the atom in our pajamas. A close friend of mine asked me, "I've been trying to get these Queen vocal harmonies going but there seems to be an element missing... what should I do?" I told him that he should copy their harmonies exactly note for note. I told him that he doesn't have Freddie Mercury's voice, so there's no way he'll sound anything like Queen... therefore, actually offering something potentially new. And, what's wrong with a little more Queen injected in our culture?! This "I've seen it all before" attitude is terribly counter productive. Ya must know that we haven't yet grown out of the Rolling Stones. They're selling out football stadiums! Those guys are getting a bit long in the tooth though. Wouldn't it be a shame if the constant push forward landed us all in a world where the people would discard an album like Beggars Banquet simply because it sounds familiar? What doesn't? It's in the magic of production and atmosphere. The Italians have a word for it. Chiaroscuro. Ya gotta roll the tongue. The amazing depth in renaissance painting. It's where the light and shadows are drawn, and the painting always changes before your eyes because the tones are incredibly rich and subtle. It lends itself well to our imaginations so that we may reinterpret its majesty endlessly. But, think of a subject... a bowl of fruit. How about a boy bitten by a lizard? Is that genius? You tell me. I'm just trying to do this jigsaw puzzle. I think it's very funny, in the movie Original Kings of Comedy, when Steve Harvey says, "What ever happened to love?" If you ask me, that sentiment never gets old and tired. How many times in your life have you fallen in love? It always feels like the first time... didn't Foreigner say that? What's with this love thing? It's like everybody's addicted to this ancient concept. We are indeed. I would rather listen to a love song than a hate song. Who listens to hate songs? Kids do. Why do kids listen to hate songs? Because they're confused. Because the world is constricting. Because information is often misleading. Why is Paris Hilton a role model? Because it's easier to shut your senses down and breeze through life without meaning. The only problem is (actually, obviously one of many) most kids aren't going to inherit millions of bucks. Eventually reality steps up and time sets its maggots on your trail (I lifted that). Who are our alternative role models we wonder? For the positive? I saw a documentary where somebody was talking about the 60s and mentioned people’s dedication to Jimi Hendrix as a revolutionary figure to end war. The guy said something to the extent of, "Certainly we wouldn't look to a magician to solve the world’s trouble... why then would we expect a guitar player to change our society?" Good point... except for the fact that musicians, like Hendrix, are revolutionary in the sense of the senses 5 and somehow beyond... without the smoke and mirrors. Passionate, dedicated, visionary artists stroll beyond what seem to be the possibilities and have a knack for revealing what was never thought intellectually reasonable. Every time we drift further than the set parameters, our collective imagination grows, and an angel gets a hard-on. Or, something like that. That's why we, the musicians, the physicians, the scientists (hail Atlantis! Donovan was in town. I missed him.) are vital... because we're pushing the culture toward love rather than hate. We're opening the discussion on confusion in order to relate. So somebody thinks I'm sappy... I still care. I'm ugly... I still love. I'm a bully... I'm afraid. I'm a nerd... I like the Three Stooges. I'm sad... I want to be happy. I sing... I'm alive. I want your protection... I want to protect you. I'm lonely... you make me laugh. You're lonely... I make you laugh. I'm afraid of dying... I'm human. There is no other world that we know yet... I'm giving this one all I've got (at the moment) for better or worse. All of these things relate and ought to be expressed as often as possible. And it's not about money because there's no money to be had that won't just as easily disappear on you when you're not looking. So, why not? Tap into the invisible resource and redefine art for an entire civilization of future cynics. Anything's possible. Are their alien bases under ground? Sure. Is there a heaven and hell. Yeah. Does God exist? Yes. Does satan exist? Yes. Are their parallel dimensions? Yes.
After I finish this cute little rant do you think I'm going to slip into a dark psychological place? No way. I'm going to mix She's Prettiest When She Cries and eat a huge bowl of Indian food. If I think of anything remotely entertaining, I'll chime back in with the latest weather report from the smoky bunker that is my imagination. Until then, good night sweet prince... may flights of angels swing thee from their enormous breasts!!!
Sorry about this one, it's completely incoherent. I must be wound up or something. There's a few nice sentiments scattered about though. Dontcha think?

Just spent the better part of 4 hours in an overdub session with Marc and his drums. The song's called She's Prettiest When She Cries and it sounds peculiar, to say the least. Earlier today, I had decided that the bass guitar (recorded yesterday + night) wasn't the guiding light but rather the sour culprit, fouling my beautiful song. I played another round of "tune the strings between the vibrations" and began to mix. As I layered the reverbs under the vocal tracks, I heard a tiny whisper over my shoulder telling me to throw the entire song out of phase. No, I thought against it. Immediately following that brief episode I threw the entire song out of phase. Why, I wonder. It's sad and horrible. My will is not my own... or is it? I can see the end of the rainbow... the final steps toward the result have been laid, that path to glory... but not a glorious path, rather, miserable and confusing. This record isn't a masterpiece... it's a stupid animal that froths and snaps at me. When this thing hits the market I'm doomed. Goodbye playboy mansion; hello mountains of shit, unearthed and heaped upon my conscience forever. This is not Rock & Roll music... it's my own personal melodrama played out with a rhythm section. And it's almost finished. And I'm doomed. At least I got the drums to actually sound like Ginger Baker. I mean, rest assured, this sounds like a classic album... even if it causes you to bite your own head off. It's quite possible that, at the end of the day, I'll listen to the finished record and slip into a trembling trance where I stare my own mirrored image in the balls and fall, fractured, into a strawberry coma. It's all very ugly to me right now. Coming soon to a bad acid trip near you...

Getting quite a few e-mails lately. Here's the status...
Basic tracks have been recorded for So Long Johnny, Howl On The Haunted Beat You Ride, & Tomorrow. Nearly finished tracks include She's Prettiest When She Cries, Down A Spiral, & Our Love's Alive. Now, keep in mind that it really doesn't take too long to record the songs and nail down the performances. My feeling is that the album should be wrapped up by the end of winter in order to be made available by early spring, so we'll all be able to enjoy this record through the summer.
Also, know that there hasn't been a real decision made as to exactly how this album will be presented i.e., The GO 'Howl On The Haunted Beat You Ride', Bobby Harlow 'Howl On The Haunted Beat You Ride', (some new band name) 'Howl On The Haunted Beat You Ride'... alternate title 'Our Love's Alive'... kinda nice, get it? Maybe our love needs to be pronounced "alive." After all, with all the "alternatives to love" and so forth, we should perhaps make a point of becoming more conscious of some wonderful, romantic vision before America fucking sinks like Atlantis.
Maybe not... I dunno.
Anyway, there are 3 official 'GO' songs finished and ready to be release on 45 rpm record... You Go Bangin' On, Maribel, & Mercurial Girl.
We have just submitted another original song called Knock Knock Banana! for a local children's comp. So, we've been busy.
I've spent the past year learning how to work these crazy electronic devices and locking down a sound that's sure to represent the mood in mode. Now that I've got a firm grip on the knobs, I guess the sky's the limit really.
Oh yeah, one more thing... we're gonna post downloads... yeah, yeah, yeah heard that one before. This time I'm serious. We'll get into the habit and try to keep it interesting. This time before the holiday... I swear!

Kind regards,
Bobby

And I play in a band called The GO. Some people call me Bobby. I've got all types of ideas in my head concerning music, culture, rock music culture, artistic expression, and all things that relate to. I used to be frightened of outer space (and inner). Once, I thought about gravity and I was upset for 6 months. At that time, I was also thinking about my own brain and how it functions with levels of chemicals that doctors can't seem to get a grip on. I was paralized with fear for another 6 months. I grew up in middle class, suburban America, surrounded by white people. My 3 best friends were Asian, wasp, and Jamaican/Canadian. I am the typical European blend of French, English, Italian, German, and Prussian flavors ie., another wasp. 4 generations of my family have lived in Michigan, starting with Detroit and slowly branching into the suburbs. My grandfather was a successful visual artist who worked for GM, sketching autos, during the 1950s & early 60s. He became obsessed with horses, went nuts and tattoo'd himself from head to toe, concluding with an image of Jesus Christ on his forehead... then disappeared. My grandmother was working class, supporting 2 children, alone, and managed to keep her heart strong despite 3 deaths by pump faliure on her side of the blood line. I used to have 2 parents but they are both gone. My earliest memory of music is of Jimi Hendrix & The Beatles. My first musical instrument was the drums at 7. I aquired my first electric guitar at 14. I aquired my first bass guitar at 15. I wrote my first song at 16. I started my first group at 17 (also played my first show). I purchased my first recording machine at 18 and began to write songs with more focus. Age 20 - 23 I was shut away, in an upper flat, with panic disorder... which helped fine tune my ears for recording and sharpened my skills as a songwriter. At 23 I met Marc & John and decided to begin recording with them. We named the band The GO and ventured into the Detroit rock & roll scene. Many people have been involved with The GO... Matt Hatch, Marco Delicato, Dave Buick, Jack White, Matthew Smith, Steve Nawara, Anthony Selph, Dion Fischer, Danny Methric, James McConnell, Carey Loren, John Olsen, Scott Micholski, Chris Fachini, Kenny Tudrick, and a few others. I am currently recording producing an album called Howl On The Haunted Beat You Ride.

That's my story so far... pretty boring.

I don't know... I heard something that made the hairs on the back of my kneck stand on end. Can't tell ya right off. Will let ya in as soon as the confirmation comes through. In the meantime... here's a hint...

1. John's "fucking hell" after playing the wrong chord in 'Hey Jude' at 2:58
2. Paul's drum beat in 'Dear Prudence'
3. John's bass line in 'Rocky Raccoon'
4. The weird 'Strawberry Fields' edit at 0:59 (left speaker)
5. Paul's guitar solo in 'Taxman'
6. George's bass line for 'Hey Jude'
7. Another weird edit for 'Revolution' during the word "Head" (left speaker)
8. What seems to be a degenerating tape issue causing 'Savoy Truffle' to warp out and then kick in at... I don't have the record in front of me... listen closely to the left speaker during the first verse
9. John's overloaded scream before the Wagner-ish vamp during 'I Want You', clearly distorting on accident
10. 'Day Tripper', 2:33, right speaker, the guitar drops out

When I began recording and producing this album... I was a bit uptight about the sound quality. I thought, "Oh shit, I've been given the opportunity to make this thing fantastic and I've got to make certain that it doesn't sound amateurish."
After working for a few weeks, I brought a copy of my recordings with me while I drove around town. After listening to a few mixes I tossed 'Abbey Road' into the CD player. Figuring that it was The Beatles most technically advanced recording, I thought I'd compare the two for fidelity's sake. Much to my surprise, The Beatles sounded as though they'd recorded in a wind tunnel compared to my virtual vacuum of an engineering job.
It occurred to me that I had never paid much attention to the quality of Beatle recordings... only listened to the words and music. I can remember the day (many years ago) when I made myself a mix tape with 'Rubber Soul' on side A and The Rolling Stones 'Let It Bleed' on the flip. When the tape did flip from A to B, the Stones sounded like a badly beaten demo compared to the quality of 'Rubber Soul.'
I suppose my point is, with technology today... we can make records that sound every bit as warm and bright and clear as any Beatle recording (and beyond) right in the comforts of our own living rooms. To my ears, the state of modern Rock & Roll in the past 20 years has been relatively lifeless and crummy. Why don't you buy your own studio and record your band exactly the way you want it to sound? It's not too expensive. The most difficult task is bringing the sounds to life... that also happens to be the most fun. If you think 'JET' sucks and you wish bands like that would go away... do something about it. Make an album that's superior. It's in your hands. When you make a recording, listen back, and if it's not as atmospheric as Led Zeppelin’s 'No Quarter'... you've failed. Try it again. Those guys were NOT angels sent from heaven to deliver music to the underprivileged children of god. The Beatles were NOT offspring from an advanced alien race sent to earth to deliver us all from the 1950s. Chuck Berry was NOT a genius... neither are you... see, you've got something in common. Keith Richards is not a superman... he's a nasty drunken goofball ex-junkie that plays the guitar. Glamorous? I don't think so. Phil Spector was brilliant... so are you... now go write the next 'To Know Him Is To Love Him' and don't come out of your room until the bridge gives your mother goose-bumps.
That's your home work.
I've got to get back to the album... good luck. -b

1. Walking in the Wind
2. The Low Spark of High-Heeled Boys
3. Presence of the Lord
4. Cryin' To Be Heard
5. Dear Mr. Fantasy
6. Shanghai Noodle Factory
7. Paper Sun
8. Heaven Is In Your Mind
9. Freedom Rider
10. Every Mothers Son

Why is our album taking so long to record? Because it sounds ridiculously good and we're having a great time noodling around with it. Plus, we figure that, the longer we wait to release this album... you'll be so fed up with the lousy music that you've been listening to... our album will, by default, sound like Sgt. Pepper. Genius, yes? No?
While your clawing your own eyes out, biting your fingers off, and bashing your head against the wall, in truly tormented despair, anticipating this glorious album that we're recording... you should entertain yourself by searching out the songs listed above and briefly allow yourself to experience a 'Traffic' phase until you're able to find comfort in knowing that another 'GO' production is spinning on yer turn-table.

Just so you know... Saturday night, John and I have agreed to guest on WKRK 97.1FM from 8-11pm. We'll be DJ-ing some of our favorite jams as well as debuting new GO songs. Tune in, turn on, drop dead for all we care... it's your life (har har, just joking). What?!
Anyway, wutts tha, uh deal with the new GO single?
I don't know what you're talking about! We never agreed to a new single, lies, lies, lies!
Ok, set yer tape recorders on standby. We'll play ya what we got. I imagine we'll also play a few lost gems from the vaults... ya never know.
I think I've got some Whatcha Doin' out-takes... also Free Electricity.
8/25/05

RS: What do you think the future of Rock & Roll is?
JL: Whatever we make it. If We want to go bullshitting off into intellectualism with Rock & Roll, we are going to get bullshitting Rock intellectualism. If we want real Rock & Roll, it's up to all of us to create it and stop being hyped by, you know, revolutionary image and long hair. We've got to get over that bit. Let's own up now and see who's who, who's doing something about what, and who's making music and who's laying down bullshit. Rock & Roll will be whatever we make it.

Phil Spector has completely lost his footing and is currently sliding down a mountain of fierce shit, folks. Judging by this unbelievable display, I'm guessing he's attempting to impress a jury primarily comprised of muppets.
If I'm wrong, he's fucked.
I was supposed to give this up to Johnny, for the 'news' blog, but there's no way... I can't even believe this is real.

I don't think rock 'n' roll is as important a force as it was in the '60's. Rock 'n' roll is getting like jazz used to be—it's big in Europe. Those kids out there, they're concerned with getting good jobs and stuff. They'll go see Styx and it's like spectacle. It's very much leisure-time activity right now. It's just something to consume.
I think that even right now it's like rock 'n' roll doesn't exist. On the one side you have this utterly homogenized margarine, and on the other side you have a bunch of people celebrating total incompetence. The idea of New Wave originally was like do it yourself, and because there's no rules, you come up with something really inventive and creative and good and interesting. Not just saying, "I can't play." Like Brian Eno gets these tapes from assholes that say, "Hi. We can't play our instruments either. Listen to this." He writes them back and says, "Listen, that's not the point." It's not that you're good because you can't play. So I don't know. These days, there's so little that is rock ‘n' roll or that has any kind of vitality to it. It's almost like it doesn't exist right now.
Everybody wants to be so hip and they won't like... I had a Grateful Dead album out that I was playing for a while, and people would come in here like this writer from the NME and they'd be like, "Are you listening to the Grateful Dead?" You know what I mean, you're not supposed to say you like something by the Grateful Dead, you're only supposed to like Public Image, Ltd. until somebody else tells you you're not supposed to like that anymore. And that's just shit. I hate that kind of stuff. The NME is like the king of that. They were political for like a year and a half when it was correct to be, and then they were into fashion. Fuck that. You have to go by what you believe in, what you feel. That's the only way anybody ever accomplished anything. I'm sure there'll be some kind of renaissance of rock ‘n' roll again as a backlash if anything against all this electronic computer stuff. There'll probably be a backlash of people doing things with acoustic instruments or just the human voice unadorned, a capella and stuff like that.

While we're on the subject of trivia, why don't we clear up one of the biggest rumors about the Kinks. There's been a lot of arguments between rock fans...

About Jimmy Page playing those early leads?

Yeah.

I'll tell you something about Jimmy Page. Jimmy Page thinks he was the first person in the world to ever put a B string where a G string should be. And for me, that's his only claim to fame. Other than that, I think he's an asshole. You see, when there was a new pop group like the Kinks, you got all sorts of people coming to the sessions and wanting to sit in. There were a lot of groups going around at the time—the Yardbirds, the Kinks, the Rolling Stones—and nobody had really cracked with a sort of R&B number one record. The songs were always sort of like the Beatles. When we first wanted to do a record, we couldn't get a recording gig. We were turned down by Decca, Parlophone, EMI and even Brian Epstein came to see us play and turned us down. So I started writing songs like "You Really Got Me", and I think there was a sheer jealousy that we did it first. Because we weren't a great group—untidy—and we were considered maybe a bit of a joke. But for some reason, I'd just had dinner, shepherd's pie, at my sister's house, and I sat down at the piano and played da, da, da, da, da. The funny thing is it was influenced by Mose Allison more than anybody else. And I think there was a lot of bad feeling. I remember we went to clubs like the Marquee, and those bands wouldn't talk to us because we did it first

You must know the story of "You Really Got Me". It was recorded first at Pye with a producer who made it sound like Phil Spector, and there was no way that I was going to let them put it out. I said I'd leave the music business first because I'd never write another song like it. In the end, they gave us 200 pounds—which is like 400 bucks—to re-record it. We went into a cheap little studio, and on the session was Mick Avory on drums, Dave Davies playing lead guitar—playing a Harmony guitar which was like a cheap version of a Gibson—I was playing a Maton which is a cheap version of a Harmony. I had a Wallace amplifier which was custom built. Dave was using a Vox and a little six watt pre-amp with knitting needles stuck in it. We had Arthur Greenslade—a session pianist—on piano, and a guy named Vic who was doubling my part because I was singing lead. So there were three guitars and a piano doing the riff. And for all I know, Jimmy Page must have been having dinner with his mother that night.

Jimmy Page and a lot of other people subsequently came to our sessions when we became hot, and I think he played rhythm 12-string on "I'm A Lover, Not A Fighter", and he played tambourine on "Long Tall Shorty". Jon Lord, the organist of Deep Purple, played organ on 'Bald Headed Woman'. The curious thing is I wrote a song called "Revenge" which had a riff like "You Really Got Me". Our publisher at the time was a man named Larry Page. To get a part of the action—this was a real con trick—he registered the song as a co-composer, and he wasn't even on the session for the demo. So maybe the fact that Larry Page was credited as co-composer of Revenge" adds some substantial evidence to Jimmy Page's claim.

I remember Page coming to one of our sessions when we were recording "All Day And All Of The Night". We had to record that song at 10 o'clock in the morning because we had a gig that night. It was done in three hours. Page was doing a session in the other studio, and he came in to hear Dave's solo, and he laughed and he snickered. And now he says that he played it! So I think he's an asshole, and he can put all the curses he wants on me because I know I'm right and he's wrong. He's an asshole. Dave is a great guitar player. He's got his limitations, but he's never been given justice for doing that. He made that when he was 16-years-old. He created a sound, and after that came Jimi Hendrix and all the fuzz boxes.

How long do you think the Kinks can continue as a band?

Let's put it like this. I don't think there's any end to what we can do. I don't want to end up in a Holiday Inn. I'd rather sweep the streets because I'd be better at that. I'd be more artistic at that anyway. That's the last thing I want to do—cabaret and all that bullshit. But I like to feel that every show is the last one we're going to do because that gives us the fire.

How seriously do you think rock 'n' roll should be taken?

How seriously should it be taken? As seriously as the CBS News. Because there's a lot of junk said in rock 'n' roll—there's a lot of junk lyrics—but there's a lot of great lyrics and a lot of great music as well.

I think what's happened—it's got to be taken a bit seriously because it's become this huge industry. There's, so much at stake. You wouldn't believe the wheeling and dealing that's going on to get us to play with the Rolling Stones. I think it really is a big business, and I came into it just to play music. The big companies have got their schedules, they've got their quotas, they've got their money allocated to artists, and it's all very important. It's also a big industry for the government. In the '60s, it was the only thing England had going for it. That's why the Beatles got the MBE. Rock music is really one of our biggest exports. So it's got to be taken a bit serious.

And those people in "Rock 'N' Roll Fantasy"—it helps people get through their life. I said tonight: "Here's a song for a waitress. This is for a queer. Here's a song for a closet queen" or whatever. Everybody's got to have some kind of identification with something. When I first started out, I used to walk around Muswell Hill and say: "I don't relate to any of these people. I've got to get out of here." My way out was through music and art. It's the whole thing in England—the only way to get out is to be a coal miner or a football player. That's the way it was in the '40s and '50s. Now it's rock music. That's why you get bands like Madness going straight from school and becoming rock musicians. Because there's no other way for them. They can't get jobs. But rock music has given them an understanding and a way of expressing themselves. I think it should be taught in schools.

It's a way of expression for people who before would have just been lumbered in factory jobs, and that would have been the end. It would be like the rough going in Eraserhead. Nothing. And even if these kids make one album or one song, they've made a mark on the world and said something. That's what was the great thing about 1977 and new wave music since then. It might not be the best music. The best music was written a hundred years ago or nearly a hundred years ago. But I'm talking about expressionism. You'll notice that expressionistic art is becoming popular again. I think it's all collective. So in the sense of a guy listening to music on his stereo to keep alive, to give him the will to get up in the morning, I think it is important. That it is as important as the news.

And it's got to stop all this. [He points out the, window.] Eventually people are going to get fed up with what's happening to America and England. The Skinheads have got their music in England. I think there are elements in that, though—I hate to say the word—subversive elements. They're using a lot of innocent people. It's great in England, though. We get a lot of Mod kids and Skinheads at our gigs because the Jam like us.

They do a good version of "David Watts".

It's wonderful. They're getting into our other songs because of that one, and they realize that there is another world apart from that horrible, blank concrete world that's out there—the Eraserhead world. That's why music is so good right now. And that's why rock music is more now than a 19-year-old kid playing to a blonde. That's why you get guys over 30 playing rock music to express themselves. And that's why you have 16-year-old kids playing rock music as well.


read the entire interview @ creemmagazine.com, thanks guys! Nice work!

Hey, just a quick note to let you know that I can see you...
pretty creepy eh?
A fond hello to our friends in Japan, Switzerland, Canada, Germany "Felsen und Rolle, bis Sie sich erbrechen!!!", England, and (of course) the USA!!! Thanks for keeping in touch with us. If I can convince Johnny to relax a little, we'll post a really funny film that he made w/ Detroit super-stars Wendy Case (The Paybacks) & Freddy Fortune (Fortune & Maltese)... it's a guaranteed rib tickler.
We'll have that up and running within a week or so, along with some really rare mp3 downloads sure to make you say, "Jesus Christ! What were they thinking?!!!!"

Much love always,
Bobby Harlow & The Greasy/Depraved GO

by Albert Camus

The gods had condemned Sisyphus to ceaselessly rolling a rock to the top of a mountain, whence the stone would fall back of its own weight. They had thought with some reason that there is no more dreadful punishment than futile and hopeless labor.

If one believes Homer, Sisyphus was the wisest and most prudent of mortals. According to another tradition, however, he was disposed to practice the profession of highwayman. I see no contradiction in this. Opinions differ as to the reasons why he became the futile laborer of the underworld. To begin with, he is accused of a certain levity in regard to the gods. He stole their secrets. Egina, the daughter of Esopus, was carried off by Jupiter. The father was shocked by that disappearance and complained to Sisyphus. He, who knew of the abduction, offered to tell about it on condition that Esopus would give water to the citadel of Corinth. To the celestial thunderbolts he preferred the benediction of water. He was punished for this in the underworld. Homer tells us also that Sisyphus had put Death in chains. Pluto could not endure the sight of his deserted, silent empire. He dispatched the god of war, who liberated Death from the hands of her conqueror.

It is said that Sisyphus, being near to death, rashly wanted to test his wife's love. He ordered her to cast his unburied body into the middle of the public square. Sisyphus woke up in the underworld. And there, annoyed by an obedience so contrary to human love, he obtained from Pluto permission to return to earth in order to chastise his wife. But when he had seen again the face of this world, enjoyed water and sun, warm stones and the sea, he no longer wanted to go back to the infernal darkness. Recalls, signs of anger, warnings were of no avail. Many years more he lived facing the curve of the gulf, the sparkling sea, and the smiles of earth. A decree of the gods was necessary. Mercury came and seized the impudent man by the collar and, snatching him from his joys, lead him forcibly back to the underworld, where his rock was ready for him.

You have already grasped that Sisyphus is the absurd hero. He is, as much through his passions as through his torture. His scorn of the gods, his hatred of death, and his passion for life won him that unspeakable penalty in which the whole being is exerted toward accomplishing nothing. This is the price that must be paid for the passions of this earth. Nothing is told us about Sisyphus in the underworld. Myths are made for the imagination to breathe life into them. As for this myth, one sees merely the whole effort of a body straining to raise the huge stone, to roll it, and push it up a slope a hundred times over; one sees the face screwed up, the cheek tight against the stone, the shoulder bracing the clay-covered mass, the foot wedging it, the fresh start with arms outstretched, the wholly human security of two earth-clotted hands. At the very end of his long effort measured by skyless space and time without depth, the purpose is achieved. Then Sisyphus watches the stone rush down in a few moments toward tlower world whence he will have to push it up again toward the summit. He goes back down to the plain.

It is during that return, that pause, that Sisyphus interests me. A face that toils so close to stones is already stone itself! I see that man going back down with a heavy yet measured step toward the torment of which he will never know the end. That hour like a breathing-space which returns as surely as his suffering, that is the hour of consciousness. At each of those moments when he leaves the heights and gradually sinks toward the lairs of the gods, he is superior to his fate. He is stronger than his rock.

If this myth is tragic, that is because its hero is conscious. Where would his torture be, indeed, if at every step the hope of succeeding upheld him? The workman of today works everyday in his life at the same tasks, and his fate is no less absurd. But it is tragic only at the rare moments when it becomes conscious. Sisyphus, proletarian of the gods, powerless and rebellious, knows the whole extent of his wretched condition: it is what he thinks of during his descent. The lucidity that was to constitute his torture at the same time crowns his victory. There is no fate that can not be surmounted by scorn.

If the descent is thus sometimes performed in sorrow, it can also take place in joy. This word is not too much. Again I fancy Sisyphus returning toward his rock, and the sorrow was in the beginning. When the images of earth cling too tightly to memory, when the call of happiness becomes too insistent, it happens that melancholy arises in man's heart: this is the rock's victory, this is the rock itself. The boundless grief is too heavy to bear. These are our nights of Gethsemane. But crushing truths perish from being acknowledged. Thus, Edipus at the outset obeys fate without knowing it. But from the moment he knows, his tragedy begins. Yet at the same moment, blind and desperate, he realizes that the only bond linking him to the world is the cool hand of a girl. Then a tremendous remark rings out: "Despite so many ordeals, my advanced age and the nobility of my soul make me conclude that all is well." Sophocles' Edipus, like Dostoevsky's Kirilov, thus gives the recipe for the absurd victory. Ancient wisdom confirms modern heroism.

One does not discover the absurd without being tempted to write a manual of happiness. "What!---by such narrow ways--?" There is but one world, however. Happiness and the absurd are two sons of the same earth. They are inseparable. It would be a mistake to say that happiness necessarily springs from the absurd. Discovery. It happens as well that the felling of the absurd springs from happiness. "I conclude that all is well," says Edipus, and that remark is sacred. It echoes in the wild and limited universe of man. It teaches that all is not, has not been, exhausted. It drives out of this world a god who had come into it with dissatisfaction and a preference for futile suffering. It makes of fate a human matter, which must be settled among men.

All Sisyphus' silent joy is contained therein. His fate belongs to him. His rock is a thing. Likewise, the absurd man, when he contemplates his torment, silences all the idols. In the universe suddenly restored to its silence, the myriad wondering little voices of the earth rise up. Unconscious, secret calls, invitations from all the faces, they are the necessary reverse and price of victory. There is no sun without shadow, and it is essential to know the night. The absurd man says yes and his efforts will henceforth be unceasing. If there is a personal fate, there is no higher destiny, or at least there is, but one which he concludes is inevitable and despicable. For the rest, he knows himself to be the master of his days. At that subtle moment when man glances backward over his life, Sisyphus returning toward his rock, in that slight pivoting he contemplates that series of unrelated actions which become his fate, created by him, combined under his memory's eye and soon sealed by his death. Thus, convinced of the wholly human origin of all that is human, a blind man eager to see who knows that the night has no end, he is still on The GO (couldn't resist, sorry). The rock is still rolling.

I leave Sisyphus at the foot of the mountain! One always finds one's burden again. But Sisyphus teaches the higher fidelity that negates the gods and raises rocks. He too concludes that all is well. This universe henceforth without a master seems to him neither sterile nor futile. Each atom of that stone, each mineral flake of that night filled mountain, in itself forms a world. The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man's heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy.
Happy? No kidding, Al? How 'bout you hold back some of that enthusiasm pal?

"Now, a Theremin, when we got the Theremin on there, we got it on there so that people could understand the Theremin in a, in finite terms. In finite musical terms, in exact terms. None, I'm not talkin about, well, you know what I mean. In terms of written music but in a sense that it had an unwritten sound to it.
What we were doing, Good Vibrations was probably the, of all the Beach Boy records probably the best combination of instruments and most unique way of taking conventional and instruments that had only been associated with adults, you know? And children, 21 year old children... 25 year old children too, you know?
I mean, children of god are in their 20s. You know what I mean?
The 20 year olds, and not really rapidly approaching 30 at all. Right there like mid 25/26 year old people, you know, young adults. Not quite adults, really, but kind of flamboyant... a little bit whimsical... whimsical personalities and a whimsical sense of humor.
The situation with Good Vibrations, I don't think it was a funny record. It didn't make me laugh, you know? It made me cry, 'cause I had seen, I had once made sure that I had grasped the idea that when you take classical instruments and placed them in a Rock & Roll environment, you have refined music. You have Rock & Roll brought to a height. And it's a funny thing, you know, nobody ever really called Good Vibrations a Rock & Roll record, but it was a Rock & Roll record. It rocked, you know, it really rocked.
I had no idea that it'd be a hit record. We thought we weren't even going to release it because it was so bizarre. Our record company said, Capitol Records says it's too long 'cause it's 3:35. The time on it was three minutes and thirty five seconds and Capitol Records said we're gonna go with Help Me Rhonda, no wait, with Barbara Ann.
And we said no, let me logically convince you that this record...
And then we had gotten people over to our houses, listening, and people were flipping. They're going, "Whew, that's a great fuckin' record man!"
And I said, "But our company doesn't want to release it."
And they said, "You shouldn't listen to your record company. Force 'em to put it out."
And the goddamn record went out and went to #1 in the nation... and all because of that Theremin and the cello."