From the “I’m a temporarily a publicity whore/Have I mentioned my book comes out March 2?” file, here’s an interview that I did with the New York Press that covers the book, Lent, celebrity sightings, cocaine and Rosario’s. So, some things I like, some things I really like, and some things…meh.

(And hey, if I’m going to keep pimping myself and the book here, give me credit for at least trying to make it as interesting as possible, right?)

(Right?)

(Forget it.)

Let’s just get into some music on this Friday, eh?

Six Songs

“Free Energy” Free Energy
Holy shitballs.

Seriously, holy shitballs.

It’s only February, but I’m almost ok with declaring this my 2010 theme song. Balls out party rock at its finest (and they’re from Philly! – though I don’t know them). They have a three-song EP on iTunes right now. I suggest you buy it, then email me immediately to say it’s the best $2.49 you’ve spent in years, and possibly ever. Because if this stuff doesn’t get you out of your seat, clapping your hands and pumping your fists (though not at the same time – that would be impossible), you, my friend, are dead. Both to me and probably literally.

“Don’t Forget Me” Neko Case
I’m a little biased, because I love Neko Case. But dang, this song, a Harry Nilsson cover, is just so purdy. I don’t know many lyricists or singers who can drop “cancer” in a line and pull it off, making you feel all warm and happy and love love love.

“Secret Heart” Ron Sexsmith
I knew this song, and was vaguely aware of this guy, but never really got into him until recently – and early returns are very good. Sensitive, slightly effeminate, and Canadian – all things that I love or aspire to be.

(And yes, I just watched the “Elvis Costello: Spectacle” episode featuring, among others, Neko Case and Ron Sexsmith.)

(Also, what’s the origin of the name “Sexsmith”? For example, I think that a “smith” in someone who works in or with something, kinda like a goldsmith works in gold or a silversmith works with silver. So does a sexsmith work in sex? Or, better, a blacksmith work in blacks? Inquiring minds…)

“I Can Drink Any Woman Pretty” Todd Snider
Because I live in what is more or less a hotel room, all of my guitars are stored at my dad’s house in Philly. However, this humorous country ditty (whose title is pretty much self-explanatory) makes me want to go back there and get one so I can play this song to my friends when we’re sitting around someone’s apartment fucked up. Favorite lines: “Now I admit at first I didn’t even want that woman near me/Hell, she looked like she’d been beaten up with a rake/But as I gulped down another round, I said, hey woman hang around/You’re getting’ better looking with every drink I take.”

“Long Hot Summer Night” Jimi Hendrix
Speaking of guitar, there were three things that I would have given ten years of my life to be able to do back when I was in high school. They are:

1) Have sex with any one of the approximately 4600 girls that I fell deeply in love with between 1993-1997.

2) Play the guitar fill that starts 1:45 into this song, right after Jimi sings, “And the telephone keeps on screaming!”

3) Seriously, even if I could have just kissed one of those 4600 girls that I fell in love with in high school, or got a good five minutes during which I could smell the hair of any one of them, I would have lopped at least four years off the end of my life, no doubt.

Alas, #1 and #3 never came to pass (the hair smelling in #3 came close, but I’m still not ready to talk about that particular sleepover party). And neither did #2, but I was closer to that – by far – than the other two.

“Little Secret” Passion Pit
Another fun anthem that’s becoming my go-to song when it’s the weekend and about 9pm and I’m in the shower, washing up and guzzling a vodka red bull (have I mentioned that I’m 30?). Looking forward to doing this very thing in just a few hours.

[Have a good weekend.]

My dad was a longshoreman and a mechanic. That’s what he did for a living before getting hurt at work and put on permanent disability (which now causes him to maintain a steady diet of pain pills; I’ve written it before, but you haven’t lived until you’re driving across the country with your dad in a giant Lincoln Town Car, he’s doing 85 on some desolate stretch in New Mexico, and he asks you to hand him an Oxycontin and Percocet, which he pops like Tic Tacs while he’s driving). My earliest memories of my dad are of him fixing cars, using tools, smoking cigarettes, answering knocks at the door from neighbors and friends having car troubles, smoking cigarettes, fixing more cars, repeat. His entire adult life (and I would guess, much of his life, period) has been dedicating to fixing things: taking them apart, learning how they work, and putting them back together – and getting his hands dirty in the process.

I, on the other hand, have never displayed any type of mechanical proclivities at all. I recently found a pre-K report card of mine, and it said I was bad at tying my shows, but good at expressing myself and during music time. To this day, I still tie my shoes with two loops (the “bunny ears” method) and don’t know the one loop standard method. About four weeks ago, I tried to learn how to tie a double-windsor knot. After an hour of finding instructions via Google and pouring over them, viewing countless YouTube clips, and an extremely frustrating ten minute phone conversation with a buddy (not to mention about 1500 expletives, most of them hybrids involving “cock” and “fuck-ass”), I failed, and got myself so enraged in the process that I don’t think my blood pressure has yet quite recovered. And though my hands are not quite feminine, due to my long, creepy fingers, they are always immaculately clean.

…read more…

First, thanks to all the kind words about the new site design. The consensus seems to be that, well, it’s lovely. And I agree. Like I said, there are some kinks that we’ll work out, but again, all thanks and praise to Site Guy Brendan and Kyle. They really brought it.

As for the book, here’s my lame attempt to answer some of the most common questions that I’ve gotten about it so far:

- Canada (etc): This has been a popular topic, as the book is listed on the Amazon.ca site, but without an official release date (as of this writing). However, I can confirm that the book will be out in Canada on March 2, just like in the US, so our neighbors to the north can feel free to pre-order as they so desire.

(For those of you who asked about it in the UK, I’m still looking into this, though it’s listed on the Amazon.co.uk site without a release date, as well. To be continued…)

- Kindle: A Kindle edition is “in the works,” but that’s all I know. If you check out the Amazon.com page for the book, below the picture of the cover there’s a link to click to tell the publisher you want to read the book on Kindle. So if you want to read it on Kindle, click there. Power to the people, baby.

…read more…

I’m headed to LA this afternoon, having moved by flight up seven hours to try to beat this snow. I’ll be there for a week, trying to press our interests there and eating a lot of Taco Bell (it’s really a shame that there aren’t more Taco Bells in NYC, and quite puzzling).

I’m rushing out of work now, but for a little light reading on this lovely Friday, go to TheRumpus.net to check out this interview I did with my former writing teacher (yes, I had a writing teacher) and excellent writer, Steve Almond, who, much to his surprise, ended up providing a lovely blurb for my book. See? It pays to not burn bridges with your old teachers, even if that tell you that, if they could have, they would have given you a nice C-.

[Have a good weekend.]

Dear Neighbor,

I know that we have not yet met, so allow me to introduce myself. My name is Jason Mulgrew, and I, too, am a resident of Ludlow Street. As a matter of fact, I live in the building right next to yours, and we share the same air shaft, that two foot space between buildings that gives some NYC apartments their distinct “view” (read: a brick wall that one can reach out of his or her window and touch).

And though we have yet to actually meet, we know each other. Or at least, we know of each other’s presence. I know you as the girl who sings at the top of her lungs several nights a week, at any time between 7pm and midnight, and really belts it out – very, very poorly. And you know me as the guy who opens his window, several nights a week, at any time between 7pm and midnight, and screams, “SHUT THE FUCK UP!” at you when you’re doing your singing (or what you believe is singing but what most people would call “making noises with your mouth and throat and lungs that sound really fucking awful and annoying”).

…read more…

Guys, I need a favor.

(Please don’t roll your eyes when I haven’t even asked yet, especially when it’s very simple.)

Friends of mine in Philly, Rose and Carl, are in the running for a free $90,000 wedding. Actually, to say they are in the running is not total complete; they are among the top ten finalists. And to win the grand prize, they need as many votes as they can get.

I know, I know – it’s unbecoming to beg. I normally wouldn’t ask, but there are a few things that make this situation unique:

1) There were 400-something couples that started in this process. There are now, as I said, ten left. So they have a real shot to actually win this thing.

…read more…

So, I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before, but I have a book coming out.

Yep, it’s there, over there on the right. And yes, that’s me on the cover. I know, I know – I had really great hair. And much better taste in clothes than I do now. So much promise, so very, very long ago.

(It should be noted that as I write this, I’m sitting on my couch in my boxers, staring at the wrapper of a carrot cake cupcake, having just recently beat off to a clip from RedTube entitled, “Sarah becoming mistress of fuck-fighting.” So there’s that. Poor kid.)

(And if you think I’m lying about any of this, come over my apartment right now and check. I’m not going anywhere.)

(And I’m realizing now that my editor’s going to be pissed. When I told him that I was about to introduce the book on the site, he said, “That’s great, Jason. But promise me you won’t use the phrase ‘fuck-fighting’ anywhere in the introduction.” Whoops.) …read more…