Blue j 707 is/was more of a project than a band. I write poetry. At the behest of Squash Blossom Records, (Alison Lewis (who happens to be super-genious, madly talented, and rediculously beautiful); and Blue, (who also happens to be super genious, madly talented, and only slightly less beautiful), I stood in a closet, lined with a Pooh blanket, and recited poetry into a microphone for three and a half hours. Alison and Blue worked the knobs, (Blue worked the burritos). The resulting words went onto a hard-drive. From there, Blue downloaded them into his brain, and made the tracks that you hear on this album out of the ones he liked. Allison added vocals on tracks six, and eight, (which are *Mt. Everest and Relax!), and track 12, (the Ballad of Bobby Badass), was recorded in a different way, which I am not aloud to talk about, (except to say that through no fault of their own, Dustin Gardner, (of Shoe., (which has a new album out), and Jessica Ward, (who has a new baby out), ended up on this track. Rodney was also there, but I'm not sure if you can hear him, (he fell asleep in the middle)).Subsequent to recording these tracks, I started performing my poetry in earnest, but small ways, (on street corners, in bars & little theaters, and for no good reason at all). I have had the good fortune to "sit in" with freakishly talented musicians, (there are recordings out there, and if anybody finds them, I'd love to hear a copy), (the Brother's Groove; Hurm Sanford; Innerphonic; and way too many others to mention), (I got to do it because I waited tables and bartended at the Music Menu, in Detroit, for the last five and a half years of its too brief existence, (the place was the most unbelievable magnet for talent, not just musicians either, but holy crap! It was an intensely humbling job).
I came to Detroit for a weekend in November of 1990, and have essentially been on its couch ever since. This is a city that hides from itself, it is a city that lives on a reputation that no longer applies. It is a ghost town; (a town built for two million plus, with fewer than one million residents). A city so polorized, that the only grey here is the infra-structure, everything above the cement is black or white. Detroit is empty, but loud; nothing happens in plain view here, everything happens behind closed doors, in backrooms and basements... after reasonable hours. The thing is, if you are in New York, or L.A., everything happens out in the open. Everybody sees it, but somehow, even when you're there, you're a spectator. In Detroit, once you find it, you are so much a part of what is happening, you can be prosecuted.
Most of my time now is devoted to the fabulous Detroit rock band, Cowboy Messiah, (of which I am a member), (along with Tommy and Andrew). I don't know how informative that was, but it certainly went on much longer than I intended...Meet Cowboy Messiah
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