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Meet Jim E. Brown, Manchester's hottest up and coming poet and singer/songwriter. His autobiography "Brown on Brown" is a no-holds barred romp through the streets of East Didsbury to the hills of Chorlton-cum-Hardy....and everywhere in between. Jim E. spills the beans on East Didsbury, his alcoholic years at his favorite pub Ye Olde Cock, his love of Gushers candies, his Father's Pus-filled soars and much more! Purchase of the book includes digital download of "Jim E. Brown Sings His Love Songs," a £250 value! Enjoy!
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The inspiration for this track couldn't have been more simple. Edgar, keyboardist for The Ivy League was diddling about on one of his computer softwares and came upon a lovely patch with sounded simply ethereal and beautiful to my sensitive ears.
"What's the patch called?" I shouted to Edgar from 12 feet across the room (Covid-19 regulations recommend 6 feet, but I like to double it just to be safe).
"Down By The Ocean" he said.
That patch name was glorious... I decided to work with it but I wanted to put my own unique twist on it... so I called the song "Down By The Sea."
Additionally, my favorite band of all time is Phish. While their name is obviously an allusion to drummer Jon Fishman, it also provokes aquatic imagery of fish and the sea. Their logo even features a fish. So in a way this song is about Phish.
Phish, in addition to being some of the finest musicians and songwriters of the 20th Century, also have a devout following and a wonderful online forum called Phantasy Tour. I spent many years of my youth lurking the depths of the Phantasy Tour forum. The contributors there made me into the man I am today. It would seem that many of them had substance abuse issues and possible undiagnosed mental health disorders. Since I had been abusing alcohol from the age of five, I felt a real kinship with these Phish Phanatics.
I remember being 12 years old, late night on a Tuesday. My parents were fast asleep and I was rather sloshed from a bottle of Nikita Imperial I had devoured. It had been a rough day. My father had come home from his male modeling gig in a retched mood. His therapist had prescribed him Lexapro which he found helpful. But he was off his meds for the day. Once he got home, he sat in the corner screaming and crying. If anyone came within feet of him he’d scream blood murder. “What’s wrong Dad?” I said.
“Get the fuck away from me you creep!” he yelled. I got a glimpse of his face. It was covered in pus filled boils. When I looked at the ground there was a pool of pus there. He must have been scratching at his boils because he was in a depressive mood. I saw little droplets of blood in the pus too.
It was stressful for my entire family, but my coping mechanism was alcohol and Phantasy Tour. I couldn’t admit it to myself at the time, but the Phish Forum was a passive aggressive outlet for me to disparage other users in order to feel better about my problems at home. I did genuinely love Phish, but it seemed that I only felt good about myself when I was bringing others down. This is in no way the right thing to do, but it was I did.
Looking back, it was transference plain and simple. For example I was embarrassed that my Dad was a male model and I was embarrassed by his pus-filled boils and sores. So I’d criticize other Phish fans on Phantasy tour for the same thing. I’d make a thread and say “I THINK BLAZEONTWEEZER’S DAD HAS PUS FILLED BOILS!” Or “I THINK PSYCHOKILLER666’S DAD IS A GAY MALE MODEL.” Somehow I never realized I was referring to my own situation.
I always hoped that Phish would tour the UK and come to Manchester. I had an fantasy that I’d meet Trey at a pub in East Didsbury and that he’d do an impromptu set for a small crowd. But Phish never came to Manchester and I never saw any of the guys at any of the pubs in East Didsbury. When I heard Trey was sober I knew I’d never meet my hero at a pub. It was one of the real reasons I began writing my music. If I can go on tour, maybe just maybe one day I’ll get to meet Phish out on the road. Usually they don’t have opening acts but maybe they’d let me, Jim E. Brown open up for them.
Phish is my biggest musical inspiration and I think you’ll hear that as you listen to the songs on this album.
In addition to the Phish allusions, this song is about the beautiful moment when I lost my virginity to Darlene on a beach. We were both wildly intoxicated. I had imbibed a medley of marijuana, Percocet and Red Bull Vodkas…and I had saved a bit of cocaine to free base when we arrived at FORMBY POINT, MERSEYSIDE. Darlene and I had been seeing each other on and off for a few months now. After we saw boiled eggs in each other’s vomit at the bar we had struck up an intimate relationship. We could kiss and cuddle but I wasn’t emotionally prepared to penetrate yet. Darlene was rather insistent upon it. The whole thing made me nervous so I made sure to intoxicate myself heavily to take the edge off.
We drove up to Formby Point. “This will be romantic, Jim E.” Darlene said.
I felt the knot in my stomach tighten. I farted very loudly. Too much boiled eggs for breakfast (I stress eat, which is why I am obese, but more on that later).
Darlene laughed at my flatulence, which hurt my feelings and offended me deeply. “Fuck you bitch! You’re just like the rest of them!” I screamed. I began to passionately freebase my cocaine as I cried. They say sticks and stones can break my bones but words will never hurt me. But Darlene’s words hurt worse than even the largest boulder. Shouldn’t she know that I’m sensitive about my flatulence?
“I’m sorry, Jim E., I didn’t mean…”
“You didn’t mean what?” I screamed. ‘You didn’t mean to show how much of a conniving SNAKE you are?”
“Don’t talk to me that way Jim!”
Darlene got out of the car. She tripped on a seashell in the parking lot. She landed flat on her face and blood began to leak from her. She farted. I began to laugh uncontrollably. She got up.
“See Jim E.! You laughed at me!”
“It was not the same at all, Darlene!” I said.
Her bloodied face reminded me of the pus-y bloody face my Dad had. Maybe I’ve always been subconsciously attracted to my father (He was a handsome male model after all), but I felt so turned on by all this. “Let’s make love, Darlene!” I said.
We tip-toed through the sand and stripped until we were naked. I had no idea how any of this sex business worked, but Darlene was an expert. She gave very clear and precise instructions on how to properly place my erect penis into her vaginal cavity. Once that occurred I thrusted back and forth (as she instructed) and eventually ejaculated. It was a very enjoyable experience.
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