THE VERY EVENING before this fine day, I met with some colleagues to discuss a topic which I am currently not at liberty to share as it is a matter of the utmost secrecy, and moreover unimportant to the aim of this periodical.  The weather being unusually mild, we three adjourned on the patio of a café on the opposite side of town from my estate.  Three pints of ale were tasted to their bottoms and replenished, a process which at length converted a meeting of austerity to one of inebriety.  It was a fine night for intemperance as I have little on my calendar to-day.  However, by virtue of those who daily depend on it, this publication has become a task of high-priority from which I cannot allow one night of merrymaking to divert my focus.  It is a monster which I have created to which I must continually supply sustenance – a Good monster that is.

Returning to the evening, there was an encounter which stands out between the clouds in my mind.  It was with an old acquaintance named Mr. Jack Lawrence.  A couple of years had passed since I had been in his presence in which time he had made quite a name for himself as the bass player for an ensemble named The Raconteurs.  In association with his band-mate Mr. Jack White, he has since enjoyed considerable fame and success.  What immediately struck me about him was that in spite of his successes, he still exhibited an authentic humility.  He made note that he had been receiving my event invitations and was very gracious about the fact.  I imagined him standing in some green-room in Italy, tuning his bass to perform for thousands of eager fans and receiving my transmission that stated ‘Come on out to the Family Wash tonight’.  But, I am reminded of Emerson who said “There is no great and no small to the soul that maketh all”.  Mr. Lawrence himself did not make the distinction, being very humble and personable.  It was a pure example of a person managing himself well in the face of great accomplishment.  I was immensely impressed and inspired!

As the night wore on, I allowed my deluded state to wear off.  We adjourned at a reasonable hour and my valet Ulysses transported me safely back to the Good Estate.  It was a much-needed night of good cheer and I gladly report that only mild and temporary brain damage was inflicted.  I return to the tasks-at-hand with optimism and enthusiasm!

In cheerful sobriety,
Mr. J. Hazelwood

I received numerous telegraphs yesterday inquiring as to the success of our performance at the 5 Spot Thursday evening; too many, in fact, to respond singly.  Therefore, I will tell the tale now since we are all gathered here in one place.  Allow me to dim the lamp-light.

It was a chilly Thursday evening just like any other, yet it held the quintessence of spring – that unspoken enthusiasm which accompanies new life.  The New Transcendentalists and I had congregated in my chamber to rehearse for the evening’s event.  As we are engaged in a ceaseless course of experimentation, it was apparent that this night’s performance would have its own individual stamp.  Most notably, it would be the first live performance for us with the pump organ.  Mr. Wallace was playing this beast of an instrument, and conveniently it fit perfectly into his Volkswagen van.  I must admit that it did seem a bit mad to haul this 120 year old piece of beautiful antique furniture to such a dank establishment as the 5 Spot, but my curiosity to see and hear it in a public context overpowered my trepidations.  Just the visual of it sitting in Mr. W’s ‘vintage’ van provided a hilarious contrast!  We wrestled this imposing instrument through the rock-club’s façade and up to its temporary resting place on the stage where it caused everything in its modern surroundings to look like science-fiction.  Eventually, The New Transcendentalists joined it on-stage and balanced things out nicely.

We started the set with ambience, fading into As the Storm Rolls In.  It was a perfect example of how an image is characterized by its background.  My immediate impression was that our set was going to come off as strikingly down-tempo and moody in this setting.  In such a moment, there is a detrimental instinct to compensate for this contrast, but in awareness we stayed the course.  I have long been of the mind that the things which strike us as odd about a performance are the very things that are impressed into our minds.  We may perhaps be uncomfortable with these feelings at first but they will eventually draw us further in.  Those performances which are immediately recognizable will just as instantly be forgotten.  Therefore, I carry this logic into my own performances, surrendering any need for congruency.  When I have amused myself, I can honestly say that the performance was a success – and it was!  The New Transcendentalists performed …well, transcendently!  A talented fellow named Mr. Jamie Dick was sitting-in for Mr. P. on percussion.  His playing was wonderful as was that of the lovely Ms. D.  Add the swirling ambience of Mr. G. on lap steel combined with that of Mr. W. on pump organ and a dream like atmosphere was created.  Our set lasted the better part of an hour, easing along like the melding scenes of a reverie.  I was wholly satisfied.

For making this memorable evening possible, I extend my warmest appreciations to the staff of the 5 Spot, as well as Mr. Wallace who booked our appearance.  I am also grateful to each of The New Transcendentalists for the contribution of His/Her unique talents.  Moreover, I whole-heartedly thank those attentive handfuls of music-lovers who participated in the magic of the evening.  It was a truly pleasurable experience for me and I do hope it was for you!

Your friend,
Mr. H.

Dear invitee,

Tonight’s concert is sure to be a grand event!  Invitations have been extended to a long list of distinguished personages, among them patrons and sages of the Old World.  First to heed our Répondez s’il vous plaît was the celestial Mother Earth.  Although she is very European in her grooming habits, she will be an honored and welcomed guest.  Next on the list was the venerable Old Man Winter, but he declined our invitation citing ‘Thermophobia’.  We did receive a response from Mister Sandman, but were unable to discern if it were a mere reverie.  Nonetheless, his surreal message stated that he will attend, but that he works nights and may have to retire early.  Father time is set to arrive at precisely 8:59 post-meridiem.  We are somewhat concerned that his compulsion disorder will be upset if we are to start a few minutes late in adherence to tradition.  Mistakenly, someone sent an invitation to Baby New Year who clearly cannot attend due to the ‘Over 21’ rule.  His father, The Great Creator can none but be present, for He is omnipresent.  There is a slight concern for overcrowding, but we have made every possible preparation.

If you yourself did not receive an invitation, then we beg your pardon!  It would be a pleasure if you would honor us with your presence.  As I have precluded, you will be in the finest company!  Please accept this transmittance as your invitation.  If you require further information or directions, we have provided a compendium and a map under World Travels.

Your humble host,
Mister Hazelwood

For the past few days, I have felt my body fighting off what might have been an immobilizing head-cold.  I have awakened with a sore throat in the mornings and stricken with lethargy in the evenings.  However, I am rarely ever sick and illness is  among those invisible entities which I am not at liberty to feed energy-to.  Instead, I am moved to point the focus of this entry to the topic of health.

I am an enthusiast of Folk Medicine, Homeopathy, and other holistic alternatives to the medicinal status-quo.  My experience and research has shown that it is human nature to be in complete health, and that most illness has its origin in a belief otherwise.  We have the power to invoke illness within our bodies just as we have the power to heal and maintain health.  I have often heard people say things like ‘Don’t get upset, you’ll make yourself sick’!  It would suggest that most of us are cognizant of this mind-body connection.  But why do we imagine that it only goes one way?  Yea, you are a much more powerful healer than you might know!

Dis-ease is often rooted in a problem of self-worth.  In fact, symptoms of this also appear outside of our-selves as ‘problems’ in our daily experience.  Many of us believe that we are much less than what we really are.  We have been taught that we are victims to the conditions of our life and that we are evil in nature.  Yet, our powerful nature is nonetheless at work!  These very beliefs are mirrored back to us as symptoms. When we attack the symptom (as modern medicine would have us do) we merely suppress the root issue, allowing it to compound and create greater problems in and outside of our-selves.  Instead, I prescribe this:  Know how magnificent you are!  Continually re-affirm your healthy nature! This knowing will affect your actions toward yourself and others.  You will then begin to experience the symptoms of health, joy, love, and abundance.

Be well,
Dr. Hazelwood

My peak season for composition is the Autumn.  In those few enchanted months, I have systematically been able to harvest an abundant yield of the year’s ideas and emotions with ease, rendering as much material as I have time for.  The year leading up to this past writing-season held for me more learning-experience than any since my childhood.  Naturally, I manifested more music than ever before.  Yea, but this prolificacy is a double-edged sword!  Perhaps it is a relatively favorable conundrum, but I find it a daunting task to stand before a congregation of my brain-children and select those which are nearest and dearest to my heart, to be presented to the world as proper representatives of my Good purpose.  But, it must be done in order to compile a cohesive collection of material, each song effectively charged to conduct a steady creative stream of the highest potentiality.

My writing style ranges from the allegorical to the affirmative.  In either case however, the Law of Mind is at work.  When one comes to fully realize that his every thought and word is the benefactor of his experience, he becomes very decisive about his language.  Art is the effect, but it is also the cause!  The images that we labor over and give passion to (whether positive or negative) will eventually become woven into the tapestry of our daily experience.  Therefore, the question becomes – “which of these songs hold an intention that I would have echoed back to me”? 

I once heard a radio interview from around 1940 of Blues-legend Blind Willie McTell.  The interviewer condescendingly asked him “can you sing us a complainin’ song Willie?  You know, a blues song – a complainin’ song”!  Willie completely averted this allusion and insisted that he didn’t know any songs like that, but only ‘songs of salvation’.  I was thoroughly impressed by this clear distinction of intention!  Clearly, we can place Mr. McTell among those luminaries who have been privy to The Secret.

Scheduling conflicts have forced our recording dates into the first week of April, so there is exactly one month left for preparation.  As a result of the aformentioned analysis I will soon have a final list of songs which are to be included in those sanctified sessions, and I have all but settled on a title.  I leave you in heart-felt gratitude for your participation and support.  Just the fact that you would take the time to consistently read this journal has been the elemental fuel for my fire!

With the utmost sincerity,
Mister H.

THIS WEEK has been a testament to the fact that the Universe certainly IS a mirror for ones intention.  Immediately upon committing to the forward motion of an album project (up until now I have had but a toe in the water for fear of pecuniary failure), I had the distinct feeling that I had impelled a great wave into motion that can only build and build before crashing onto distant shores, permeating land and sky, and eventually raining my Good back down upon me.  Miraculously, all of the doors and windows are opening around me and I have only to follow gentle breezes into wide-open spaces where it is possible that I may be rained-upon.  There are more developments, kind reader, than I would impose upon you for the moment.  But, allow me to expel some highlights.

This morning, I met at Crema – a downtown coffee-shop – with a gentleman named Mr. Jace Freeman, a videographer and photographer whose works I have been fervently impressed-by.  The meeting was to discuss plans for a music video for The Grey House, wherein Mr. Freeman detailed his vision articulately.  Very little conversation was necessary to know that we were of like mind, which strengthened my faith that the song would be well-served.  Moreover,  my gratitude for this man’s reciprocated interest in my art was intensified!  We formulated some basic ideas and made a tentative plan to begin filming in April.  I will keep you enlightened as to the details of this endeavor as they become known to me.

Another important announcement is a live performance by myself and the New Transcendentalists at The 5 Spot in East Nashville exactly one week from today – Thursday, March Fourth.  Also on the bill is Mr. James Wallace, for whom I will be performing the duties of antiquarian percussionist (James will also be a part of our ensemble), and The Orange Opera from Fort Wayne, Indiana.  The show is scheduled to begin at Nine O’clock.  We do hope you will join us and share in the excitement these influential days leading up to a snap-shot from their pinnacle.

Working tirelessly,
Mr. J.S. H.

In my time with Ode Hazelwood, and as a result of our excursions I had compiled a comprehensive list of names and electronic addresses of receptive fans from all over the world. Many of them hailed from mysterious far-away countries across Europe and Asia which I have only visited through a wire and in my dreams. It has been a wondrous experience to package-up a CD and place it in the post in remittance to some far-away and seemingly far-fetched destination. It is liken-to sealing a part of one’s spirit into an envelope to be opened in Arcadia, where it will fly-out, and mix-and-mingle with those of its recognition. There is no way to know how one’s art will be perceived in a place of vastly different culture. To me, it is a testament to Unity that a Scandinavian countryman, for example, would manage to meet with music to his liking on the opposite side of the globe, and decide that it is better than his money. It is this phenomenon which gives me an intrepid faith to carry-on with my life’s work, and drives me to create works which are of intrinsic value.

Yesterday, I transmitted a message to this aforementioned list of old acquaintances who originally found their way to me by synchronicity. And, the results were astounding! There is evidence that the number of daily visitors to this periodical reached its all-time zenith. Furthermore, I received an abundance of kind words and well-wishes in response. I am unspeakably flattered and humbled by this out-pouring of support. I extend my undying gratitude to every corner of the globe, where resides a living soul of common mind and heart with my very own.

Namaste’,
Mr. Joseph Hazelwood

In light of the prior week-end’s musical discoveries and with a giant leap of pecuniary faith, I have decided to abruptly alter the course of our recording project.  The New Transcendentalists have elicited the assistance of an alchemist named Mr. Joe McMahan.  It is he who produced my previous release Radio Noise, as well as recordings by Kevin Gordon, Jennifer Niceley, Mike Farris, The Altered Statesmen, Peter Bradley Adams, Claire Small, Joe and Vicki Price, and countless others.  He has also contributed to up-coming releases by Kurt Wagner of Lambchop and a highly-anticipated new Kevin Gordon record.  We have set a tentative date in March to record at a world-class facility in Nashville named The House of David. 

The rendition of As the Storm Rolls In that you’re hearing is a selection from our recent pre-production session.  As is the nature of experimentation, it is not without flaws, but I believe it to also contain moments of magic which can only occur from the synergy created by the interplay of inspired individuals.  In comparison, the sound of compounding individual performances has produced lack-luster results. We must set-out to catch lightning in a bottle – capture the magic of the eternal moment!  I hope you enjoy this fleeting moment of creative process.  It is sure to become even more saturated with the spirit of Unity.

Your humble servant,
Mr. H.

Dear Inquisitor,

To-day’s entry shall be two-fold, for yesterday was a remarkably eventful day – full of developments which are pertinent to the purpose of this periodical.  First was a pre-production session which took place here at the parsonage.  The New Transcendentalists, as they are coming to be known, did grace the Great Room with their presence, in experimenting with various modes of accompaniment to an initial collection of my compositions which are soon-to-be documented through a revolutionary new ‘sound-recording’ process.  When our work was complete, we took a moment to give our-selves and each-other-self a complimentary pat on the back before caravanning across town to witness a performance at The Basement by Laura Veirs.

~The Rehearsal~
One-by-one, these uniquely gifted personages stepped into the antechamber.  Each was greeted as a distinguished guest, and so should it be in this account.  I would like to acquaint the reader with each of these lofty figures in adherence to my heart’s decorum.  Ladies and Gentlemen, it is my distinct honor to introduce you to Mr. Tommy Perkinson.  This punctual personage, the first to arrive, is the pocket-watch of our ensemble.  He is percussionist through-and-through – classically trained yet au courant – a gentle soul and sympathetic instrumentalist.  Next to arrive is the beauteous Ms. Stephanie Dickinson.  She might be regarded as our heart-beat, an expert bass-violinist – impeccably in time and in tune – steady and true – an extroverted and lovely woman moreover.  Enter Mr. Jason Goforth.  I want to address his personality first – farcical!  This man has a wit to be matched by no-one, albeit in stark contrast with the seriousness of his approach to music.  He is the electronic wizard of the group, providing a lush and haunting landscape of organic ambience to each selection using lap-steel, harmonica, and a switch-board of analogue devices.  Next to make entrance is Mr. James Wallace – mad scientist of the pump organ and electric piano, and amiable associate.  His incomparable contribution is in the realm of melody, adding brilliant inflections which could only come from such a mind. Last, but not least, came Mr. Kevin Dailey – guitarist extraordinaire and kind soul, whose belated arrival was expected, due to a preceding engagement.  This was his first appointment with our ensemble and I must say that he performed skillfully, injecting discriminating riffs on guitars of six and twelve strings, which served as the proverbial ‘glue’ for all of our swirling auditory complexities.  On the whole, it was a juxtaposition of colorful characters which made for a transcendent musical and social experience.  I now have before me the task of revisiting the notes and recordings which were transcribed during this experimental session, as to plot our next course.

~The After-Party~
I have to admit that I was not familiar with the name Ms. Laura Veirs, but what I found was a sound completely unique and alluring to my ears!  Her band was phenomenal as well!  Nashville was one of their many stops on an on-going tour, each hailing from either Seattle, Washington or Portland, Oregon.  I will not attempt to intellectualize their artistry, but I do highly recommend a focused interest in the music of Ms. Laura Veirs and her latest album July Flame (which I did purchase myself, yet am still intending to give the attentive listen which it deserves).  During said transaction, I met the cheerful (and very pregnant) Ms. Veirs and her husband – Grammy-nominated record producer Tucker Martine who is also known for his work with The Decemberists, Mudhoney, Sufjan Stevens, Spoon, Bill Frisell, and others.  It was quite an honor to meet them both! 

The hour was late and I was growing tired.  The time had come to end this especially eventful day.  In bed, I tossed and turned uncharacteristically – saturated with the energy of excitement.  This is the sort of day from which one never recovers, as it leaves an impress so deep that the course of future events is altered by it.  I have awakened to a whole new world, where old experiments will no longer render familiar results.  I have drank-up all of the old wine.  New wine goes into new bottles.  And so it is….

Among The New Transcendentalists,
Mister Hazelwood

[Saturday]

After several long months of meticulous calculation, rigorous experimentation, and implementation of the resulting scientific philosophies; I was able to uncover the quantum equivalent of the feeling of spring.  I placed this elusive feeling into an advanced particle accelerator (the human heart) and alas, spring is manifest!  Just as in my hypothesis – warmth, hope, and good cheer are ubiquitous and abound!  My colleagues are sure to be shocked and awed by this revolutionary feat of science, which should guarantee me a place among the luminaries!  Assuredly, my name shall be listed in scholastic texts and journals of metaphysics forevermore – as the ‘Benefactor of Spring’.

[Sunday]

As it turns out, my findings were inconclusive.  Upon boasting to my fellow scientists, each insisted that he himself was the Creator, and had likewise been applying his consciousness to the upheaval of the winter.  This is most troubling.  Can they not see that I am the One – have they no perspective?!  And as if it were not trifling enough, these men are so bold as to go about enjoying the fruits of my labors!  Yea, I have seen each of them taking long leisurely strolls out-of-doors, and musing on park-benches with a pretentious air of magnanimity.  It is much to my dismay that I myself cannot bask in this light of victory.  I must immure myself within the stone walls of my laboratory until such time as I can prove irrefutably that I have discovered the Key to the Seasons.  If my calculations are correct, I will have done so by the epoch of November. 

 Mr. J.S. Hazelwood