RIP Faye Hunter

This makes me sad on so many levels.

Apparently, Faye Hunter (bassist for Let's Active in their jangle-pop heyday) has died at the age of 59. One report says she committed suicide after years of being primary caregiver for her sick mother.

A bit more info here.



I always thought of Let's Active as a band from an alternate reality.

The didn't quite understand what most music was, but they had a slightly warped perspective that, with the right amount of energy and exuberance, could be shaped into something that was almost recognizable, always compelling, and always just slightly out of reach.

In a kinder, more just world, they would have been superstars. Instead of cult heroes.

And our society isn't well equipped to take care of cult heroes. Especially when their time in the sun is over.

Condolences to her friends, family, and music lovers everywhere.

Loving this New David Bowie Video

Which seems like it's almost a mid-70s Bowie track.

Now if only I could stop thinking he looks frighteningly like Ronald Reagan in this clip....

Claymation Attacked My Youth

Again and again and again

There's a band down the street rehearsing.

And every one of their songs sounds good.

But every one of their songs sounds the same.

And they don't really care about this.

They think they have a signature. They think they can create a brand.

They might be right. Music these days is more about branding than sound. Or music. Or instrumentation. Or singing.

They asked me what I thought one day.

And I listened. I considered carefully.

I scratched my chin like I'd seen wise men do when I was younger.

And then I told them they needed some Claymation.

They laughed. Told me there was no such word.

And went back to playing another ten songs that all sounded alike.

And they didn't even notice when I slipped out the back, walked down the alley, and stopped in at a local bar.

Happy Birthday Ringo Starr

Your Moments of Ringo

73 years old today.



And drums still loom large in his legend.

Now Available: No, Mr. Bond, I Expect Your Dreams to Die

My book No, Mr. Bond, I Expect Your Dreams To Die is now available.

Thirty-six personal essays, stories, tone poems, and other short pieces.

Conveniently packaged in both paperback and ebook editions.

Click here for the paperback.

Click here for the Kindle edition.

For more information, visit alexmstein.com.

Want To Do Damage That You Can Undo

I've Got to Wait Here For Your Moon to Turn Blue

The chase is what matters, she said.

The phrasing of questions, the gathering of charms.

The feeling that something is on the way.

The haunting and sounding out.

I don't understand, I told her.

And her hips swayed. And she danced to the sounds that only she could hear.

And I listened. And it took a long time.

But eventually the sounds came through.

To Sleep Perchance to Bryan Adams

There's Times I'd Been Mistaken

In the dream, I was at an airport.

I'd gotten off a plane.

Someone came up to me. And said "We've got to hurry, Mr. Adams."

I said he had the wrong guy.

He didn't listen.

And then I was in a limo.

And being helped into a suit.

And I was handed a guitar.

And pushed onto stage.

Where the band started playing. That big hit song.

And the crowd cheered as I walked up to the microphone. A roadie handed me a cord and I plugged in the guitar.

And...

Because it was a dream...

I didn't worry that I couldn't play guitar.

I didn't worry that I hadn't picked up my bags at the airport.

I didn't worry that the real guy would show up.

All I could think of was that I hoped the pool was really empty and that I couldn't remember all the words to this song: