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Email: thebroke@TheBrokenHandle.com

I have mixed feelings about a select few record companies. As I am sure many of you know since Napster has come along, the music industry has changed. I was reading an article about a record company going after Tim Gilberg & David Taub, the founders of NextLevelGuitar.com. They are known for there creative yet simple methods of teaching you how to play the guitar by teaching you many radio hits. They have used the power of youtube.com and have become very popular.

The article I read was from http://www.guitar-stuff.net basically what it comes down to, is a record company is try to take them to court because the songs they are teaching are copied righted.

If you take a step back and think about it, there are 7 notes in the musical scale. There are a ton of musicians out there with several songs. How many times can you play the notes in a different order? I am not a math wiz but I know that they can not play in to many different orders. That means that several artists have used the same cord patterns in several songs.

Now this record company is try to take them to court over a few different cord patterns. Saying the artist owns that progression. They are not even teaching you the lyrics of the song. Just how to play the cords.

I feel that these music companies are loosing money due to the internet and other methods of sharing music, but instead of trying to find a new way to market there product they are taking the lazy way out and trying to sue any one that has anything associated with there product.

Let’s take another step back and look at RadioHead. They said screw the record company and let’s look at a new method of marketing are music. They said you pay what you think the music is worth. Last time I checked they sold over 1.3 million copies at an average of 8 dollars an album. I will tell you what; I would rather pay 15 dollars a cd if I know that the money was going to the artist instead of paying 7 dollars at my local wal-mart and knowing that maybe a dollar is going to the artist. I am tied of these lazy record companies and how the screw over the artist. I am aware that these companies spend a lot of time and resources marketing for different bands. In the end if you make a good song it draws in the listeners.

What makes this radiohead story so great is not only do they still own all the rights to there music but they also are making all the money off there songs.

Where do you stand on this? Should the record Companies be doing what they are? Did Tim Gilberg and David Taub do anything wrong by teaching you how to play these different cords in a specific pattern? Please give us your Feedback!

This is how it works. If you have Drum Software or a set of drums and a way to mic them, we want you!

What: Make Great music with The Broken Handle. Create the Driving Drum Beats of the untitled Song. Have your work posted up on TheBrokenHandle.com for your friends, family and the world to enjoy!

How: Download the untitled Track by right clicking on the URL below and selecting save Target as.

http://TheBrokenHandle.com/music/contest/untitled.mp3

Add your expressive Drum Track by recording your drums or using a Drumming software such as groove agent, fruity loops ..ect, and email the finished song in MP3 format to contest@TheBrokenHandle.com

When: Email the Finished track by 1 am Dec 31, 2007

to contest@TheBrokenHandle.com

Where: TheBrokenHandle.com

The Broken Handle will pick its top two favorites and post them on the site for one month for other fans to vote on. The track that gets the most votes will be kept up on the site for the world to enjoy.

Why: Number 1 Reason to have fun and express your self. Reason 2, You will be heard around the world and be able to tell your friends and family that you made that song happen!

Let the Drummer Contest begin! Please email us if you have any questions or concerns. Thanks!

Download track from:

http://thebrokenhandle.com/music/contest/untitled.mp3

Best of Luck!

-The Broken Handle

Drummer Contest -

The Broken Handle will be putting a contest together looking for a someone to create the Drums tracks for the currently untitled song.

As you probably know The Broken Handle is about making good music while having fun. We are not some big corporate rock sell out band. It’s all about expressing yourself and getting heard. We would like to tag team with are fans to make a song. Would you like to join the jam session and make something that can be shared with everyone? Well here is your chance!

We are looking for someone with drum software or a drum set and a way to record them. We will be posting a track with just the guitar parts and would like you to create the driving Drum Track.

The Broken Handle will choose the top two tracks and post them on the website for a few weeks so everyone can vote on the best sounding track. Which ever song wins will be posted on the website for the next year for the world to listen to. You will be credited for your work. You will be heard around the world and be able to tell your friends and family that you made that song happen.

Be on the look out for the Drummer contest link on are main page! The Link will be post before 10/15/2007

Best of Luck to all!

The Broken Handle

Do you have any good ideas on how to get involded in making music with The Broken Handle? Please leave us some comments and let us know!

Some People ask what do you like to write your music about. Well lately I have been writing about something I feel very strongly on. I live in this great country we call United States of America. Currently we have things going on that some people might not agree with. I am talking about the location of our troops. No matter what your stand on this is, it is fine with me. However the one thing I have a real hard time with is people not supporting our troops. It is not their choice where they are stationed and what they are working on. They are here to serve and protect our country and are doing one hell of a job at it.

People take what they have for granted here. We are the country of freedom. You can practice what ever religion you want, you can say what you want, and you can make choices in your life. It makes me very upset how so many take this for granted and shun the men and women that make this possible These people are husbands, wives, sons, daughters, fathers, mothers, brothers sisters to some one. There are putting there life at risk for you and this country.

Let’s take a moment to step back for a second and think about if you where in their shoes. Would be able to handle being on the front line fighting for something you might not even agree with? Would you still be willing to put your life in dangers way for freedom you might not even get to enjoy?

The Music I have written about is the fallen heroes and unrecognized heroes that make my freedom what is today. If you agree with this check out track “Fallen War Hero” (Coming soon!)

Please Support our Troops!

-Eric

Today I was sitting in my car eating my lunch and listening to the radio. I know what kind of looser eats alone right. Anyways, the song on radio was coming to an end and I just started humming what I thought would be the next song on the radio. Sure enough that song came on next. What makes matters worse is this is not the first time I have predicted the next song nor is this only radio station I have been able to do this. It would be nice if I was physic but unfortunately I’m not.

Let’s take a step back, Think about how many bands are out in the world. Some reason when I turn on the radio I have heard the song before and more then likely earlier that day. Does something seem a bit weird here? I don’t know about you, but I have grown very board of the usual rock station. It is all about the money and what some guy in a suit thinks will be a hit. I think there are a lot of great bands and artists out there that are better then what is on the radio but a big record company will not even give them a chance because they will not make a billion dollars off of them.

I have been on a search over the last few years for something better and true to the heart. I had enough of the same old same old. I would rather listen to something that means something and really connects with me then something suit boy thinks I will like.

When I was living up in Minneapolis I spent a lot of hours listening to Radio K. If you have never heard of Radio K, it is a local radio station put on by the University of Minnesota. To learn more you can check them out at http://radiok.cce.umn.edu/. Radio K has a lot of great music from small bands and much more.
Radio K has a lot of really great music. I have to admit I am really impressed with this station. They play such a huge range of music, any thing from local to global, rock to folk. Some of it’s a bit strange but who defines what normal is? The artist just expresses themselves a little differently. I am sure they still have something great to share. I would rather have something different then the same. It’s like going into one of those cookie cutter neighbor hoods. What really is the different between one house to the next? If you’re lucky maybe the garage is on the other side of the house or shutters are pained red instead of blue.
There are a lot of other resources out there to help small independent bands and artist get heard beside Radio K. If you have any resources that you wish to share please leave a comment and list them. I hope you enjoyed my deep thoughts in 5 minutes. Have fun play loud!

Please support you local bands!

-Eric

Long black clouds were dragging across the sky, and bringing with them the beginning of a cold night when Theo noticed the vacant leash. It was still attached to its post, however, his dog Tibidoe was nowhere to be found. The dry fallen oak leaves had begun to blanket the leash, which signaled to Theo that his beloved friend had fled the farm once more.

Theo began to ponder the possibilities of what may have befallen his canine companion. After all Tibidoe had done this once before. It happened after the Malvern family had brought him home from another farm three counties over. Granted he was only a pup then, but something lit a fire under that pooch that spooked him right out of his collar. He had headed off in the direction of his old home, and Theo had caught up with him at the halfway point of their farm. At the time, Theo remembered feeling that maybe their large bull, Red Hornet, had put the scare in Tibidoe when he charged and hit the fence with a thunderous boom. As Theo now looked into the eyes of a much older bull, the idea that Red Hornet had frightened Tibidoe again ran through Theo’s mind. The massive beast appeared tired and worn out in the failing autumn twilight, yet restless as it stared directly back into Theo’s eyes. Red then turned, and calmly lumbered off to the other side of his pen. The manner in which he retreated conveyed aspects of innocence to Theo so his suspicions about Red being the cause of the matter began to fade.

It now occurred to Theo that maybe the weather had something to do with Tibidoe’s disappearance. Either way, his friend was missing and he had to search for him. He walked back to the house, and when he returned to the yard he was dressed in a plaid coat and a wool-hunting cap. He also brought the pocketknife he always carried, a canteen, two tins of sardines, a lantern, a soapbox full of matches, and his 45 caliber Sharp’s Carbine rifle, which he earned while riding for the Union’s cavalry during the war. The gun would provide him protection from black bear and wolves known to inhabit the surrounding areas. The matches would assist him in starting a fire quickly if he would have to spend the night outside. Fire, he thought would be a great thing to have if the temperature dropped any further while he was out searching for Tibidoe. With his things together and his mind right, he set out in a westward direction toward the farm Tibidoe had come from.

As Theo entered the field he scanned the horizon for a brief moment then belted out a load call for the dog. He looked to the sky and felt a shiver come over him as large elongated clouds overhead parted briefly to reveal the vibrant stars shining against a black sky. As the cloud came back together he scanned the area quickly with the lantern to find Tibidoe’s trail, and after a minute’s search he was on it. His trial ran clear through the overgrown, stale grass that had died in the first few frosts of autumn. As he followed the trail, he came to the fence at the end of his property. Holding his lantern up he knelt down to retrieve a tuff of hair that had gotten caught in a barb of the fence. This is where Tibidoe went over. He turned back to scan the horizon and called out once more. After receiving no response, Theo hopped the fence and ventured into the woods that lay just beyond the border of the Malvern’s farm.

It was calm in the woods, and a few degrees warmer. Theo trekked forward as the northwestern winds caught and swayed the trees with their currents. He called for Tibidoe again and again, but still he received no response. As Theo headed deeper into the woods, he passed the great shadow of what looked to him to be the only pine in the forest. Admiring the tree only briefly Theo began to worry about his four-legged friend. Upsetting images, along with burning sensations, began to sweep his mind and scour his body as he thought of what might have happened to Tibidoe. What if Tibidoe had fallen prey to wolves or even bears? What would Theo do then? He loved that dog. Theo’s mind began to flood with memories as he pushed on; from the time he first laid eyes on Tibidoe to when they each grew older and started trusting one another.

One memory stuck out particularly strong in Theo’s thoughts. It happened a few summers back when they had been hunting along the river. Theo had lost his footing on the rocky shore and stumbled head first into to river. In the fall, Theo hit his head severely and knocked himself unconscious. If Tibidoe hadn’t been there to drag him out of the water, Theo might have drowned. Theo remembered coming to, only to find Tibidoe standing over him like a mother bear standing strong for her cubs against the threats of danger. Theo thought of this and shed a faint tear that ran cold against his cheek in the autumn air. He felt so helpless. His companion was missing and was a potential victim to the wildlife surrounding the farm. The only thing he could do was keep searching and hope his best friend was all right. He thought like this as he pushed on through the frightful woods. The lantern’s light played optics with the shadows cast by the trees, and the only sound was that of his voice, muffled by the evening’s wind, calling out.

Theo followed the trail, searching for at least three more hours, but he began growing cold under the blanket of cold air that had settled over the forest. To conserve fuel, he had extinguished his lantern a little over an hour before so his eyes were well adjusted to the dim light as he gathered firewood. He found a clearing in the wood’s canopy and started his fire beneath it. Theo knelt down and, with an assertive arm, made a swiping motion across the ground that produced a dark clearing of cold soil. He stood and dug a sufficient trench with his boot heel around its perimeter to create a buffer between the fire and the dry leaves of the forest floor. He paused for a second then carved a linear trench in the clearing’s center so the fire would receive air. He bent down again with a match in hand, positioned his body to block any overwhelming drafts and lit some dry leaves. To get more heat, he placed upon the tiny fire a tightly twisted bundle of grass he contrived from the field grass. Then he stoked it with small twigs and eventually branches, and finally produced a fire that burned generously.

Theo piled up some dry leaves, laid down in an arc-shape around the fire, and covered his lower half up with more dry leaves. Even though the process of making the fire had distracted his mind from the more serious task at hand, his visions began to wander again as he laid there. As he meditated, he curled back a key to the lid of one of the sardine tins and pulled a few out. He took a sip from the canteen, then downed the remainder of the tin in a gulp. He threw the tin in the fire then laid back down and thought some more about his friend Tibidoe. He reminisced about other good times, but mostly Theo pondered about what might have happened to him.

Then from off in the near distance Theo heard a rustling of leaves. This alerted him from the veil of sleep that had begun to creep upon him. He sat up quickly and cocked his rifle. He listened intently to the noise. It wasn’t coming any closer to the fire, but it wasn’t moving away either. He paused, then steadied himself into a stance, and started edging toward the sound. As he came closer he could hear a faint whimper, and he immediately knew it was Tibidoe. He secured his rifle and lit his lantern. As the lantern took and its light shined out, Theo could see his friend in the orange glow lying in dire need of assistance.

There, on the leave strewn forest floor laid Tibidoe. He was caught in the jaws of a wolf trap, and the trap had done its job. It had clamped down on the entire hindquarters of Tibidoe’s body and pinned him to its station. The only reason Tibidoe hadn’t been cut in half was because by some miracle the trap had shut with its circumference lying directly along the path of his upper hind legs. Theo could see that the vice had stopped upon impacted with the bone. By the amount of blood that was on the ground, Theo could also see that Tibidoe had been there a while. Theo knew that a wound such as this would definitely attract any predator within the area, and in light of the winds being as strong as they were, the scent of Tibidoe’s blood had most certainly traveled a distance.

Theo knelt down quickly at the muzzle of his friend, set the lantern down, and soothed him gently. He kissed Tibidoe on the brow and brought his hand to his head in a enamored pose of disbelief. Theo stood up quickly and began scouring the forest floor with his feet for a sturdy piece of timber. He kicked wildly until he found one of adequate strength. Returning to his fallen friend, he unloaded his rifle and wedged it in between the trap’s jaws to create a lever. With his left foot set strong on the lower jaw, he put his shoulder into the stock of his rifle and pushed up. The upper jaw began to release its hold on Tibidoe, and once Theo had opened the trap wide enough he took the sturdy timber and propped the trap open. Theo then delicately raised Tibidoe from the trap’s teeth and placed him near the lantern’s orange glow. He took his coat off and wrapped Tibidoe’s lower half up like an infant. Theo turned down his lantern, secured his rifle, lifted his friend, and staggered back to the fire.

When the two finally reached the fire Theo began to assess Tibidoe’s wounds. He didn’t want to put Tibidoe down, but in the rippling glow of the fire Theo could see that his friend was suffering. Theo unscrewed his canteen and poured cold water into his cupped hand. Tibidoe lapped it up quickly so Theo poured another. Theo then took out his pocketknife and removed a sleeve from the shirt that was wrapped around Tibidoe. He cut the sleeve into long linear strips and soaked them in as much water as he could possibly spare. Theo cleaned Tibidoe’s wounds with the damp strips the best that he could. Without moving him too much he dressed Tibidoe with the remaining stripes. After stoking the fire, Theo laid next to his severely injured companion and opened the second tin of sardines. He fed them to Tibidoe and soothed him gently with a tender hand. Theo could tell that his friend was badly hurt, but he could also see in the warm fire light that Tibidoe’s eyes glistened with a glimmer of hope.

The night had gone on far too long for Theo and Tibidoe to make their way back to the farm. After throwing a few more branches on the fire, Theo could see that Tibidoe had fallen asleep. Theo sat up to watch over his friend, just as Tibidoe had done for him in the past. The night sky had completely cleared of all its overcast now, and the stars were out and shining brightly. The wind still rocked the trees and brought with it a brisk chill, but the fire radiated its heat and kept them warm. Theo maneuvered his back against a tree and thanked some higher power for helping him find Tibidoe in time. He reloaded his rifle and sat there next to his friend, and the crackling fire, on watch. He was on edge for potential threats, but Theo began to relax now that Tibidoe was found.

As the night went on, eventually there was little left to burn around them and the fire smoldered down to only a few embers. Morning was coming and Theo decided that they would have to start the journey back to the farm. Theo got his bearing then stomped out the fire. With his gear over his shoulder, he gently picked up Tibidoe, and commenced on the four-hour trek back home. As they walked, the sound of Theo’s heavy footsteps crunched and shattered the dry leaves. In accompaniment to his footsteps, was the combination of their heavy breathing following each touchdown. These seemed to be the only sounds, and, with another gray fall morning coming over them, the woods seemed to Theo to be quite eerie.

The two staggered along like this for three hours before they started edging their way out of the woods. Theo knew they were almost out because he recognized the large solitary pine he had encountered on the way into the woods at the beginning of his search for Tibidoe. With his friend in his arms, he lurched his way past the great tree.

Suddenly, out from behind, came an abnormally large black bear. The wind, blowing in the wrong direction had prevented either Theo or the bear from catching each other’s scent. By coming up from behind the tree like this Theo had spooked the dark, shadowy beast into an attack mode. The bear stood up on its hind legs and looked at Tibidoe in Theo’s arms. It looked to Theo to be confused for a moment at the odd shape the two formed, but Theo knew that the bear had smelled Tibidoe’s blood when the beast started for them with an incredible burst of speed. Tibidoe lunged out of Theo’s arms in attempts to cease the beast’s attack. His efforts were abruptly thwarted, however, by the sheer mass of the bear in motion. All three come crashing onto the hard ground in a melee of teeth, blood, fur, and leaves. Theo was knocked the furthest away from his friend and the beast who were now entangled in a fight to the finish. Theo scrambled to his feet, and in one quick motion removed the rifle from his shoulder. As the battle raged before him, Theo took aim and fired just as the bear was about to deliver a fatal bite to Tibidoe. The bear paused for a moment then looked up at Theo, then slowly fell back and to the side under its own weight.

Theo quickly rushed once more to his injured friend. There, under the sober light of a dark gray sky, he could see that Tibidoe was hurt now far worse than before. The new wounds that Tibidoe had incurred during the battle with the bear were definitely fatal. In a fleeting glimpse of hope, however, Theo scooped his friend into his arms and started running toward the farm. He ran as fast as he could through the field, past Red Hornet, up the porch and into the kitchen. He set Tibidoe on the counter, and reached for pail beside the sink basin and began pumping rapidly on the handle of the spout. Over his shoulder he could see Tibidoe breathing heavy and bleeding all over the floor. After Theo filled the pail, he frantically rushed into the bedroom to retrieve some blankets from the chest at the foot of his bed. He returned to the kitchen and began to clean Tibidoe’s wounds.

As Theo started tending to the wounds he could see the Tibidoe was starting to fade. He had lost so much blood, and he was running out of time. Theo quickly ran to living-room drawer and got a sewing needle and a spool of thread. He was back at Tibidoe’s side in a heartbeat. He quickly lit a match to sterilized the needle and began stitching any apparent wounds he could find on Tibidoe’s frail and soaked body. As he did this Tibidoe’s breath grew shallow and his eyes were fully closed now. Theo worked faster to seal the wounds, but as he closed the one he’d been working on he looked upon the shut-eyes of his friend. Theo studied his torso, rubbed a hand over his nose to check for breathe, and realized that Tibidoe was gone. Theo leaned over into the neck of his best friend and began to weep. Heavy tears fell like rain from Theo’s eyes, and his grievous heart pounded heavy in his chest. His best friend had died is his arms and there was nothing more Theo could do.

As Theo walked out to the field he stopped for a brief moment to look at Red. It was spring now and he was preening for the “ladies” grazing out in the pasture. He was just waiting to be set lose from his pen. The farm had lost a few cows over the freezing winter and Theo knew that Red understood that he’d be needed on duty.

Theo turned back to the path he was walking and ventured out toward the shadowy, solitary pine. As he approached the sacred site, he could see just before the great pine the massive upright slab of flagstone he had place there as a marker for a grave. He had placed Tibidoe here along with the severed head of the black bear. Theo felt that this was a proper location. It served as a reminder about the possible troubles that can befall you if you venture too far from home. He knelt down for a moment of silence, and placed a single orange Indian paintbrush at the head of the grave. Theo then turned, called for his new friend Tibio, and headed back to the farm.