We’re happy to play this show
But sad to see Melinda go
And Brennen Leigh and Noel McKay
Shall sing before they’re on their way
Back to Nashville, back out East
Where Melinda shall put roots down, deep
(I mean she’s moving to Wisconsin or Minnesota or something, not Nashville)
The Happy Gland Band will play too
And we’ll drink lots of coffee, too
At Napoli, that lovely place
Our three duos shall melt your face.
We’re entering a contest! It’s this contest. It’s a contest where you make a video (hey, we do that) of you playing music (hey, we do that, too) with a desk nearby (hey, we have a desk), and maybe you get to play at the NPR Music offices in Washington sometime. So we did the things they asked us to do and now we’ve made another video!
For this contest, as you can see, we made a video for a song that I wrote called The Clever Wife. It’s about the wonders of being a 1950s housewife.
ALSO, this is our FIRST PATRON-FUNDED video! Hooray! Since we launched our Patreon page, a coupla’ really lovely ladies actually decided to take money out of their own wallets or pants or PayPals or whathaveyou and…gave it to us! What’s more, they’ve promised to give us money every time we make a video. (And boy, oh boy, have we got some plans.) Well, all we have to say is…thank you!
We just launched our Patreon page! What’s that, you say? Patronage died out nearly hundreds of years ago? Yes, well we thought so too. Turns out there’s a website out there trying to bring the patron/artist relationship back. If you’d like to help us in our wacky quest to make fun music and silly videos, this is one way you can do that.
Here’s the low-down:
We make videos. We upload them to YouTube for free. We love doing this. With Patreon, we’re trying to make this more of a money-making venture. We’re asking you to pledge an amount of money—$1, 2$, any amount you’re comfortable with—per video we release.
We made this short video to help explain what the deal is. (Warning: it contains a unhealthy amount of dog tongue—but we think it’s really funny, anyway.)
And there’s stuff in it for you, too! We’ve got rewards set up for different levels of patronage, including mp3 downloads and ukulele tutorials. More info is on our Patreon page!
AHHH we can’t tell you how excited we are about this! Best to you and yours and we hope you’re having a super spectacular extra-fandangled New Year!
It’s the truth. That person who collects vintage kazoos in all keys, has every electronic gadget, and ten mewling cats to boot, probably does not have (and doesn’t even realize she needs) an anatomically correct model of the Happy Gland.
Avoid buying crap from evil corporate entities!
Rather than going all corporate this holiday season, check out some fine goods that Jared and I made ourselves.Everything that we sell at the Happy Gland Band online storewas handmade with love (starting with our music).
Jared and I have been rushing around like crazy people trying to insulate the Happy Gland Dirigible with enough straw to keep it warm for the winter. No plastic sheeting or double-sided tape for us, no! We do things the old fashioned way, with crispy shafts of dead wheats. Little piles here, little piles there—it keeps blowing around every time we open the doors and the chickens keep coming inside, nestling into the piles as though they belong there. It’s quite bothersome, really, but cute.
When they sit in front of the right places, it almost stops some of the drafts. Chicken-chinking of dirigible walls. It’s a thing. Yes, we’ve invented it. (And by “we” I mean the feathery miniature dinosaurs.)
A Change of Heart
On Halloween, Jared and I decided to let our hair down for once. No longer would we be the stiff, boring, awkward versions of ourselves that we pretend to be for the sake of making real life run more smoothly. (For being showered with joy and adoration each time you go into public can be quite time-consuming.) We would be something bolder—more daring!—more colorful than what we normally are. We would go to the local shooting range and have chats with the patrons about the benefits of gun control! No, we would don wigs and set the camera rolling.
And we’re playing a show tomorrow
Have you ever considered a career in the environment? While working for the environment, you not only get the satifaction of battling seemingly intractable forces of terrifying destruction, you also get to see Sage and Jared play music. At the right sorts of eco-conferences, of course!
We’ll be at the Embassy Suites here in Albuquerque for the Quivira Coalition‘s shindig tomorrow, Thursday evening.
Last Friday Jared and I emerged shivering from the Happy Gland Band dirigible, cursing the fact that we had once again forgotten that the fabric covering of our airship provides poor insulation against the chilliness of Hallow’s Eve eve night. We shook it off, though—we’re not ones to whine and complain that a cruel draft had slipped in through the beaded curtain that separates the dirigible’s expansive kitchen from the sleeping area, and down into our toes through the avocado green comforter that covers our bed.
Rather than shiver like nervous chihuahuas, we got out into the sun and started hatching video-making plans for the song we had recorded the previous evening.
And now, for some behind-the-scenes costuming action, or A Dead Sloth Photo Essay:
Almost a year ago, the Happy Gland Band dirigible alighted from these desert soils and carted Jared, George Michael, Daphne, and I off to our very first CD release party! We had a grande olde time and just remembering it causes us to pull out our vintage 1970s print avacado green handkercheifs to wipe away the nostalgic little tears in our eyes.
So, drawing ever nearer to the first birthday of our very own first CD we made together, we’d like to bake it a cake and share this Bandcamp player with you.
Here at the Happy Gland Ranch, things are getting interesting in the compost pile. We’ve been feeding chickens obscenely disgusting (or exceedingly delicious, depending upon whose perspective we’re dealing with) maggots from the compost pile. We draw them out with halves of (sadly) rotten melons (yes, we’ve had more than one of those, recently, sigh), which we think are obscenely disgusting, but the maggots think are exceedingly delicious. Then it’s a simple process of scooping the intensely wriggling, obscenely disgusting, exceedingly delicious maggot-melon-pile out of the metal cage in which the compost lives, at which time the chickens attack each maggot with extreme precision.
I like to sit and imagine their chicken bellies filled with almost-wriggling maggots, don’t you?
Here’s something really cool. If you stick your face next to the compost pile in the dark, quiet evening time, you can hear the delightful wettish wrigglings of about a bajillion quadrillion grubby creatures sliming through dead leaves, our rotten food and their own shit. What a life, what a life.
In other news, I spent the better part of the day, a few days ago, slaving over a hot music box. Something that occurred to me only after said music box arrived in the mail was that I had signed myself up for an extremely tedious task. You gotta take this really long strip of cardstock and punch about a gajillion holes in it, paying attention to the grid printed on the card, knowing about notes (which are, of course, written on the card as being a fifth above the note you actually hear—because of infallible reasons, I am sure), being aware of the meter, and just generally being on top of things, which is sometimes a problem for me.
I used approximately a mile of tape to cover holes that I wish I hadn’t punched. This is interesting because once you apply a certain amount of shiny tape to this cardstock, it won’t feed though the box nicely. It can’t get enough traction. There are also the teensiest tiniest circles of cardstock all over the floor and the piano, and tiny scotch tape circles stuck to my hands. What a life, what a life.
A word to the wise: start off with a song that maybe isn’t in a blues shuffle. Or, know what measures and notes are and how they might appear on the cardstock before you begin. Oh, and definitely do this rather than washing the dishes or investigating that suspicious odor emanating from the fridge.
Thankfully, I found that there is, in fact, an app to cure almost all of my box-related woes. Hurrah! Though I can’t say for certain that this eliminates the need for scotch tape, I wlil say that it makes the experimentation phase much less messy.
In other, other news, we have recently invited yet another creature to reside with us here at the Happy Gland Ranch. This is an exceptionally snuggly four year old cat who has spent some of his time here digging with unabashed exuberance in the kitty litter (provided for his use in a thrift-store baking pan with slighty-too-low sides, sigh). Last evening he went for to explore our vast (aka, teensy) front yard through the window Jared had opened in order to listen in on an exciting argument a couple of our charming neighbors were engaged in. But, really, the cat has spent the majority of his first week here sleeping inside our futon. I believe it is very secluded and cozy in there.
And, in closing, let me share with you something completely different: a way to make phunky musak online, my friends. Yes, it’s everything you’ve been waiting for. An online keyboard you can play with your keyboard. It’s very intuitive to people who actually play the piano. Wait. It’s actually really not intuitive to people who play the piano. I spent an inordinate amount of time the other night composing a story, and by extension, a pretty badass (bad? assinine?) atonal creation.
We at the Happy Gland Band are proud to announce the release of our latest blockbuster video hit, Walking. Starring my glue-stick-encrusted hands, construction paper, and the highest quality posterboad known to mankind. Intrigued? Read the “true” story of the video’s creation here.
If I Had You: another new video from the Happy Gland Band
We also decided to finally record If I Had You, the prettiest song in our repertoire that was written, interestingly enough, by someone else (three someone elses, rather: James Campbell, Reginald Connelly, and Ted Shapiro, who went collectively by “Irving King,” who is not Irving Berlin—confused yet? I am!) in 1928.
I’m currently writing a blog post about compost-pile maggots and their relationship to chickens, a new cat that has taken up residency in our futon, and a thousand tiny cardstock circles, marking the death of my dreams in this whole make-your-own-music-box-tune charade.