Becky Shaw

This is a truly amazing play written by Gina Gionfriddo. I am in it. I am a truly _______ actor.

I don't know what a girl in white socks and a low-cut dress sitting on a chest of drawers has to do with this show exactly. But it is the poster art for a truly amazing play so it's got to be genius.

Girl. Socks. Half a head. Drawers. Ahhhhhh... I get it!

See it while you can at Boston's Huntington Theater Company, directed by beardy genius Peter DuBois.

Tickets to Becky Shaw at the Huntington starring me.

A word from William

Hi. I'd like to give my friend Will Bray a chance to chime in on my little blog.

That's him there.

Any passing resemblance to the author of this blog is purely coincidental, and I'd like to point out that my nose isn't nearly that big. If you think it is, you're looking at it all wrong, and you can order a special lens from the B&H Catalog.

A word or two ABOUT my friend, before a word or two from him. Will Bray is a rock musician, singer-songwriter, actor, novelist, Anglophile and waiter. He lives in Brooklyn. His apartment is not entirely unlike the black box theater pictured above.

He's got an indie rock band called "William and the Tradesmen." He writes all the songs and sings lead. They've got all the usual problems that result from a guy starting a band with his own name in it. His bass player is seventeen years old and is usually absent from gigs due to Finals and unplanned trips to planned parenthood. He's on drummer number seven, or six, he can't remember which.

He writes songs similar to THESE.

William is obsessed with certain aspects of British culture, such as:












He... doesn't have a girlfriend.

Sorry, Will, why don't you take it from here?


Thanks. Um.. hi. I don't want to take up too much of your time. Eli wanted me to do a sort of Topic of the Week segment with you guys to see if anyone out there feels particularly strongly about any of these... topics. Sorry, I've started this badly. Today's topic is Completion.

Do you ever feel like you never finish anything, and that with every "project" you abandon you add another year to your afterlife in hell? (Sorry, like most agnostic Jews, I'm not big on Heaven or God, yet somehow Hell seems real.)

I just want to finish something. I have half of a novel. I've written lots of plays, one of which I put into three envelopes four years ago. I've written about 75 songs, but no one's heard them, so I don't count them as finished. You know? I quit my sketch comedy group, four bands, and a string of pilates lessons. The pattern has sustained itself over enough years to beg the question, what kind of MAN am I?

Like, what if Thomas Jefferson went around saying to all his friends, starting in like 1774, "Oh man, I've got this great idea for a declaration of independence, and I wrote the preamble and two really strong paragraphs, but I just don't know where it goes..." And he just goes on talking about it for years, past 1776, into the 1780's. And by that time the whole issue has cooled off, and he just gets way too into beekeeping and inventing swivel chairs... and that's it. The world never gets democracy, we still have a king. Which, I don't know, maybe that would be cool, actually. But, like, years later, in the 1820's, Jefferson's still saying, "Yeah, I still love that declaration, but I didn't have a publisher at the time, so I was like 'Who's going to read it? No one.'"

Is it me? Is it the age we live in? Or is it the fact that I don't have a revolution or a Continental Congress to bounce ideas off of. Am I just... spending too much time alone? And if so, how do I stop doing that and find... a congress or a revolution?

It keeps me up at night. Well, that and Wikipedia-ing the lives of famous people to see how they broke through. Sometimes it's people I'm not even interested in. I had no idea Mandy Patinkin helped Kelsey Grammer get the audition for Cheers. I mean, aren't all our minds kind of blown by this?

I also stay up trying not to contemplate my roommate's lovemaking. I don't hear him having sex with his girlfriend - I'm just up half the night thinking of how they must be going at it just two feet from my bedroom door, and how they must be pretty good at keeping it quiet. How do they keep it so quiet? They sleep on a single-size bed. They possess subtleties I do not.

Anyway - completion. It'd be nice to feel completed. Before mankind. In the course of human events. But 'til that happens it is my every intention to finish this Topic of the Day post - without resorting to .... shit, did you know Anderson Cooper is Gloria Vanderbilt's kid?

The Horror

William's bugging me to share another thought on my blog. I was reluctant at first because he just did one, but then he promised he'd burn me whatever I'm missing from my Smiths CD collection. I am not made of stone.

Will Bray, of William and the Tradesmen. Hit it.

The Horror.

... has become my nickname of late. I'm a skinny perfumed ponce with a huge ego, a big dick, and a shyness that is criminally vulgar. Now that I've nicked about eighteen different lines from other things, let me concoct something out of my own imagination to summarize the animal that I persist in being - an animal that should have been either a) drowned at birth or b) taken to some kind of hippie love thyself love thy neighbor camp when he was still impressionable enough to undo several decades of neurosis.

I am a complete basket case, unable to see past my various hang-ups, limitations, insecurities and delusions. I had a good time in 1986 at a friend's birthday party. I had a nice lunch yesterday. These represent the two times, that I can think of, in which I've let myself enjoy myself. And yet I still tend to be relentlessly critical of others and their hang-ups, limitations, insecurities and delusions. This is because of my large penis and enormous ego, which lets me think I'm more talented at certain things than others are. Talents such as self-assessment and avoiding becoming an accountant or a doctor.

One of my talents used to be building Lego castles. This talent reached its peak in the 1980's. Do they still make Lego castles, the knights and stuff? If so, I'd like a chance to prove myself again. One of the castles I made had a working portcullis. I used to be really good at following instructions.

I can hear, I can hear that thunder. And it's angry!

MEN AT WORK lose plagiarism suit in Australia

I have to say I am genuinely annoyed with this ruling. The Australian band Men at Work, whose last hit single was 1982's "Down Under," were just found guilty of plagiarism in the Australian High Court. The song in question? "Down Under," the million-dollar international chartbuster that was on the radio from morning til night in that same year that saw the Falklands War and the birth of Prince William.

In brief, Larrikin Music, an Aussie publishing company that owns the rights to a children's song called "Kookaburra Sits in the Old Gum Tree," decided two years ago to sue Men at Work for plagiarizing a segment of this song. They accused the band of using the melody, without permission, for the four-bar flute solo in their 80's single.

Sorry, I know it doesn't sound it, but this is big news.

A few weeks ago, and twenty-eight years after the release of "Down Under," a Sydney judge came down on the side of Larrikin Music, and very hard against Men at Work - stating that the band will have to pay out up to 60% of royalties earned on the 1981-recorded hit. Justice Jacobson decided that the flute solo in "Down Under" was intentionally pilfered from "Kookaburra," an Aussie Girl Scouts song penned in 1934 by a woman named Marion Sinclair. Over the decades Sinclair's song became the most popular of Australian nursery rhymes. Ms. Sinclair herself passed on about ten years ago, and never made mention of anybody's flute solo. The judge in this case backed Larrikin's assertion that Men at Work (who - may I say again?- have not had a hit in twenty-eight years) stole the tune without permission for their four-bar instrumental, and that they did so in an effort to capitalize on its innate Australian-ness.

Colin Hay, the band's singer and the song's coauthor, put forward the defense that there may have been some similarities between "Down Under"'s flute bit and "Kookaburra Sits in the Old Gum Tree," but that it was an entirely subconscious homage to the children's tune. It's hardly a note-for-note copy either. It's similar, perhaps even a kind of variation on "Kookaburra," but it's hardly a straight-ahead theft. The band's flute player came up with the instrumental line after several improvisations. Not to mention, it's literally four bars. Marion Sinclair knew about it and never said a word.

Men at Work's defense was shot down, and was delivered a fatal blow by the fact that, in the video for "Down Under," the flute player is seen sitting in a tree. A gum tree? I have no idea. But it's a tree, he's sitting in it, and apparently that's good hard evidence in an Australian copyright case.

Poor Men at Work. Or should I say, poor men not at work. Lord knows what these Aussies are doing now. I admit that it is mainly nostalgia that has me so upset about this case, and which makes me talk about it with everyone I see. It was the 80's man! My most formative years. "Down Under" introduced me and so many American kids of my generation to the very idea of Australia - WAY before Crocodile Dundee made it cool. (By the way, it's ironic that I never knew the lyrics to "Down Under" until now. I might not be so especially nostalgic for the song if I'd known back then that it was about dudes puking and vegetable spread. At age five, I really thought it was an epic tale of manhood and adventure. My mistake. But throw-up jokes and other terrible lyrics aside, this is still an important song that merits our support!)

And it's not like the band went on to be the next INXS or... um... whatever Aussie bands went on to have long-term international success. Can't actually think of any but... But please let these guys keep the money from their one worldwide hit twenty-eight years ago! Why didn't you Larrikin guys sue back then before they'd spent any of their money, huh? As Colin Hay said in his reaction statement, "what has won today is opportunistic greed. ... This ruling will have lasting repercussions, and I suspect not for the better."

Fight on Men at Work. Appeal!

ONE NIGHT ONLY

Tuesday October 27th, 8pm (yes, you're right - that IS also John Cleese's birthday.)

WILLIAM and the TRADESMEN at Ars Nova.
511 West 54th Street (btw. 10th and 11th Avenues)
Written and Performed by Eli James
Directed by Francesco Campari
(Viva Francesco, and his well-deserved artist's visa!)

Stage Manager: Patricio Witis (ditto, Pato!)
Lighting, Sound, Graphics Design: Bill Stonehouse (Long live Bill and people with exceedingly English surnames!!!)

TICKETS still avail, but going fast: WM and the TM at Ars Nova

ARS NOVA Interview with Eli James - re: WILLIAM and the TRADESMEN

ANT FEST CHAT:

Five Questions with Eli James from William and the Tradesmen.

Q: What is William and the Tradesmen? (In ten words or less.)

A: A show about a man, not a one-man show.

Q: What was the inspiration behind calling on Joe Strummer, Morrissey, and Paul Weller for guidance? (They don't exactly seem like model therapists...)

A: Over the last few years, I spent lot of time in the shower thinking to myself about the biographies of my rock heroes. In an effort to work out why I was so unhappy, dissatisfied, disappointed, I would stand there, talking to myself, going over the details of the rise to fame of guys like Weller, Strummer, Morrissey, etc. I then analyzed what I knew or thought I knew about their personal lives: their families, their romances, their substance problems. I then thought about what they would say about my standing there that long in the shower. Finally I said to myself - "Jesus Christ I know a WAYYY too much about these guys." A show was born.

Q: Who have you been listening to most this month, as you prepare for the show?

A: The Beatles.

Q: Can you think of any up and coming NY bands or musicians who are picking up where The Clash, The Smiths and The Jam left off?

A: Every single fucking one of them. (And that's without knowing any of them. I don't listen to other up and coming New York musicians. Yet I know it's true.)

Q: What other ANT FEST show are you looking forward to?

A: The one where the guy does the thing with the other guy, and then that girl says something, and then they all sing that ironic song? Can't remember what it's called but I hear it's great.

WILLIAM and the TRADESMEN at Ars Nova

Where: Ars Nova - 511 W. 54th Street (at 10th Ave) - NYC
When: Tues Oct 27th, 8pm - ONE NIGHT ONLY!
How much: $10

I am thrilled that Ars Nova will be presenting the latest staging of my one-man show, "WILLIAM and the TRADESMEN," directed by Francesco Campari.

Francesco has insisted I stop calling it a one-man show. "It is not a one-man show. A one-man show is an organ grinder playing Springsteen songs on the street corner. This - is a show about a man. And that man is called William."

I think that pretty much proves I have the greatest director in the world. And the most Italian.

Reasons enough to come see the show - part of Ars Nova's much-lauded ANT Fest (All New Talent Fest) - assembling thirty artists over five weeks to present the best of new original works.

Tickets only $10. Grab them now at: William and the Tradesmen Tix

Okay, so, anniversaries are silly... except for this one.

40 years ago today, a little-known channel called BBC1 aired a little known comedy show called "Monty Python's Flying Circus." At ten o' clock on a Sunday.

It began with a little-known man, with a barely-seen face, crawling out of the sea at Poole Harbour, Dorset.

Gervais and Merchant look back on Python

Cross-Pollination show at Pianos - Tues Oct 13th at 8pm!

Very excited about my Cross-Pollination debut with songwriter Hailey Wojcik!

Me at 8, Hailey at 9, and then the two of us together for a 3-song orgy of sound.

8pm Tues Oct 13th - 158 Ludlow Street - Upstairs - FREE!

Please have a preview!
My Music on Myspace

Hailey Wojcik's Music on Myspace

The Wall

This goes out to the girl reading my blog who's been encouraging me to kill myself: I HAVE RECENTLY BEEN MADE HAPPY BY MY WALLS.

.. the walls of my apartment, which I've spent a lot of time staring at of late. However, what makes these walls different from the walls I usually stare at is that I have been staring in order to pick a color to put on them. These are not the walls I stare at inadvertently while contemplating the meaninglessness and tedium of my life, which makes a nice change.

I put this color on ONE of them.



I mean, yes, okay, the edges of the wall make it look like my apartment was painted by a ten-year-old boy, aided possibly by his eight-year-old friend, and that instead of taping the edges, they ran Hot Wheels dipped in paint across them.

But when I look straight at the center, I feel happy. I feel like I'm staring into the deep blue sea. Well, actually, that's wrong. It looks much more like blue cake icing than the ocean. It's a nice old Blue #12, "To Our All-Star Son!" icing. Maybe that's why I like it. I have always been soothed by sweets and confection. Huh - happy accident.

Now that I went to the terrible trouble of putting this color on the one wall, and it's connected ceiling beam, I'm not so sure i want to paint the rest of the walls. And that's not just 'cause I'm lazy and it's harder than I thought it would be (up and down that bleedin' ladder...) but more because I like having a white apartment with one blue side.

If I wasn't such a shortsighted fool, I would not have put dozens of "test squares" all over the place. I've got four different shades of blue in misshapen one-foot squares on every wall in the apartment.



(Look to your right. Those are all over the joint.)

And now I've either got to cover them up with paint, or try to pass them off as modern art.

I don't think anyone will buy the latter. Even if they did, I wouldn't buy it - and I'm trying to recognize the little man inside my head as a legitimate voice that sometimes has good ideas.

I already bought a gallon of a DIFFERENT shade of blue, which I'd planned to put on the other walls, but I think that might be a mistake. However, I don't have the money to buy another gallon of paint, so I am now asking anyone out there who has white paint left over from any old projects to send it to me.

Please pour into an envelope and send to:

'BLACKMAIL
BEHIND THE HOT WATER PIPES
THIRD WASHROOM ALONG
VICTORIA STATION'

(did I mention I'm also inexplicably HAPPY about the upcoming 40th Anniversary of:

?)

Ho! Take that, suicide girl. Depressive nerd gettin' happy over here over a little thing called October 5th!

NOW who's maladjusted?