So I’m listening to Seeking A Deep Feeling by The John Francis, which is the first solo album by everybody’s favorite Jack Small. It is surprisingly fabulous. (Surprising because I knew him before he met Erin, when he lived in the Doom Central room with Danny and the Lad and Sometimes Ryan, and you don’t expect someone you’ve known in that room to turn out talented. They all did though.)
When last we saw our hero, he showed us the room he’s renting in the house he used to share with the Lad, a block from my folks. It’s actually the breezeway between the house itself and the garage; just this small drafty area with a glass door leading to the outside and annual flood warnings during the rain. The bed is covered in junk because he’s been making music twenty hours a day and then passing out in a chair when he absolutely has to.
Think about that for a second. I’ve never done anything for twenty hours straight. Once I slept for forteen hours, but it sounds less impressive somehow.
Anyway, thus the new album. He has that Vedder/Daly grunge rock quality to his voice, though since I know nothing NOTHING nothing about music it’s possible that I only think so because that stuff is all I really recognize. But the rest of the music doesn’t sound like grunge. It sounds like Jack.
And you should check it out, is what I’m finally getting around to saying. You can get it from the Lad if you don’t know Jack, or on Amazon. (It’s so cool to see someone I know on Amazon. Is not that strange.)
And now it’s time for me to go be depressed for awhile about my complete lack of creative drive. I hope I have managed to make the rest of you feel bad as well, since I am now vying with Sushi to be the Shah of Sad.