Day 942 - Interview

Thanks to George Lenker & Masslive.com, here's an interview we conducted about my 2 new records! Click anywhere HERE to read.

Day 913 - Dear Emilia, I love flying with you.

They are all eating a continental breakfast. Everyone on my side of the plane, at least.

It appears to be a hyper-sugared granola

a couple of pastries that look like the two guys that thought they were gonna get there but at 5AM are merely commiserating as they arrived. Alone, together.

There's an out of place assortment of grapes straight from the hands of the Romans that sold Vesta for a couple of acres of Monsanto's land.

A flute of milk. Wait. Yes, that's accurate.

Everyone is eating it.

Everyone but me.

I'm reading about the dragon lady from Game Of Thrones. A show I don't like. And the opening of the article yells about Emilia the Dragon Lady cruising the Santa Monica Pier in an Air-Conditioned SUV, dressed in pastels from Prada and American Apparel. And I have a glass of water. Not plastic, glass. Actually, a goblet. A Goblet Of Water with the goddamn Dragon Lady in pastels in an AC'd SUV on the Santa Monica Pier.

I am First Class.

First time ever. On my 100th flight. I counted last night when I couldn't sleep. Business class a ton. Economy even more. Never First.

My brother flies frequently for work. So he passed along his frequency to me, because I am too poor to afford any ticket. So I go, from Massachusetts to Arizona.

My brother moved to Arizona in 2004. But I'm not going to see him. Though he's my one of my favorite people, ever. I'm flying first class, to Chicago, then Phoenix, to see my parents. They moved to Sun City West in September of 2012. Now it's July 2015. And Emilia and I are flying to see them. Well, my Mom specifically. The Dragon Lady is driving the SUV to the desert from The Pier. She's completely dolled to the teeth in pastels, on route to see my Mom with me and my Goblet Of Water.

Because my Mom has cancer.

I don't want continental breakfast. I have another early flight. It also serves breakfast. I ordered it anyway, though. Because I decided to give it away. No, not to some veteran in the back. Or some wayward-looking, gaunt child in 32C. Just to some unsuspecting gent who is awake.

"You hungry?"

"I am, actually"

He has a Kansas City Chiefs jersey on. His early onset grey glinting in the checkered sunrise that shoots through the only open window shade. Everyfuckingbody else back here is asleep.

"I don't want this. Do you?"

"Sure, thanks!"

I turned to walk back to my seat and quietly

"Hey"

"Yeah?"

"Can't you get in trouble for this?"

"Oh yeah!"

"And you're not worried?"

I took a fairly deep breath, for me.

"Worried? Emilia the pastel wearing, dragon racing, cancer killing, SUV driving beauty can't be stopped. She gave me a goblet of water. And to you? Monsanto's Namesake."

His face was predictably crooked.

Pretty sure I'm getting no-fly-listed when we land.

Worth it.

Day 889 - NEW SONG!

New song alert!

A VERY ROUGH mix of a new song from the forthcoming *White Flood* record. CLICK HERE TO LISTEN FOR FREE!

Recorded by Joel Stroetzel.

Mark Schwaber - throat, guitars, bass, drums

Joel Stroetzel - keyboards

Remember, there's still a lot of work to do on this one, sonically. Hope you enjoy!

All shares and comments are GREATLY appreciated!

xoxo

Day 888 - 15 years of sound

Hi all,

I finally have one place that houses nearly all of the music (of my own) that I made for the 15 years between 1993-2008.

CLICK HERE to access all of these things, cheaply.

home. - my band from 1993-1995. For the first time ever, the original 5 song demo and another 8 previously unreleased songs are now available at this site, and only at this site! A mere $9.99!

hospital. - my band from 1996-2001. I made a compilation of songs from our 2 releases, hospital. (1996) and 16 Endings (1999). Only $6.99!

My 3 solo albums - Two Years And Thirty Minutes (2004 - $7.99), The Killing Card (2006 - $7.99), and the previously unreleased Those You Trust (2008 - $9.99)

Any and all support is so greatly appreciated!

Keep an eye out for a round of shows this Fall, I'd love to see you all out and about.

xoxo

Day 748 - Preview from "White Flood"

Here's a link to a VERY ROUGH MIX of a song from my forthcoming album "White Flood"

The Last Illumination

Just click anywhere on this text to listen now for free.

Hope all is well!

Day 730 - 2 years

2 years clean and sober today.

2 years ago today, I was on the 4th floor at Cooley Dickinson. It was my first full day without any alcohol in my system in slightly over a month. I weighed 146 pounds (195 today), had trouble walking, and would shake for a good 3 weeks after that. It was my 2nd time in exactly 1 year that I hadbeen in this position. This time, I had decided to kill myself with it. I did not want to die, but I just couldn't take the physical and emotional pain any longer. The 1st time this happened, I barely survived. I would make sure I didn't survive this one.

I was a decimated shell.

After a turn of events that allowed me to see that I wasn't nearly as alone on this earth as I thought, I was granted the opportunity to truly face myself. My entire self. And it was not easy. I had to fight every single moment, for nearly a month, just to keep from breaking down in tears all day. 6 or 7 times a day was bad enough.

I still get sad. About things I no longer have, about the experiences that are now just distant moments. Sad about the fact that the last 3 years might as well have been 15. Sad that I seemingly lost Scooter a set of lifetimes ago. Today is one of those days. Today, I am sad.

I say this because invariably, these days happen to everyone. No matter their path. It's the one web we all share. Suffering.

And here's the rub.

In my wildest, most fragmented heart, I find a deep unadulterated beauty in that. It makes me smile. It makes things warm, safe, and whole. Not at all because I am somehow happy that others deal with this shit too, that's not it at all. This is an individual peace. One that comes from a place that maybe only a few of us that are crazy enough to ride the ride to the edge can appreciate.

I promise you this. No matter what you're worried about. Seriously, no matter what it is, I promise you this. You will BE.

Yes, you will BE.

And for this realization, I am forever grateful.

I love the bitter, gorgeous, stagnant, vivid, annoying, hilarious, fucked up, wondrous, pathetic, beautiful ride that I am on. With so many people that I so deeply love. And I love how deeply appreciative I am for all of those that love me the same way, in turn. And I love all of the stunning music, art, film, and books that I get to be surrounded by. I get to create. All the time. And I love watching sports with people I love. And I get to share my story with small groups of those in the midst of deep, dark suffering. Weekly. Nothing I have would be possible if it were not for the subject matter of this paragraph. Nothing.

I don't ever plan on moving forward in life. I don't like that thought. Never have. That 'onward and upward' thing. It's not for me. I love the circles. Concentric and overlapping. I love that I get to float around here, in this mortal coil, for a bit.

That's why it is OK that I am sad today. And it's OK if you are too.

Just BE.

I'll see you in one of the circles.

All love, always.

M

PS - I don't have any answers, but I definitely have a conversation. If you need, don't hesitate. My door (message box) is always open.

Day 772 - That one time, at band camp.

All three of my solo records (including the previously unreleased "Those You Trust") are now available for the first time ever, on this website.

Just click here for the Bandcamp page!

xoxo

Day 714 - Those You Trust

Post by Mark Schwaber.

Day 706 - God Sleeps

Listen to God Sleeps (the first single from my record from 2008 "Those You Trust" by clicking here!

All shares are greatly appreciated!

Day 692 - 2008's Unreleased record "Those You Trust" available in full on Soundcloud

This is the only place you'll find this record, folks. Just click here! Hope you enjoy!

Day 680 - Wreckage Game

Ballad time. Another new (old) song from 2008's unreleased "Those You Trust".

CLICK HERE TO HEAR "WRECKAGE GAME"

Mark Schwaber - vocals, guitars

Joel Stroetzel - guitars

Ken Maiuri - piano

JJ O'Connell - drums, percussion

Paul Kochanski - bass

Sara Gomes - vocals

Day 678 - New website coming soon?

Hi all,

I'm hoping to have an official website up and running again soon. Thanks to the wonderful Matthew Larsen. Until then, please feel free to *like* this page if you wish to have access to constantly updated news about music, shows, recording, online music, and writing.

Click here to follow along!

Day 677 - As You Were

CLICK HERE to hear another unreleased song from 2008.

"As You Were"

Day 668 - Those You Trust

As promised, here's another unreleased song. From 2008's unreleased record "Those You Trust", here's the title track. Listen now for free by CLICKING HERE.

Mark Schwaber - vocals, guitars, bass, drums Ken Maiuri - keyboards Sara Gomes - vocals

Feel free to share away! Let me know what you think.

Cheers!

Day 665 - The Silent Rounds

I will be releasing a new song from this unreleased record every couple of days, so stay tuned!

Hi all,

I'm so unbelievably appreciative of how patient you've been with the release of my new record. It appears that we will wrap it up within the next two months.

In the interim, I've decided to release my previously unreleased record from 2008 entitled "Those You Trust" on Soundcloud. There are already 3 songs from the record on that site (Revelation Day One, To Be Better, Let It Lead You). This is the 4th. "The Silent Rounds".

CLICK HERE TO LISTEN!

Day 525 - The Fisher King and The Moral Minority

Just revisited The Fisher King for the first time in, what must be, nearly two decades. It's such a monumental victory across the board. Bridges (who, at this point, must be considered my favorite actor. Alongside Oldman), Williams, Ruhl, and Michael Jeter (also forgot that Tom Waits makes a bad ass cameo) are simply wonderful. The writing is so aware, so real, and so wise without being pretentious. The cinematography and direction are a dreary pitch perfect. It's one of the most loving things ever captured on film. It should be shown during the studies of empathy in Psych classes. It's depth, mid-Atlantic.

Of course, it stirs very deep pools for me. There are substantial parts of who I am that can relate to numerous elements of every character. And a portrait of my own growth (at least that's how I perceive it). There's the derision of mental illness, the subtle monster of the illness itself, the suicidal inclinations, the unbridled fantasy world, the deep hatred of humanity, the addictive solution, love forsaken and pursued, hilarious antidotes, the calm knowing voice of altruistic reason, and the seemingly endless pursuit of peace. And that's only a small selection of notions captured. It's a film that resonates at a higher frequency.

So, I find myself still reflecting on Robin Williams. It hasn't really ended, just taken on a different shape. Because his life, and death, were far too complicated for a twitter worthy world of here today, gone in an hour (anyone remember the 200 Kenyan women? Yeah, exactly). I've had some really great discussions about the man himself, and the subjects that he continues to raise (like any great figure) from beyond the grave. Many in depth, articulate, and even punchy moments. None finer than this. Sent from someone incredibly important to me. I print it here anonymously, as I feel it applies to everyone on a organically profound level. I hope you allow yourself to read this openly. And most importantly, with empathy.

"The problem is pretty simple, IMHO. The society views the artists and creative types as weak, and rolls their eyes when they hear we're depressed, tell us to buck up and get a job.

Meanwhile, the truly mentally ill- the soulless, value-less, the sociopaths march happily through business school and unleash their shit world-view on everyone. Those lucky enough to be too dumb or unobservant, just nod their little bobble-heads and chant, "Well, that's the way it is so we gotta do it, derpy derpy doo!"

Meanwhile it grinds on the more astute, who eventually grow weary, and, being decent folk realize they kind of can't go sticking steak knives in the aforementioned sociopath's temples. Bad form and all that. So they say, "Fuck it. Give me the pills" or whatever.

We're encouraging mental illness. We're curing sanity."

Day 513 - My Gentle Companion.

I cried for hours when Miles Davis died. And for a good ten minutes when Elliott Smith left us. But that's about it for those that I never knew. I do remember feeling morose when people like Philip Seymour Hoffman passed. And Hank Gathers. Len Bias. Walter Matthau. Burgess Meredith. But never tears. Just Miles and Elliott.

When I was young, going to the movie theater was a magical romp. I loved absolutely everything about it. The butter wafting, the gathering of milk duds and popcorn in military lines throughout the burgundy carpets (having parachuted unwilling out of overstuffed containers), the over sized door into the theater from the lobby, the Christmas lights laid in rows on the floor (leading you to whatever magical two hours were ahead of you), that first sip of soda, the speakers erupting to life, the fading of the ceiling lights, my Mom, and Dad, and brother, and I all in a row.

We didn't go often. Making it all that much more when we did. Star Wars was the anomaly. I believe we saw the first one three or so times. The others that stood out from the period (late 70's through the early 80's) were Raiders Of The Lost Ark, Time Bandits, Six Pack, and Popeye.

Popeye starred the guy from Happy Days. The guy that played the Alien. He ended up having his own show. Mork And Mindy. And holy cow did he look Just. Like. Popeye!! I was 8 years old that year.

In 1989 and 1990, I was wrapping up high school. I was questioning everything about the machine. I listened to hardcore, dressed up oddly on purpose, instigated the people I thought were cogs, and reveled in guitar playing and general mayhem. All while maintaining that child-like wonder about the movie theater. That never changed. I loved reading, and I loved going to the movies. And now I can watch them at home on VHS tapes too. During this era I was absolutely floored by many films. When you're 17 or 18 everything is electric and swirling. Everything much larger than it will be at any other time in your life.

Silence Of The Lambs. The Fisher King. Awakenings. Goodfellas. Dead Poet's Society.

Dark, serious, foreboding, melodramatic, and triumphant. This was my young adulthood developing before my eyes.

In 1998 Good Will Hunting hit the screen. I was 26 years old. I had lost my first girlfriend to a bipolar drummer who moved them to Portland OR via Austin TX. My first real band parted ways (rather violently), and I had met someone new. I moved into my first real apartment with that someone new just the year before. In a brand new town to me. I was about to connect with some of the most important people in my life (it was the first year I went to The Brass Cat). I was watching the Red Sox, playing in a then 2 year old band (hospital). I rented GWH one night in early '98. I watched it three times that night. And then again in the morning before I had to return it to the video store (next to where I worked) in Westfield.

Drunk, wiser, calmer, hopeful, and reflective. This was the development of my adulthood.

That's when Robin Williams became an ancillary character in my life. I no longer ran across his fireballing stand up routines. But I did get caught up in his plunge into bravely silly depravity. The early 2000's brought wonderful, cryptic characters in One Hour Photo, and Insomnia. And every time I ran across him I would be reminded of the movies that I saw, and had a special (almost secret) relationship with. Jack. Hook. Mrs Doubtfire. And on and on and on. And I would think about all of the times he made me chortle with laughter. His riff on the creation of golf, for example. And that was as recent as 2010. The more I thought about it, every time I even saw a picture of him I think I smiled. I'm not sure I was even aware of it. But there was always something that made me feel like the 8 year old in 1980. Skipping around the meddled, sugarbutter military, and the cheap Christmas lights.

I read countless stories today, in private rooms of online AA that I subscribe to, from San Francisco AA'ers. These stories are all true. I believe every word. Because if there's one thing that they want you to do in recovery, it's tell the fucking truth. For the first time in your life. I can't tell you how unbelievably relieving and rewarding it is. Anyway, here's some of the things I read.

Robin Sponsored 5 or 6 guys during his 20 years of sobriety. He constantly left movie sets to pick up distressed AA newcomers who feared relapse. He gave his phone number to every new kid in the room. Every week. He even got burned twice when his number leaked. When asked about what he was going to do, Robin got wide eyed, and stared for a pause. Only to answer "Change my fucking number!". He then grinned that famous squinty grin. And winked. And he did change his number. The following week? He stood as a greeter for the meeting and handed out his number to roughly eight newcomers. He often arrived early, made coffee, and set up chairs. He continued all of this activity (including the handing out of his phone number) for nearly two decades.

So there he is again. At the present day of my life. And at the end of his. Running side by side, in some freakishly relative nature, with me. Turns out the fucking beast caught him though. He fought. Off and on. But that, and other illnesses, finally won. He finally got out of the fire for good. Leaving a trail.

It took me an hour today to figure out why, at 11:30 this morning, I had to pull the car over for the 3rd time, and openly weep for a man I never met. For only the third time in my entire life. And I was baffled at why it wouldn't stop.

And then it hit me. Robin Williams has been with me since I was 8. That's 33 years. And he was never a front runner, or one who stole any attention away from my life. Never a distraction. Never a boost. But always a welcome smile. Brought on by a squinty little wink.

Robin Williams was a gentle companion in my life. Whispering a joke, or a heartfelt sentiment, from the corner. Never wanting to intrude. For nearly my entire fucking life.

And from the outpouring of stories, soliloquies, and remembrances, it is painfully obvious that I am not alone. Not by a long shot.

Hey man. Thanks. Thanks for absolutely everything you did. For me, and the other millions. Absolutely everything.

Your move, chief.

Day 427 - Lijden (new song unmastered preview) and official album cover art, album title, and official press release photo

Click this link to hear a pre-release song off of my forthcoming record (officially entitled "White Flood" - official album cover art above. 2014 press release eponymous photo above, as well).

The song is "Lijden". It's a story of fear and fate.

This song is in NO way indicative of the sound of the record as an entirety. The full record is as dynamically varied as anything I've done.

I wrote the music and melody for this song back in early 2009. On July 6th 2013 I went to Sonelab and tracked this all in one day with the help of the indomitable Mark Alan Miller. I played everything on here (throat, guitars, bass, drums, piano). The drums were made of wood, as were the guitars and piano. And the amps were loud. And I hit the drums hard. The guitars, harder (how's that for a gear review?). I believe this is all 1st or 2nd take. I don't like multiple takes. Never have. I need to hear the human element of slips and nuances. Glossy, shiny, edited post-production just doesn't allow me to enjoy my music. It's that simple, really.

Rob Connelly played secondary piano. And his presence instantly shaped the sounds of certain points in this song. He is, without question, the one peer whose musical artistry overwhelms me. And I've been lucky enough to work with some of the most incredible artisans we know.

This song is a dumptruck with the pedal pinned to the floor. I wanted it that way. I wanted it to be violent and incessant. Like a foot on a throat (lyrically, that's essentially what it is). Even in its tender lyrical coda, and pretty modality, there was always a steady stream of ferocity in this song, to me.

This isn't the version that will appear on the record, as it is unmastered. But I wanted to share this with you all. And to those amazing people that funded my kickstarter campaign, please PM me your email if you want a copy of this for yourself. I'd be happy to email it.

Hope you enjoy is. Feedback always welcome. Lyrics below.

Cheers,

M

Lijden

Feed the heathen breathing in me. Burn the bread and shoot the bitter wine. Poison racing in and through me. Cancel every moment in my mind. And I suffer, but I am not alone. Watch the shell of what you once knew. Watch as only I can sympathize. Melting into sheets, no honor. You, the final victim in my mind. And you suffer, but you are not alone. How can I express the things that I don't know? There's safety in this mess. A chaos playing dead, while killing every ghost. And we suffer. I am one of you. I am one with you.

Day 378

Three days into the SCD program, I stopped. Cold.

The depressive state I dove into was alarming, deep, immediate, and visceral. Granted, I suffer from depression (something that I am on western meds for), so I suppose that my already completely out of wack dopamine levels are impressionable, to be diplomatic. I felt hospitalized. Cornered by sadness, a complete lack of energy, and a lack of even wanting to find any. If I were further along in my recovery I would've fought through it. But the dangers are still too present. And I couldn't risk heading down roads that lead to places that only end with dire consequences. I will say that my stomach felt great for those two full days. Better, in fact, than it ever has. Driven by that, I've decided to go unprocessed in all of my food choices for now. This coming from a guy that lived out of boxes of foods for years. Pasta, breads, sweets, etc. So far, I feel pretty good. I don't have the stomach relief that I had for those brief days, but I most certainly see a very noticeable improvement, and I also immediately leapt from the depression within moments of making the decision to stop. Food is a motherfucking powerful beast.

The SCD program, however, has done wonders for my fiancee. She is, it should be noted, someone that does not suffer from addiction or clinical depression. So I suppose my generic statement is if you wish to try this program, and you're a victim of any sort of mental illness, check with your doc before starting.

Sorry. I just got distracted. Sammy Hagar has a song that contains the line "I'm alive when I breathe the air..." Give me a second. I have to clean some water off my computer.

OK. Back. Shit, that was too good.

In other news, I received my one year coin last night. I had a dear friend in the audience that made the special trip to be there. My fiancee was also there. For many, many reasons it was one of the most moving days of the year for me. Some things (most, if you can believe that) remain private however.

Earlier in the day the present my fiancee ordered for me arrived. It's one of my favorite pictures of us. We have a nearly all black & white artwork delegation in our hallway, and I just love it in all of it's canvas glory.

We also might have met someone. I say might. We'll see. I am a dog person. She is a cat person. Neither of us dislikes the other, we're just more drawn to one than the other. My only rules are don't bite me, don't scratch me, don't destroy every piece of furniture in the house, shit in your disgusting box, and don't attack our future dog.

There will also be rules for the cat.

Day 371 - SCD

Day two of the SCD program.

I've suffered from chronic stomach issues since childhood. I won't go into details, but you'll just have to trust me. All I am allowed to eat (granted, as much of it as I want, and only for 5 days) is homemade chicken soup (nothing in it but chicken, it's own broth, and emulsified carrots), gelatin, steamed carrots, grape juice, eggs, honey, and beef patties. Essentially, I am eating like a sick dog.

My better half suggested this program (and has gone WAY out of her way to cook and prepare essentially everything for me) knowing that I have never been able to find an answer to my stomach issues. And believe me, I have tried. I've cut out various foods, in various combinations, too many hundreds of times to even begin to count. To no avail.

I'll spare you the descriptive element of how this works, but just say that it's basically not allowing the bad bacteria in my stomach to survive on junk sugars and junk carbs.

I've learned two things thusfar

1) My withdrawals were immediate. I don't think I got through the afternoon of day one without already craving salts and sugars. It opened my eyes even wider to the addictive element of me. And has proven just how out of wack my dopamine is. I am a creature of habit. And when you take away my ability to mindlessly snack on something throughout the course of the day? I want to fold like a cheap suit. This has truly been as difficult as the attempt to quit smoking (I'm still smoking, but have quit in the past).

2) I was told that the reaction to the death of these bacteria might be immediate and pervasive. Well, it is. I feel flu-ish. Have on and off headaches. I'm exhausted and cranky. I want to eat a plate full of nachos and chase it with some ice cream like you wouldn't fucking believe. To end the agony.

But I can't do that. I need to heal my stomach in order to heal my mind. And 41 years of this is enough.

If you're going to try this, and you're predisposed to an addictive element of yourself like I am, be prepared. This is not fun. But from what I've read, it turns a bit of a corner by the third day.

I'll try and let you know if that's true. If you don't hear from me, I'll be headfirst in a vat of nacho cheese.