“Religion easily has the greatest bullshit story ever told. Think about it. Religion has actually convinced people that there’s an invisible man living in the sky who watches everything you do, every minute of every day. And the invisible man has a special list of ten things he does not want you to do. And if you do any of these ten things, he has a special place, full of fire and smoke and burning and torture and anguish, where he will send you to live and suffer and burn and choke and scream and cry forever and ever ‘til the end of time!

……But He loves you.”

-George Carlin 1937-2008

So here’s the thing: I’m splitting. I’ve lived in the New Haven area all my life and now it’s time for me to be somewhere else. That somewhere else is New York City. A few years ago if you asked me about New York, I’d say what a lot of people say, “Nice place to visit.” Well, I’ve been spending a lot of time there in the past year and I, like so many others, have been wooed by it’s hideous, beautiful charms.

In fact, just the other night I was downtown, sitting on some stone steps with a beautiful lady and we were looking at the Statue of Liberty and I think we both said in unison, “I love it here.” Or maybe it was, “I hate it here.” I can’t remember, but that’s kind of the point of New York. You love it, it hates you back. You hate it, it loves you back. It’s one of the strangest, most passionate, most dysfunctional relationships that we’re able to experience and I need it. Though unlike many of the relationships I’ve had with humans over the years, New York doesn’t bullshit you. It’ll let you know just what it thinks of you and it is not afraid to break your spirit right in half. You have to respect that sort of honesty.

I’m not leaving New Haven in a huff. In fact, it seems silly to even say I’m leaving New Haven because I know I’ll be back again and again. My family and friends are here. And let me tell you, New York pizza can be an awfully tasty snack, but New Haven pizza is an elegant meal that can never and will never be beat or duplicated. Most of you know how important pizza is to me, so you know you’ll see me again on Wooster Street or at Modern. There is no way around it. New Haven is a sweet place. It’s been mostly good to me and I will not forget it.

OK, now the important stuff:

Come say “So Long” to me on Thursday, July 17th at every one’s favorite rock and roll bar, Cafe 9 on State Street in New Haven. I’ll be doing a big, juicy solo set, but maybe if I ask nicely, I can convince Chris Zollo to break out his keys and play a few tunes with me. Chris has played many, many Mercy Choir shows with me and I can assure you, when the two of us are on stage together, the pleasure is all mine. Also playing that night is my dear friend Frank Critelli, the guy who has been more encouraging and supportive to my music than anyone else in my life. He makes me want to keep writing songs. I’m also a tremendous fan of Monitor and the Merrimac and Ponybird. They’ll be playing too and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I think it’s gonna be fun and it’ll be great to see everybody. I hope you’ll stop by.
I’ll be getting more details about this show and I’ll keep you posted.

More stuff:

Saturday, July 5th
Mercy Choir @ Parkside Lounge
Manhattan, NY
9pm
——————————-
I have some new Mercy Choir music recorded and it’s going to be released in (I feel) a very interesting (and free) way. New Dead Language artists are coming and they are also looking forward to  filling your ears with great sounds.

-paul

“I moved to New York City for my health. I’m paranoid and it was the only place where my fears were justified.”
- Anita Weiss
 
“The present in New York is so powerful that the past is lost.”
- John Jay Chapman 

“Young singers ask me, “Do I have to live in New York?” I say, “You can live wherever you want-as long as people think you live in New York.”
- Benita Valente

Sorry I’ve been so quiet lately. Lots of changes here in Dead Language Records headquarters, but I assure you, there are many announcements to come.

One can acquire everything in solitude - except character. -Marie Henri Beyle (1783 - 1842)