Tim Young Live at Sedona's Living Room Music Festival

July 2011 Update

What a scraggly long beard I've grown since my last entry. Time to shave it off.

Working, not working and working some more on my new draft of a book I'm putting together. First draft was a winner over at NaNoWriMo. The book is Writing With Wine. It's about a writer by the name of Henry Jackson who is searching for some peace in his life so that he might be able to hit the profound button on occasion during his writing sessions but there are two main obstacles by the name of Lizzie and Alice who are not exactly looking for the same kind of peace Henry is looking for.

I was going to take a road trip down to New Orleans but the heat wave this summer has forced my compass to point North so the road trip will be to Vermont and other New England destinations instead where ninety degrees is much more of a stranger. I wanted to get over to Austin, TX too but that trip will wait until the snow begins to blow around NYC.

I'm not going to write a book here and now but I wanted to touch base in these here parts once again. Anyway I'll definitely make the attempt to be back here with a few tidbits before the whiskers get the chance to bloom all over again.

THREE POEMS

 

 

 

THREE POEMS

Copyright 2010 by

Tim Young

 

 

 

# 1

 

if i put the pen in the flame

the damn thing will melt

dropping black ink

into the yellow heat

 

so small but so hot

capable of major injury and harm

but will i be careless

I don’t think I choose that kind of pain

 

written in my blood

with split black ink

Bubbling and cooking my flesh

Damn pen

 

 

 

# 2

 

time to clean out the closet

the dust and unused books of directions

the funny photographs with the finger

in front of the lense

the lost pasta box with one strand

of thin spaghetti remaining

the birthday hat

converted to new years eve

in two thousand and five

 

i sneeze and curse the dirt

my fingertips begin their

transformation to grey

i cough and wipe my nose

on my dusty sleeve

memories spill to the floor

winding up in the tall green trash

making room for more

to touch and discard

time to clean out the closet

 

 

 

# 3

 

a positive note

sprayed the air

printed in the smallest type

but the message is clear

brightly fortissimo

shattering the gloom like glasses

plastered over the hillsides

lowsides and inbetween

bringing that unmistakable something

so usually unseen

not hiding but waiting

 

 

 

NEW YORK CITY

 

November 2010

 

     Hi.  Decided to share the latest poetry from my pen.

     Best, Tim.

 

 

 

Posted via email from Tim's posterous

Untitled

 

 

 

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THREE POEMS

 

Copyright 2010 by

 

Tim Young

 

 

# 1

 

if i put the pen in the flame

the damn thing will melt

dropping black ink

into the yellow heat

 

so small but so hot

capable of major injury and harm

but will i be careless

I don’t think I choose that kind of pain

 

written in my blood

with split black ink

Bubbling and cooking my flesh

Damn pen

 

 

 

# 2

 

time to clean out the closet

the dust and unused books of directions

the funny photographs with the finger

in front of the lense

the lost pasta box with one strand

of thin spaghetti remaining

the birthday hat

converted to new years eve

in two thousand and five

 

i sneeze and curse the dirt

my fingertips begin their

transformation to grey

i cough and wipe my nose

on my dusty sleeve

memories spill to the floor

winding up in the tall green trash

making room for more

to touch and discard

time to clean out the closet

 

 

 

# 3

 

a positive note

sprayed the air

printed in the smallest type

but the message is clear

brightly fortissimo

shattering the gloom like glasses

plastered over the hillsides

lowsides and inbetween

bringing that unmistakable something

so usually unseen

not hiding but waiting

 

 

 

NEW YORK CITY

 

November 2010

 

     Hi.  Decided to share the latest poetry from my pen.

     Best, Tim.

 

 

Posted via email from Tim's posterous

The Never Ending Paying of Dues

It's more difficult than I thought to begin this.  It's probably a familiar story to lots of musicians but

it never stops hitting a soft spot anyway.  Okay.  I lost another gig.  I've been performing here in the

Dive bars of Hell's Kitchen since the early nineties.  Dive bars don't always have the longest life expectancies

so some gigs evaporate like that.  But other Dive bars are more stable and have been around forever and

it is this situation of losing a Dive that just happened to me.

 

It is the constantly changing 'landscape' of people involved with these bars that brought this specific

ending down to me.  A bar manager who I have had a good relationship with for several years has just

vanished.  He would book me into this bar the third Sunday of each month; it was a paying gig too.

But this past Sunday as I walked into the bar, carrying my guitar and pushing my small amp on a

handtruck, I was struck with the hard news. The bouncer told me  my manager friend is now fired, I would not receive  my

fifty bucks for the gig, I would have to pay for the beer I drink and I was going to have to wait for the Sunday

night football game to end before I could begin.  He was at least a foot taller than me, as if I didn't feel smaller already.

 

I wasn't going to cancel the gig because I wasn't getting paid.  One the day of a performance I spend the

majority of my time rehearsing and focusing on performing.  Preparing.  I had also worked particularly hard

the week leading up to my date posting the gig on line and passing out flyers at all the neighborhood joints.

So then my son arrives pushing the PA in on another hand truck.  We decide to begin the set up right away

regardless of the football game.  Besides, none of my people had yet arrived, which plainly exposed only

the bartender and two other customers watching the game.  After we had the set up prepared, which

doesn't take long because I am a solo act, the bartender began to warm up to the idea and so threw out

the part about waiting for the football game to end.  It was still early in the third quarter.  She was concerned

because she had only begun this job and had just finished a conversation with the owner when I arrived.  It

was the owner who told her not to pay me or give me a beer.  Not her idea.  The owner never has spoken with me.

 

Now it's moving close to eleven pm.  My people are coming into the bar and buying drinks.  If I hadn't been

scheduled to play there would have probably been two people in the whole joint.  I brought in about twenty,

which is a lot.  I began my set.  It was difficult in my head those first few songs.  Everything seemed so

surreal; out of place.  But the support from my friends helped turn my head around and so I was able to knock

out my usual high energy show.  One of the best moments of the night, for me, was seeing that I had won

over the bartender as she threw a dollar into the  tip pail we had set up.  I decided during my set to just go ahead

and play one long extended show instead of taking a break in the middle.  I didn't think it a good idea to stop

the train once it was rolling; I might receive another ultimatum. 

 

Once the show had ended most of my friends went home.  A couple remained to play a game of pool.  I did too

because the bartender decided to buy me a drink.  A big deal on a night such as this.  My son and I then packed up

our stuff and headed for the door.  The juke box hadn't come back on.  It was so quiet now I could hear the cue ball

run on the table.  I thanked the bartender for the beer but as we walked through the door to the sidewalk we cursed

the place.  Another joint in the dust.  Another time not knowing when the next gig will be and that's the feeling I

simply will never get used to.  The never ending paying of dues.

 

I decided not to go with specific names and places in here  because I wasn't quite comfortable with that idea.

But I wanted to tell this story; another day in the life of an independent player.  I have to say though, it sure

would be nice if every now and then these 'surprises' turned out to be something good.

Posted via email from Tim's posterous

Upcoming Solo Tim Young Dates

Hey. Hey.

Despite word to the contrary The Bull Moose Saloon is having me back.

There was a moment there but it seems to have faded almost as quickly

as it appeared.  Sunday July 18th at 10:30pm.  354 W. 44th St.

Tim Young.  Solo Loco.  Rock, Pop, Lust.

A new Ding Dong Lounge date will be posted ASAP. 

Ding Dong is located on Columbus Ave. between 105th and 106th.

Then to get September rolling Tim will open at a new pub in Astoria.

Daly's Pub.  31-86 31st St.  Near Broadway.

Two sets on Sunday September 12th.  That evening.

Exact times coming right up.

Thanks all for your support!

Posted via email from Tim's posterous

June Dates for Tim

Hi.  Two energy packed Solo Loco Tim Young gigs taking place

this June.

 
First up is June 20th at the Bull Moose Saloon.  That's 10PM.

The Moose is a great bar in Hell's Kitchen.  Pool table too.

The 20th is a Sunday night.  Bull Moose is at 354 W. 44th St.  Near 9th ave.

Next up is the Sunday next, or the 27th at the Ding Dong Lounge.

Ding Dong is located at 105th and Columbus ave.  9PM.

Cool candle lit bar with plenty of cheap beers.

There is no cover or minimum at either venue.  Only the high energy

original Rock n Roll from Solo Loco.

Thanks.

Posted via email from Tim's posterous

Press Release

Hi.  If you have ended up here from a click on the link in the latest

Tim Young press release, great.  All my gigs are posted here along

with links to my music.  If you go to timrocksweb.com you will find

music from all three of my releases.  Entire tracks too, not just samples.

You can also check out the other stuff i have posted here.  Videos, some of

the other writing I do, etc.  Enjoy.  Please leave a comment.

Thanks a lot.

Posted via email from Tim's posterous