Fuck. It’s goddamn hard to keep up with music. New books, magazines, to say nothing of of the several dozen albums that crop up new each week. Trying to read every article or blog entry, while listening to the new album “you just have to hear” is enough to drive someone berserk.

Seriously, a month or two ago, I had George Hurchalla’s Going Underground, the new issue of Mojo, its accompanying compilation, a disc I’d found the day before in a dollar bin, and an mp3 player loaded with half a gig of new music downloaded in the past week, along with Robert Moore’s “Sonic Spectrum” going on. All of this shit competing for my attention.

And I was at work! Can you imagine what it’s like at my apartment? All that, plus wife, plus kids, plus cat, plus various household duties. Add in this with trying to get every cool little musical detail that catches my eye read, and this might explain my semi-annual “fuck this shit!” emotional breakdown, wherein I say “fuck this shit!” and swear that I’m going to quit writing. That lasts for two hours, then I end up getting drunk and coming to my senses after the wife talks me down.

Mommas, don’t let your babies grow up to be freelance writers…

Green Day – “Burnout” (live at Woodstock ’94)