Oktomatic Seattle!

Friends, my love affair with the Oktomat camera is in full bloom. It's little more than a tiny plastic camera, but it takes 8 small photos on one 35mm negative over the course of 2.5 seconds. I've been sleeping with it under my pillow since I bought it a month ago, but I finally got to put it to good use on my recent trip to Seattle. Shortly I will regale you all with my recent exploits out West, but 'til then, please enjoy my Oktomatic expose entitled "Oktomatic Seattle!"

P.S. Yes, you may have noticed that my trip to Seattle involved some hardcore Twin Peaks-related tourism. I am unashamed. In fact, there's more to come! (evil laugh...)

Beans!

I love America, but one area we've totally blown it in is beans. This is how it's done. Rock over London. Beans, the breakfast of champions...

Why Atco?

When I occasionally step off my Learjet for an iced coffee and whatnot, people outside of New Jersey often ask, "Whaz up with Atco?"

After my "handlers" rough these people up, I usually spit on the pathetic loser as he or she begs to their God, curled up in the fetal position. But I've come to realize I've been too hard on these ignorants whose knowledge of New Jersey stretches no further than having seen a few episodes of The Sopranos. So here, at long last, is a primer on Atco, New Jersey and the special place it holds in the heart of Canadian Invasion.

Atco, New Jersey is a town of roughly 15,000 people located about 15 miles outside of Philadelphia. with beautiful pine trees, a motorsports drag strip, and an abandoned record factory among its charms. While I never lived within the borders of Atco, I've smelled the fresh pine, seen a man blow up his car (with him in it) for the amusement of young children (see clip below), and marveled at the erie factory where old vinyl rots in waterlogged boxes.



But by far the most intriguing part of Atco is the legend of the Atco Ghost. The many quests out into the pines to see this ghost appear on a lonesome highway embody something about South Jersey, something I still can't quite articulate. When we were putting together our Songs for the Atco Ghost record in rural Viriginia, the backroads that led to the studio reminded us of Atco, and the ghost, and all the other artifacts, good, bad, and indifferent, that connected to our youth in South Jersey.

So even though we're now filthy rich rockstars living in 31st floor goldplated hotel suites, there are some neat signposts of where we came from. Despite all the occult rituals that come with being a successful rock 'n' roller, I'll always cherish those nights in search of the Atco Ghost.

P.S. Atco is also featured in the greatest movie ever: Eddie & The Cruisers. I have a great Atco-related Eddie story to tell you, but you'll have to ask me about it in-person--it's not school appropriate :)

Hi!

Since I firmly believe that blogging is a unheard of endeavor sure to catch on some day and offer a brand new kind of cultural discourse, I, Andy Canadian, give you this, the new internet home for my whining about the death of American culture (as if the whining in my music wasn't bad enough).

Much in the same way Harold Bloom argues that all great writers consciously situate themselves on a continuum with the great writers of the past, I too have looked for blog inspiration:

Inspiration

Coincidently, I should note that "Continuum" is the name of John Mayer's latest record. There will be copious John Mayer slagging off in this blog. I titled one of my songs "Standing on the Shoulders of the Carcass of John Mayer" after all.

So hopefully, my incendiary prose has left you you titillated beyond all reason. Do yourself a favor: take a deep breath, fix yourself a white Russian (or another appropriate alcoholic or non-alcoholic drink), and prepare for a guided tour of the cultural end of days...