Tag: music

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Best way forward in 2026? Do the things we love to do with all our love, heart & soul. For the Lovely Carla and I, that means making music with our band, whitewolfsonicprincess, and the incredible collection of creative souls we are lucky to create with & know. Fellow creative spirits onto the next thing. Creating new songs, new worlds, exploring new territory. For us, the new year also means spending lots of time with our little flock of birds, and all the happy little furry creatures we hang with; living with body, mind & spirit aligned, navigating a fantastically strange existence as best we can.

Still, 2026 in America: difficult circumstannces, no doubt…

If you have read Cormac McCarthy’s post-apocalyptic novel “The Road,”  (2006) (it is a worthy read), you know one of the key existential questions, that “the Boy” asks “his Father,” after much drama & trama, and a long, winding journey across a bleak & scarred land, a question that sort of makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up:  “Are we still the good guys?” 

It’s a question that this particular American is asking himself this particular morning, the 1st day of 2026. This country I live in has taken a very dark turn. The USA is being led by a criminal & a criminal administration. All evidence points to the conclusion that “No, sorry to say, we aren’t still the good guys.”

Crimes against humanity near & far. The USA now seems to be a force for evil, corruption, murder, greed, racism, white supremacy & idiocy. It’s a major bummer. Makes living in the USA a very difficult proposition. A thorny, contradictory, porcupine-like existence.

It’s  a killer conundrum. I cling to a disciplined positivity as a basic & essential survival strategy, but also I adhere to a determined clarity. To see the world as it really is, not just how I want it to be, no rosy-colored glasses. Clarity. Stone-cold clear-seeing.

How to live a good life, knowing that crimes are being committed in my name every damn day? The only answers I can conjure up: Stay close to ground. Create music. Try to do my best to be honest, true, with positive thoughts for a better day and a better way. Love those I love. And resist, oppose the evil-doers,  refuse to go along with the idiocy, and the bad actions of others, to stand against them with every ounce of my being. 

The Lovely Carla and I choose Love, Grace, Beauty, Intelligence. Happy New Year! – Jammer

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I finished reading Patti Smith’s “Bread of Angels” (2025). It is a beautiful, “death-haunted,” memoir. I suppose if you live long enough you too will become “death-haunted.” Death is sort of the mystery that envelops every life. Those of us still living must contend with the reality and finality of death in our own particular ways. Patti reaches out to the mystery & the poetry. It’s admirable, inspiring and deeply sad too. I was happy to read the book, and also happy to finish it. Patti lost some of her most significant lovers, inspirers, and co-conspirators early on. And she lost many more significant & influential folks over the years. She pays tribute to all those who gifted her along the way. An extraordinary life. The r&r shaman & poet. I recently purchased the 50th Anniversary Edition of her debut album “Horses.” (1975). The remaster CD sounds fantastic. One of the greatest debut albums of all time with probably, for me, the greatest opening lines of all time. Certainly lines that made this lasped-Catholic boy sit up and take notice. Yes. Head-opening. A glorious liberation: “Jesus died for somebody’s sins, but not mine…”  The lines that follow are epic too: “… my sins are my own… they belong to me… to me…” Very Jean Paul Satre “existentialist,” don’t you know?! And then throughout her rendition of the classic r&r song, “Gloria,” Patti adopts the persona of a very insistent & aggressive rebellious-tomboy, on the hunt for a pretty young thing, “leaning on the parking meter, humping on the parking meter,” or maybe she’s imagining embodying a creative, rebellious, rambunctious boy, something along the lines of a young, surrealist-cowboy-mouth Dylan or an illminated Arthur Rimbaud? You know, totally, fucking extraordinary, mind-expanding r&r, right up there with Dylan’s great album “Highway 61 Revisited” (1965).- Jammer