# Zero With a Bullet

VINYL FORMAT. 'Have you ever gone from Berlin to Tasmania? From the Klutina River in Alaska down to San Francisco via Honolulu, Austin, and Frogmore, South Carolina? All in one album? Not knowing where to next? Well, that's where I've been and where I'm trying to get. The great not knowing. . . like a wind that's blowing, rolling. . . "Wherever you go, then there you are." The holy unforgiving blacktop sanctuary has become a wife and family to me. This is the seventh installment in a series of words put to soundscape which paints the picture of my life. Jobs, love affairs, battles with bottles and so on. # Zero with a Bullet. The title - yeah, I know where I stand in the game. Doesn't mean I'm not gonna keep playing. I didn't think I had another song in me, but here we go again. They just crept up and wouldn't leave me alone; wouldn't let me sleep! I don't even know where the hell they came from or remember how they got here. These goddamned songs! This album is chock full of Yogi Berra-isms, shattered Kerouacian dreams, "Air Conditioned Nightmares," beer bellies, big belt buckles, cowboy monkeys, and an extremely subtle bloody human sacrifice. It's a reflection of broken hearts and busted wallets. Carolina moons and the process of lightning striking the fire from a tree. There's an overzealous job boss talking down to his employees, and his crew holds him hostage in the end. And all the while, a lonely barefoot stripper is so bored with her job, cursing her customer's neediness - "like little birds in the nest, waiting to be fed, just babies in their momma's eyes," she said. On the good side of sanity. I gotta thank Team Love again for picking up the tab for this recording. I did it at a nice studio in Omaha, NE called ARC (Another Recording Company) with A.J. Mogis in July 2009. His beard was in full effect. It only took us two hours. Just kidding. I thought he did a wonderful job and several friends of old and new met up to eat popcorn and play. I tried to throw in everything from the kitchen sink, but threw out what wouldn't work. So, in the end, the sink had just a couple dirty knives and a broken spatula covered in dried-up eggs. The meal was good though and the eggs were fresh from the back yard in east Austin - yolks as orange as the sun. I remember seeing a man on the street ranting and raving drunkenly in Camden Locks, London. An acquaintance of mine said "he's always Jesus from twelve to six, then he's Beelzebubba from six to midnight!" I understood completely. I'm forty this year - can you believe that? They say forty is the new twenty, right? Well, hell. . . it's not a death march. . . it's a life march. Gotta live it up now. . . number ones and zeros. Look through the screen and what does it tell you? I'll be the zero - # Zero with a Bullet!' - David Dondero