Glutenhead Spring Update and A Poem I Wrote Today
Hello!!! Open me <3
Hey welcome again to the glutenhead newsletter!!! Ben here. Just popping in today, I wanted to say this:
We finished our first single from our album!! Just finalized the mix last Sunday. It’s called The Dirt and it’s a big one. I sent an early version of it on a previous newsletter. It’s gotten a lot more… everything… since that version. We’ll put it out as soon as we can! Which means hopefully this summer. I played tin whistle on it. I love tin whistle. This is my favourite tin whistle video.
Speaking of this summer, we’re going on a mini tour! Will be in July, and we’re going to play Toronto (Lee’s Palace), Montreal, Ottawa, Hamilton, and then exploring the potential for Windsor, Waterloo, and London. Come see us play if you want!!
We’ve got almost all of the rest of the album (There’s A Crack In Everything) recorded. Have a bunch of work to do plopping this or that layer on top, messing with bleeps and bloops, chopping and contorting, etc. and then we’re going to mix them all with Alex Gamble (again)!!! The album is long as hell, probably like an hour. But as they say in France: it is what it is. It’s got bombastic explosive songs, softy grinny folky things, goofy stuff, passionate spiritual stuff, intimate existential tunes, whatever you want (actually moreso whatever I want). Will keep you updated as far as timeline on this thing!! It will be worth the wait!! Send me a message or email or something if you’re interested in hearing some of the stuff as we go and giving your feedback on it. Would be so great to get some fresh ears. ALSO if you play an instrument or something like that an wanna be on the album…. that’s cool let me know!! maybe we can find some parts for you to play on. Bonus if you can record at home.
Now, as promised, that poem I wrote today:
Fuzzy Blankets
Give me advice from the time of fuzzy blankness
Reading botles of wine on the toilet
I'm trying to make a connection
Before I was a sage I was a sadist
Before that, I was a drunk God
No inhibitions
Walking home on the treadmill
Using recipes from the internet for directions
Leading with those lingering precognitions
Loving me with their slime tails curling backwards
I said goodbye to my dream when I woke up this morning
“I'll see you later,” I also said
And I meant it
Nonetheless, I loath giving timeouts to my brainpets
For their sour attempts at consolation
But what must be done
Must be done
It's great to be in the middle
Of two velcro blankets
Both fuzzy, in different ways
Very snug
Now there is no question,
All the roofing tiles are absolutely beautiful
The houseplants in city hall told me
That they are all in awe at how the
Muzzlefaced burocrats look gorgeous right now, against this backdrop
Openchested brutes with their elegant loving and intentional slickness
Iconic pigeons, science fiction writers, garden tools, hard drives, and liars
As well as disgusting musical performances
All have at least one thing in common
The lovely boxes of bodies buzz between relatively weaker and stronger times
Buzzing on fuzzy blankets
Tugging on musty blankness
If you disregard the social implications, you can find meaning in any fruit
Or vegetable
But you won't, and I know that
Because you've never hurt your tail bone
Nor used your tail
And I apologize if I have you misrepresented
I often learn later that my premonitions are less prophecy and more trueish
In the fuzzy sense
And though my fuzzy mentors ignore me
Like they did when I was a drunk God
I know they care
Because I want them to
I asked for advice from the time of fuzzy blankets
The tangy scent of clean laundry reminds me of death
And will long outlive me
Sour cherry blasters melted in the dryer
I love the personality of most chairs
I simply adore their chutzpah
My conspiracy is that
Although we look as circles
Biped and upright
Lying sitting breaking dying birthing smiling standing
We are triangles, all of us
And everything that happens
Only does because
Some strange magic
I can feel you disregard this, your technical head all propped up and polished
Bear with me here
Can I offer you a tic tac?
Peculiar as it is, we are quite preoccupied, most of us
Pulling buckets of water from the river
To use for our projects
The water is always home for dinner, though
The God of water always has fresh breath
With all those nocturnal mints they eat
Those tic tacs, those lunatictacs
Nevertheless, what I mean to say is:
Give me advice from the fuzz (both sides, preferably)
Yesterday I suddenly realized I was at the midpoint of my life
27 years and 49 days old
On Monday, March 20, 2023
This all means that I'll die when I'm
54 years and 98 days old
On Sunday, May 8, 2050
I am free now in the second half
I should now lament the things I wish I knew
During my new moon
I should, but I am moving the other way
Baby baby goo goo
My advice for those in the first half
Is to learn the exact midpoint of your life
Therefore deducing the exact timing of your death
It will be easier to handle it all
You can also deduce the exact timing of your birth
If you don't already know
“I don't think so much about the old days so much anymore”
That's what I said to the pathologist gazing lovingly at my lazy meat
“Very good,” they said. “And what's next then?”
“It's alright,” I said. “I'll manage.”