The Robin Byrd Era

As you might know, I’m in the midst of working on a new album. One of the most fun/annoying parts of making a new album is dealing with titles. Sure, it’s fun to name songs after inside jokes or whatever arbitrary thing I can think of (especially the kind I make which usually contain no vocals and are ripe for interpretation). However, naming an album title is stressful. First off, it sticks with you. If the title sucks, you will not forget it. Secondly, it has to somehow capture the point you’re trying to get across with said album.

Yesterday I tweeted
“I kinda wanna call my new album “The Robin Byrd era”. Eh…To much of an Inside joke but it would be fun for those who got it.”

While I was kinda joking, the more I thought about it, it did capture something I’ve been trying to put my finger on since beginning this album. Allow me to explain…

Some of you may know her name from a random old SNL skit

It’s actually pretty spot on…

For those who don’t know , Robin Byrd is a former porn star turned Tv host. Her show was not a typical TV show though. It was on Leased access in NYC (Leased access is like public access but it’s got ad’s). Her show consisted of a seemingly drugged out old whore (Robin Byrd) introducing strippers (both male, female and transexual) who would then do 5 minutes routines to whatever freestyle music they could find that day. At the end of the show , she would lip sync to a song called “Bang your box” while taking the penises of the male guests and poking herself in the eye with them or mashing her face into the boobs and crotch of the female guests. Now, as a young boy going through puberty in the late 80’s/early 90’s , masturbation was a top priority. However, this was before the internet. Sure, I had some playboys but they got stale quickly and I was still too young to be able to get a steady influx of porn VHS tapes. Because of this, like everyone else I knew with cable, I turned to Channel J. This was the leased access station that, after 10:30 at night, would become all night soft core porn and escort ads (To this day, it still is but it’s now found on channel 35 on time warner cable). For my hyper horny , pubescent being, this was heaven. Robin Byrd was a show that was on all the time. Thus, it got watched a lot. The problem with her show was planning your jerk off around when the girl strippers would come on. On more than one occasion I would be ready to go as they began with a close up of hairless skin, only to be revolted as they pulled the camera back to reveal some Chippendale’s dancing corn ball with bon jovi hair in a thong. I don’t even wanna get into the surprise chicks with dicks they’d have on every now and then but I’m sure I’m not alone in that experience.

So, you might be wondering “how the fuck do your weird 13 year old masturbation habits relate to you naming an album after some old porn stars horrible tv show?”

Well, hear me out. Thinking back to those days bring about a lot of memories. Not just of shameful nuts busted but of a simpler time in both my life and in New York City. There’s a certain innocence to that perversity that I just don’t think can happen anymore in today’s day and age. Sure, you might look at the above mentioned topic as fucked up considering I was barely 13 and already exposed to chicks with dicks, but really, it was controlled. That era in time was right before New York got disney-ed and the internet became a thing. It was a time when , even though we were privy to some disgusting shit, we could still be kids. Albeit perverse kids, but kids nonetheless. So, my thoughts on this album are really just harkening back to a time when things were in a less grey area. You know, the Robin Byrd era. We knew what we were getting into. Some of it was wildly inappropriate but it helped make us who we are now. It may sound corny but remember, I’m talking about the masturbation habits of a child. How corny can that really be? Creepy? Sure, but not corny.

The Robin Byrd era speaks about much more than just what was on TV. It was the 80’s and 90’s. The same time I fell in love with hip hop. The same time I started playing basketball. When I started trying to figure out girls. These were the formative years of my life and it’s funny that they can all be traced back to a worn down , whored out , possible drug addict who stuck dicks in her eyes on a nightly basis.

I haven’t decided if I’ll name the album that or not. I mean, there’s about .03 % of my fan base that will get it. After all, they’re mostly younger than me and didn’t grow up in NYC. But part of me thinks that’s what’s kinda cool about it.Google exists for a reason. And , even with google’s help, it still wont fully shed light on the meaning behind the title. I dunno…we’ll see what happens. Maybe I’ll eventually do a poll on this blog and let you guys take you pick of what name I should go with. Whatever the case, i know for sure “The Robin Byrd era” will, at least, be a song title on the album.