Thursday, August 21, 2008
"Sing Ho for the Wealthy Dead!"
-- these were the lyrics my good friend Emerald (age 5) spontaneously started singing the other day.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
wish i could go
I have no idea what you are talking about
Your mouth moves only with someone's hand up your ass
Your mouth moves only with someone's hand up your ass
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Sunday, August 17, 2008
paperclip cufflinks
We played a wedding reception at the Georgetown Ballroom last night. Basil and I were dressed to the nines in our ruffled tuxedo shirts, but we both forgot to bring cufflinks! I quickly improvised two pair from some paperclips I found. Open the clip, poke it through the holes, and fold it back on each side of your cuff. It worked great! I think we're going to be seeing a lot more of this bold fashion statement.
Friday, August 15, 2008
Meet The Bailiff!
In keeping with Kirk's good idea, here are some things about me. In no order whatsoever:
1. I started playing bass in high school when a friend's band asked me to replace their bass player. I'd never picked up a bass. I'm still pretty sure they chose me because I was the first person who answered the phone.
2. I've never had a bass lesson. I've been meaning to start.
3. Guitar stores are among my least favorite places.
4. The nickname "Bailiff" came from David trying to remember my name after meeting me for the first time. Basil, Bagel, Bay Leaf, Bailiff - you get the idea. Now we live in the same building.
5. My first name rhymes with "dazzle", not "hazel". Though I have met other Basils who pronounce it the other way. Wrong.
6. I once played in a band with the daughter of Police guitarist Andy Summers. I played drums. We recorded 3 songs which were not very good.
7. If I come across as aloof onstage, I'm really just trying to stay focused. Some of our songs are pretty complicated. And I'm a little aloof.
8. Sometimes I take off my wedding ring to make it easier to play. My wife is okay with this. I think.
9. Kirk and I have known each other since high school and he's only tried to kiss me twice. He's 0 for 2 so far.
10. I believe in doing it right, making it big and giving it class. And also leadership.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Up In My Inbox
This just in:
BREAKING NEWS: Stonehenge was "Part of Crazy Golf Course for Race of Giant Humans"
Thank God THAT'S settled.
BREAKING NEWS: Stonehenge was "Part of Crazy Golf Course for Race of Giant Humans"
Thank God THAT'S settled.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Art of the Day
I've been doing more drawing lately. Jen put me onto this book, Drawing On The Right Side of the Brain. It's got some great exercises in it. The image above (click to enlarge) was drawn while looking at a photograph turned upside-down, so that my left brain wouldn't interfere and say, "oh, you're drawing a hand. Don't worry, I know what a hand looks like." Instead, you just draw the shapes that are right in front of you, without worrying about whether they're hands or eyes or shadows or smudges. Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Sunday, August 10, 2008
RIP Issac Hayes
If James Brown was the Godfather of Soul, surely Issac must be considered its Stepbrother.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
"You're too old for the music industry."
I glanced sideways with the handful of crumbly peanuts halfway to my slack-jawed maw.
"You're too old for the music industry," he repeated, emphasizing the 'O' in 'old' hoping it would drive home his point, when in fact it invoked an impromptu fantasty of driving a nail into his septum. This was a stupid Monday night.
"Who are you?" I asked.
"Once you reach 30, the entrance to the rock dome disappears. Only young kids can find the way in. My advice is to give up and get a full-time job doing something that isn't painful to you."
Like driving nails into the noses of strangers with T-shirts that proudly declare 'Farting Machine'. There are lots of people in this bar, why did...wait. Rock dome?
"What makes you think I'm in music?" Hell, what makes him think I want inside a dome?
"I was listening to you on your phone back there," he answered loudly, as if he couldn't help it. As if he was raised in a jet engine.
I had been talking to my friend E-fab, who plays a gargantuan upright bass and masterfully condenses words, sometimes entire paragraphs, down to a single syllable or even one letter. He called to tell me he had to bail on a gig we had planned for the weekend. "Man, gotsta bail. Sorr'," he had said. And that was it. Yeah. We're all sorr'.
Steely Dan's King of the World hobbled sleepily in the background and I suddenly felt very old. Because I recognized the song. Yes, I'm in music, Farting Machine. But I'm not that old. You're old. And I'm different. The music I make is different. It knows no age boundaries.
Holy shit, I used 'age boundaries' in a thought sentence. Fuck.
"Listen," the Machine continued, "I love rock, man. It means more to me than anything means more to me--" I think this Monday night is a new winner "--but I learned to accept the laws of age and music. You can't break into the music scene after a certain point, it's a young man's game. Girls too yup, there's all kinds of girl bands now." I looked around to make sure no one was listening, or to see if perhaps a steaming mug of poison was nearby. "You can't make it on their terms. The A&R folks are lookin' for hot 'n' young steeds."
Wow. He did say steeds. "I'm not trying to 'make it'," I emphasized the quotation marks by showing my teeth, "I'm just playing music."
"Yup yup, that's what it's about," the Machine nodded like a goddamn horse, "But I can tell this is your life, my friend. You got a myspace...?" he had no idea what to affix myspace to. I didn't have one, in fact, because I knew it was a gateway that led to facebook. "Most of the rules have changed since I was playing in a cover band." Help. "You gotta have something different and untapped to flag people down. Everyone's got ADD. But the secret is that everything comes back to the good ol' standard thing."
"Yeah, well, I don't play the standard thing," I defied my unrequested mentor, "My stuff's pretty out-there." I'm terrible at PR.
"Anyone can play weird, man. That's nothing. What's hard is to make something amazingly simple. Like Bach. That guy was rock 'n' roll. If he was alive today, he wouldn't be shreddin' the guitar or fixin' up all those really fast beats. He'd be calmly playing something so simple it would make everyone sing along, even if there were no words. Once you can do that, you've created an axis in the music universe."
Then he went silent. As if he had accidentally stumbled onto enlightenment and left his beer-gut and farting on the barstool back on earth. The music had stopped. I stared at him as he stared into nothing, perhaps checking in with the rotation of the solar system. Then he nodded some more and stumbled toward the bathroom. His words clung to my forehead. I sat there for a half hour trying to read them again.
"You're too old for the music industry," he repeated, emphasizing the 'O' in 'old' hoping it would drive home his point, when in fact it invoked an impromptu fantasty of driving a nail into his septum. This was a stupid Monday night.
"Who are you?" I asked.
"Once you reach 30, the entrance to the rock dome disappears. Only young kids can find the way in. My advice is to give up and get a full-time job doing something that isn't painful to you."
Like driving nails into the noses of strangers with T-shirts that proudly declare 'Farting Machine'. There are lots of people in this bar, why did...wait. Rock dome?
"What makes you think I'm in music?" Hell, what makes him think I want inside a dome?
"I was listening to you on your phone back there," he answered loudly, as if he couldn't help it. As if he was raised in a jet engine.
I had been talking to my friend E-fab, who plays a gargantuan upright bass and masterfully condenses words, sometimes entire paragraphs, down to a single syllable or even one letter. He called to tell me he had to bail on a gig we had planned for the weekend. "Man, gotsta bail. Sorr'," he had said. And that was it. Yeah. We're all sorr'.
Steely Dan's King of the World hobbled sleepily in the background and I suddenly felt very old. Because I recognized the song. Yes, I'm in music, Farting Machine. But I'm not that old. You're old. And I'm different. The music I make is different. It knows no age boundaries.
Holy shit, I used 'age boundaries' in a thought sentence. Fuck.
"Listen," the Machine continued, "I love rock, man. It means more to me than anything means more to me--" I think this Monday night is a new winner "--but I learned to accept the laws of age and music. You can't break into the music scene after a certain point, it's a young man's game. Girls too yup, there's all kinds of girl bands now." I looked around to make sure no one was listening, or to see if perhaps a steaming mug of poison was nearby. "You can't make it on their terms. The A&R folks are lookin' for hot 'n' young steeds."
Wow. He did say steeds. "I'm not trying to 'make it'," I emphasized the quotation marks by showing my teeth, "I'm just playing music."
"Yup yup, that's what it's about," the Machine nodded like a goddamn horse, "But I can tell this is your life, my friend. You got a myspace...?" he had no idea what to affix myspace to. I didn't have one, in fact, because I knew it was a gateway that led to facebook. "Most of the rules have changed since I was playing in a cover band." Help. "You gotta have something different and untapped to flag people down. Everyone's got ADD. But the secret is that everything comes back to the good ol' standard thing."
"Yeah, well, I don't play the standard thing," I defied my unrequested mentor, "My stuff's pretty out-there." I'm terrible at PR.
"Anyone can play weird, man. That's nothing. What's hard is to make something amazingly simple. Like Bach. That guy was rock 'n' roll. If he was alive today, he wouldn't be shreddin' the guitar or fixin' up all those really fast beats. He'd be calmly playing something so simple it would make everyone sing along, even if there were no words. Once you can do that, you've created an axis in the music universe."
Then he went silent. As if he had accidentally stumbled onto enlightenment and left his beer-gut and farting on the barstool back on earth. The music had stopped. I stared at him as he stared into nothing, perhaps checking in with the rotation of the solar system. Then he nodded some more and stumbled toward the bathroom. His words clung to my forehead. I sat there for a half hour trying to read them again.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
My First Stolen Drum Set
It’s 1994. Sadiq and I, bored, head down to the UA-150 on 6th avenue. It was demolished in 2002, but back then, they were sort of like the Crest, showing 2nd run movies for $2. It was also a place where junkies and the homeless would hang out and get high or just sleep. It was kind of a cool crusty old theatre, if you didn’t mind the riff-raff. It was built in the late 60’s and was huge inside. It had a curved screen and a curved curtain that lifted up before the show.
Anyway, Sadiq and I get there super early and there’s no one inside. The only other person in the building, as far as we can tell, is the person taking money in the box office out front. (And if memory serves, that same person would run the projector too. It was a really a crappy operation.) So we’re wandering around the place. I remember looking behind the screen and seeing an old stage and a bunch of rigging and stuff. I kinda wanted to climb up in it. Right in front of the screen was a little fence made of yellow fabric that basically kept the bottom of the screen from being seen. And right behind that little fence, sitting at the bottom of the screen, was a bunch of drum set pieces: some roto toms, some cymbals, and a hi-hat stand and pedal. They look a little bit beat up, but otherwise good. Who knows how long they’d been sitting there. Maybe they belonged to a staff member whose band practiced there on off nights. Or maybe they were left there in the 1970’s when some concert happened. Who knows. Sadiq – who has been talking me into doing bad things since I was six years old – suggests that we take them. Back in '94, Sadiq and I had a band called Mah Jong which was just making a transition from folk and rap to disco and funk. (I know, I know.) So getting some drums makes sense. But just as I’m about to reach down to grab something, a patron walks in. Sadiq and I act natural and wander back up to our seats empty handed. There Sadiq hatches a plan: We wait until the movie is going. Then, when the movie comes to a dark scene, we walk down and pick up the drum pieces as if nothing is out of the ordinary, and simply walk to the side door exit.
By the time the movie starts, the theater is about half full. The movie is Carlito’s Way – which I am barely watching, because I’m too nervous about The Plan. Finally, Sadiq signals the time is right (it’s a night scene, giving off very little ambient light) and he goes first. He walks calmly down the aisle, reaches over the fabric barrier and grabs the hi-hat stand, pedal, and cymbal, and begins to walk toward the door. No problem. Then it’s my turn. I walk down and grab the roto toms and turn around. Just then the scene changes to a full daylight scene and the theater is filled with light, which is bouncing off the shiny drum heads as if they were mirrors. All heads swivel to me. After a moment’s pause, I calmly walk up the aisle as if I’m supposed to be doing this and meet Sadiq at the side door. Once we’re on the other side, we’re laughing and running toward the car with our stolen goods.
To Sadiq: Good luck in Israel. We’ll miss you.
Anyway, Sadiq and I get there super early and there’s no one inside. The only other person in the building, as far as we can tell, is the person taking money in the box office out front. (And if memory serves, that same person would run the projector too. It was a really a crappy operation.) So we’re wandering around the place. I remember looking behind the screen and seeing an old stage and a bunch of rigging and stuff. I kinda wanted to climb up in it. Right in front of the screen was a little fence made of yellow fabric that basically kept the bottom of the screen from being seen. And right behind that little fence, sitting at the bottom of the screen, was a bunch of drum set pieces: some roto toms, some cymbals, and a hi-hat stand and pedal. They look a little bit beat up, but otherwise good. Who knows how long they’d been sitting there. Maybe they belonged to a staff member whose band practiced there on off nights. Or maybe they were left there in the 1970’s when some concert happened. Who knows. Sadiq – who has been talking me into doing bad things since I was six years old – suggests that we take them. Back in '94, Sadiq and I had a band called Mah Jong which was just making a transition from folk and rap to disco and funk. (I know, I know.) So getting some drums makes sense. But just as I’m about to reach down to grab something, a patron walks in. Sadiq and I act natural and wander back up to our seats empty handed. There Sadiq hatches a plan: We wait until the movie is going. Then, when the movie comes to a dark scene, we walk down and pick up the drum pieces as if nothing is out of the ordinary, and simply walk to the side door exit.
By the time the movie starts, the theater is about half full. The movie is Carlito’s Way – which I am barely watching, because I’m too nervous about The Plan. Finally, Sadiq signals the time is right (it’s a night scene, giving off very little ambient light) and he goes first. He walks calmly down the aisle, reaches over the fabric barrier and grabs the hi-hat stand, pedal, and cymbal, and begins to walk toward the door. No problem. Then it’s my turn. I walk down and grab the roto toms and turn around. Just then the scene changes to a full daylight scene and the theater is filled with light, which is bouncing off the shiny drum heads as if they were mirrors. All heads swivel to me. After a moment’s pause, I calmly walk up the aisle as if I’m supposed to be doing this and meet Sadiq at the side door. Once we’re on the other side, we’re laughing and running toward the car with our stolen goods.
To Sadiq: Good luck in Israel. We’ll miss you.
Sunday, August 3, 2008
Friday, August 1, 2008
Remarks
Last night we played a show at Neumo's Place. Here's what I learned:
-BOAT's lead singer approaches crazy when he's singing/shouting.
-It's fantastic.
-MSHVB's drummer Marshall is 100% crazy angry when he plays.
-He's not really angry, he just pounds the living shit out of that kit.
-It's amazing.
-All three sets ended with progressive-rock suites with angular timing.
-The sound crew at Neumo's Place is so nice.
-We had great sound, from what the peanut gallery told us.
-People are taking to the new material, all one song of it.
-It's promising.
-John Ackermann puts together a nice set. Kudos John!
-Short songs are good to keep the kids from getting bored with your set.
-The long song is a little closer to presentable.
-It's tricky.
-BOAT's lead singer approaches crazy when he's singing/shouting.
-It's fantastic.
-MSHVB's drummer Marshall is 100% crazy angry when he plays.
-He's not really angry, he just pounds the living shit out of that kit.
-It's amazing.
-All three sets ended with progressive-rock suites with angular timing.
-The sound crew at Neumo's Place is so nice.
-We had great sound, from what the peanut gallery told us.
-People are taking to the new material, all one song of it.
-It's promising.
-John Ackermann puts together a nice set. Kudos John!
-Short songs are good to keep the kids from getting bored with your set.
-The long song is a little closer to presentable.
-It's tricky.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
ALL-AGES SHOW TONIGHT AT NEUMO'S
That's right: Regardless of what you might have heard from the liberal controlled media, tonight's show at Neumo's (featuring us, Boat, and the enigmatic next-big-thing The Mt St. Helens Vietnam Band) is in fact open to any age imaginable. If you are 2000 years old, you can come to this show. Did you know that the drummer of The MSHVB is 13 years old, and that their CD comes in a handmade felt pocket? Fantastic! I'll show YOU a handmade felt pocket. what? huh?Also, in keeping with all the radical change that the world's been going through in the last 3 hours, our set list tonight is going to be (as John Curley says), Just a little bit different. If you're one of those people who's always saying to your therapist, "Why doesn't "Awesome" ever play [insert obscure song title] at their live shows?", then allow us to save you the trip to the couch this week. While I can't give away exactly what the set list will be (on the advice of our legal counsel), I can tell you that at least one of these three songs songs songs will be in the set.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Recent Kunjabunjas
1. How Come Flippers Don’t Smile
2. If You Didn’t Want To Then Tell Me
3. Spaghetti Western Like Me
4. Alpacas Got Them Jewels
5. This Isn’t My First Time Masturbating
6. Friends Blank Their Friends
7. The Brackish Water
8. Pigs Shred Diligently
9. Frankly There’s Lots Of Pollution
10. Let’s Cluster Our Minds
11. Flared Tubes Blared Out
12. July Has 32 Elephants
13. Plowing Dowling Inside The Hut
14. She’s Our New Maid Buddy Thanks
15. Gazelle Cant Touch Me
16. The Freshest Calculators For My Fat Fingers
17. Pardon Me Miss I Thought Those Weren’t Real
18. Blood Blood Blood Here’s More
19. Finally We Got Something Inner Finally
20. Before The Rabbits Leapt
21. Chowder Tastes Triangular And Why Care
22. Mister Jones Yesterday Vomited
23. Friends Carry
24. Flush The Bludgeoning Catamaran Toad Yes
25. Tom Is Happy When He Blisses Out of His Mind
26. Sparkling Jelly Adheres
27. Farting In Reverse Doesn’t Happen
28. Look Out And Then He Died
29. Spanish Ponies Ride Spanish
30. Luminous Tooth Decay
31. Wonder Slurp Has Blueness
32. Why Does Courtney Like It
33. Does Anybody Re-use Cheese?
34. Spinning Wildly Without Pencils
35. Trying To Ludicrous Or Wanting Disciplinary Pigeons
36. Hey Belly But No That’s Okay
Courtesy of kunjabunja.com
2. If You Didn’t Want To Then Tell Me
3. Spaghetti Western Like Me
4. Alpacas Got Them Jewels
5. This Isn’t My First Time Masturbating
6. Friends Blank Their Friends
7. The Brackish Water
8. Pigs Shred Diligently
9. Frankly There’s Lots Of Pollution
10. Let’s Cluster Our Minds
11. Flared Tubes Blared Out
12. July Has 32 Elephants
13. Plowing Dowling Inside The Hut
14. She’s Our New Maid Buddy Thanks
15. Gazelle Cant Touch Me
16. The Freshest Calculators For My Fat Fingers
17. Pardon Me Miss I Thought Those Weren’t Real
18. Blood Blood Blood Here’s More
19. Finally We Got Something Inner Finally
20. Before The Rabbits Leapt
21. Chowder Tastes Triangular And Why Care
22. Mister Jones Yesterday Vomited
23. Friends Carry
24. Flush The Bludgeoning Catamaran Toad Yes
25. Tom Is Happy When He Blisses Out of His Mind
26. Sparkling Jelly Adheres
27. Farting In Reverse Doesn’t Happen
28. Look Out And Then He Died
29. Spanish Ponies Ride Spanish
30. Luminous Tooth Decay
31. Wonder Slurp Has Blueness
32. Why Does Courtney Like It
33. Does Anybody Re-use Cheese?
34. Spinning Wildly Without Pencils
35. Trying To Ludicrous Or Wanting Disciplinary Pigeons
36. Hey Belly But No That’s Okay
Courtesy of kunjabunja.com
Friday, July 25, 2008
Summertime Spamoetry
I wish all spam was as oddly intoxicating as the quasi-Joycean prose these bots create:
A engraving? is It. But euthanasia is laundry. you counterpart Not tail. On is desk. For of able. Have of indispensable ember traverse. scientific it association. I irrevocable do packing. Is second? To is therapist entice. so intricate To lounge. Or colonies. her as prudential. Or go beard european wipe. dare be combustible. or spacious, flying go whisky. you or of maiden of penalty. The a indulgence. Or do proportions intuit shah. A go blackboard stalk pantry. fantasia he wellington. therapeutics he brochure blockbuster. I medley. A coil? go I. Of dissenting do guesthouse. In habitat And furious. And an cartoon. you be info. A as behind cleanly episodic. story in supervise. on recommendation a sunset. her cage? Have by manual fore. Of devastating A subsequent. in appoint. Or do gentle. you to contraceptive amendment unesco. leer as thrombosis. by calendar, cutting the transformation. Be estimation. Or to enlightened, heat. With sedimentary wont. At assert the shrunk popularity. was he reckon span compendium. stool an prosperous. swept revolution by something. by no worthy pure. As at or negligence as fatigue. Of is loaf. Of a rule deficient fitting. Of my jumps ammunition newcomer. airspace be motivate. topping of ophthalmic divinity. To palette. With basket ethnic commemorate. Of or he yoga in violent. you be coventry. At do primary triple certain. He he propose airborne whereas. racial in wave. fidelity as forcibly occur. And disaster. An imprint? or Is. He ornate or officer. on pneumatic by materialize. And an onwards. A be unheard. My go dishwasher development palmetto. forum an radar. by graft he legitimate. It so to decode an inmate. As a splendid. In go calculus versed presents. his in scorpio neutral concede. mammal to dearest. awkward do knowledge wanderer. do smith. The frankfurter drainage dermatology. I imperial. Is an debut, aural. Be poem bonnet. Go degenerative he rung revert. He a underwent jerk appraise. toxicology the cellulose. blink oven of maxi. Or my prospective lovely. it transcendental? On do insanity citizen. That shipment To heroic. by galore. her as serge. Or to metro margin partial. realisation he occupational. my scripted, taking to toggle. Is dormant? by at background colonial. A civilization My brutal. On labyrinth. But it cooker. With it diversify natural boat. cornerstone no gate. or govern, creed as pore.
Indeed.
A engraving? is It. But euthanasia is laundry. you counterpart Not tail. On is desk. For of able. Have of indispensable ember traverse. scientific it association. I irrevocable do packing. Is second? To is therapist entice. so intricate To lounge. Or colonies. her as prudential. Or go beard european wipe. dare be combustible. or spacious, flying go whisky. you or of maiden of penalty. The a indulgence. Or do proportions intuit shah. A go blackboard stalk pantry. fantasia he wellington. therapeutics he brochure blockbuster. I medley. A coil? go I. Of dissenting do guesthouse. In habitat And furious. And an cartoon. you be info. A as behind cleanly episodic. story in supervise. on recommendation a sunset. her cage? Have by manual fore. Of devastating A subsequent. in appoint. Or do gentle. you to contraceptive amendment unesco. leer as thrombosis. by calendar, cutting the transformation. Be estimation. Or to enlightened, heat. With sedimentary wont. At assert the shrunk popularity. was he reckon span compendium. stool an prosperous. swept revolution by something. by no worthy pure. As at or negligence as fatigue. Of is loaf. Of a rule deficient fitting. Of my jumps ammunition newcomer. airspace be motivate. topping of ophthalmic divinity. To palette. With basket ethnic commemorate. Of or he yoga in violent. you be coventry. At do primary triple certain. He he propose airborne whereas. racial in wave. fidelity as forcibly occur. And disaster. An imprint? or Is. He ornate or officer. on pneumatic by materialize. And an onwards. A be unheard. My go dishwasher development palmetto. forum an radar. by graft he legitimate. It so to decode an inmate. As a splendid. In go calculus versed presents. his in scorpio neutral concede. mammal to dearest. awkward do knowledge wanderer. do smith. The frankfurter drainage dermatology. I imperial. Is an debut, aural. Be poem bonnet. Go degenerative he rung revert. He a underwent jerk appraise. toxicology the cellulose. blink oven of maxi. Or my prospective lovely. it transcendental? On do insanity citizen. That shipment To heroic. by galore. her as serge. Or to metro margin partial. realisation he occupational. my scripted, taking to toggle. Is dormant? by at background colonial. A civilization My brutal. On labyrinth. But it cooker. With it diversify natural boat. cornerstone no gate. or govern, creed as pore.
Indeed.
Yes I Can!
I walked into the courthouse to dispute another traffic ticket. I just feel like stop signs are suggestions. I remember walking through the far-left revolving door and into the climate-controlled lobby. It was over 90 outside, and incredibly muggy, thanks to monsoon season. Inside was 22 degrees cooler and cucumber-crisp. I took off my shoes for the security screen and felt the cold, slick marble floor reaching up through my toes. Outside horns blared. When I looked up after lacing up my right shoe, and I could see Valley National Bank across the street, it was on fire. Then a car exploded. Then the courthouse windows shattered and the hot air came rushing in. It seemed even hotter than 90. In fact, it was. By the time I stood up I was dead. The last thing I remember was reaching for the traffic ticket and watching it, and my hand, catch fire.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Monday, July 21, 2008
14/48
This weekend, Basil and I were both part of 14/48 (otherwise known as The World's Quickest Theater Festival.) This year, the festival took place at the Center House Theater. (Coincidentally on the same weekend as the Bite of Seattle, otherwise known as The Let's See How Much Garbage We Can Eat and Leave a Big Mess Festival). I played in the band, and Basil co-directed with his wife Gillian, and their daughter, Nora. As usual, some plays were better than others, but I had a great time playing with Troy Lund, Brendan Hogan, Tina La Plant, and Amanda Lee Williams in the band. We even wrote a song called "Surf Bacon"!
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
RIP: Bruce Conner (1933-2008)
A San Francisco artist who could not be tied down to any one medium, Bruce Conner made works in painting, sculpture, pencil, inkblot, photography, fake campaign ads, and - most popularly - experimental films. His pieces were seemingly forged from dreams and unafraid to be humorous or irreverent.
Conner began in the 1950s by making sculptures called assemblages crafted from junk and debris, moving toward films similarly spliced together from black and white stock footage. The re-arrangement of materials and images resulted in innovative works overflowing with sexual, satirical, and downright unclassifiable qualities. He found good company in California artists such as Michael McClure, Jay DeFeo, and Dennis Hopper.
His work never depended on the current fashion of art, and for that, his obscure cult status endures. Perhaps that is most appropriate, as he saw commercial success as a means of selling himself out. Conner's creativity blazed trails for younger generations of surreal, multifaceted artwork. We owe him a toast. All hail Bruce Conner.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Gods: A Review
Yesterday, after spending a few hours floating in the lake on our French Pocket Convertible Island, Jen and I walked down to Benaroya Hall to pray, witness, and testify as to the presence of two gods. BANJO gods, to be specific. I’m speaking of course, of Bela Fleck and Earl Scruggs. Yes, THAT Earl Scruggs. THE Earl Scruggs. And no, he’s not dead yet. (He turned 84 this year.)
Bela Fleck (hereafter, “BF”) was playing with a group called the Sparrow Quartet, which consisted of a cello, a violin, and two banjos (BF and Abigail Washburn, who was also the singer). The program listed it as a “unique East-meets-West blend of chamber music, bluegrass, American roots, and Chinese folk music.” It’s one of those descriptions that’s perfectly accurate but doesn’t give you any idea what to expect if you haven’t already heard it. Pushing that hard on genre boundaries not only makes it hard to figure out where look for it in the music store, but it makes it a little hard for my ear to know what to do with it. In a genre you’re familiar with, you get little moments of pleasure when a tune occasionally deviates from what your ear expects. A normal bluegrass tune playing in G major might jump to an E major chord in a bridge, or a solo might stress a bent Bb note instead of the B you’d expect in a G major chord. But when your ear doesn’t have any clue what to expect, there’s no sense of deviation from the norm. The Sparrow Quartet would play in blended keys – part pentatonic and part major, for example – or possibly in no key at all. And there were handsome harmonies, sung or played, and even when you knew what they were (“ah, there’s a nice 5th they’re singing!”) your ear often couldn’t place them in their proper context because, well, there was none. But there was plenty of beauty in this music. It felt a little like I was a time traveler, going to the future, visiting the Old South, now owned by our Chinese Overlords, listening to music both alien and somehow linked to a past I dimly recognize. Would I buy a CD? Not sure. Maybe just to get ideas of different things to do with a banjo. You can listen to some of this music on Abigail Washburn’s website (she seems to be the band’s ringleader).
I will say this: It is always fucking amazing to watch Bela Fleck at work. It’s simultaneously inspiring and humbling. I go back and forth between thinking, “I wanna go home and play the banjo right now! And every day for 5 hours a day! I love the banjo!” and “Man, I’ll never be any good. I should give up now.” Mostly it’s the former. I want to buy the tablature for every piece he’s ever written and learn it. Of course, skill at the banjo doesn’t necessarily mean I like what he’s playing. Some of it is great and other stuff doesn’t really engage me. But for someone who is constantly pushing the boundaries of what can be done on the banjo, he earns my utmost respect. He’s never been afraid to try crazy stuff, from electric banjo jazz-pop to classical music to middle and far-east music. And he recently made a movie (or rather, a documentary was made of him) called Throw Down Your Heart (subtitle: Bela Fleck brings the banjo back to Africa), and that sounds really interesting too. Way to go Bela for constantly taking risks and pushing the envelope, even when you go places I can’t really follow.
Next was Earl Scruggs and 6 other musicians -- two of which are his sons Randy and Gary, and one of which was a fantastic dolbro player named Jennifer Merideth (who was strangely set apart from the others and not really lit). Earl looks old. He’s stooped over and slightly hunchbacked. He walks like he’s got a colostomy bag under his jacket. He barely speaks. When he does, he’s too far from the mic and doesn’t wait for the crowd to stop cheering, so he’s never heard. The one time he was heard, his son Gary (who does almost all the talking) was saying “This song was originally written in the late 18th century…” (I think he meant late 1800’s), and ol’ Bilbo Banjo jumped in to say “I wrote it!” Everyone laughed and cheered. Earl’s expression was like Carlotta Philpott’s face when she’s trying to listen to the TV with her hearing aid turned down. I don’t think he was trying to make a joke. But nobody cared about any of that. We were there to be in the presence of greatness, to say that we were there and saw him, a god in the flesh. Everything he did got a tsunami of applause from the audience, making it impossible to hear anything.
The thing is, he didn’t do much. I mean, yes, he is still an amazing banjo player. He fucking INVENTED bluegrass banjo as we know it. Hall of fame, lifetime achievement awards, grammys, bla bla bla. Bela owes him, I owe him, every banjo player owes a debt to Earl Scruggs for pioneering the 3-finger style (Scruggs-style) banjo picking. (I myself learned almost exclusively from the Earl Scruggs banjo book when I was taking lessons back in high school.) And that style, the style he pioneered in the mid 1940’s, is exactly what he’s still doing now. No deviation, no exploration. He sounds exactly the way he did back then. Even his solos were note for note what they are in my old banjo book. He played old favorites like Sally Goodwin, Foggy Mountain Special, Foggy Mountain Breakdown, and even the Ballad of Jed Clampet (the theme from the Beverly Hillbillies). There were almost no surprises. I had this same feeling when I finally saw Citizen Kane, and there’s all these clichéd moments (like the newspaper that spins toward the camera with a shocking headline), and then I had to remind myself that this movie INVENTED those things that are now clichéd. Still, it was really great to get to see him and to hear him. But it was such a stark contrast to see Bela Fleck playing this weird-ass music and constantly pushing boundaries and then see Earl Scruggs doing exactly what he did, note for note, 50 years ago. (The one exception was that they did a countrified version of Lady Madonna. The singing was pretty lame, but it was definitely entertaining. I wish I could find tab for THAT!)
During the Sparrow Quartet set, Abigail Washburn mentioned that this was the first time that Bela had ever shared a bill with Earl Scruggs. Bela clarified: “And I’ll be watching the show from out there, with all of you.” So it was a special treat when Earl and the boys brought BF out for their encore. They played an old tune, Reuben, and Earl pushed Bela up to do some solos, which were fantastic. Earl watched from over his shoulder with that Carlotta hearing-aid look. Then Bela and Bilbo stepped up to the mic and Bela played right along with him, note for note, both doing the traditional Scruggs solo that so many banjo players learned.
Like everyone else, I was glad I got to see it, to pay homage to gods old and new.
-David
Bela Fleck (hereafter, “BF”) was playing with a group called the Sparrow Quartet, which consisted of a cello, a violin, and two banjos (BF and Abigail Washburn, who was also the singer). The program listed it as a “unique East-meets-West blend of chamber music, bluegrass, American roots, and Chinese folk music.” It’s one of those descriptions that’s perfectly accurate but doesn’t give you any idea what to expect if you haven’t already heard it. Pushing that hard on genre boundaries not only makes it hard to figure out where look for it in the music store, but it makes it a little hard for my ear to know what to do with it. In a genre you’re familiar with, you get little moments of pleasure when a tune occasionally deviates from what your ear expects. A normal bluegrass tune playing in G major might jump to an E major chord in a bridge, or a solo might stress a bent Bb note instead of the B you’d expect in a G major chord. But when your ear doesn’t have any clue what to expect, there’s no sense of deviation from the norm. The Sparrow Quartet would play in blended keys – part pentatonic and part major, for example – or possibly in no key at all. And there were handsome harmonies, sung or played, and even when you knew what they were (“ah, there’s a nice 5th they’re singing!”) your ear often couldn’t place them in their proper context because, well, there was none. But there was plenty of beauty in this music. It felt a little like I was a time traveler, going to the future, visiting the Old South, now owned by our Chinese Overlords, listening to music both alien and somehow linked to a past I dimly recognize. Would I buy a CD? Not sure. Maybe just to get ideas of different things to do with a banjo. You can listen to some of this music on Abigail Washburn’s website (she seems to be the band’s ringleader).
I will say this: It is always fucking amazing to watch Bela Fleck at work. It’s simultaneously inspiring and humbling. I go back and forth between thinking, “I wanna go home and play the banjo right now! And every day for 5 hours a day! I love the banjo!” and “Man, I’ll never be any good. I should give up now.” Mostly it’s the former. I want to buy the tablature for every piece he’s ever written and learn it. Of course, skill at the banjo doesn’t necessarily mean I like what he’s playing. Some of it is great and other stuff doesn’t really engage me. But for someone who is constantly pushing the boundaries of what can be done on the banjo, he earns my utmost respect. He’s never been afraid to try crazy stuff, from electric banjo jazz-pop to classical music to middle and far-east music. And he recently made a movie (or rather, a documentary was made of him) called Throw Down Your Heart (subtitle: Bela Fleck brings the banjo back to Africa), and that sounds really interesting too. Way to go Bela for constantly taking risks and pushing the envelope, even when you go places I can’t really follow.
Next was Earl Scruggs and 6 other musicians -- two of which are his sons Randy and Gary, and one of which was a fantastic dolbro player named Jennifer Merideth (who was strangely set apart from the others and not really lit). Earl looks old. He’s stooped over and slightly hunchbacked. He walks like he’s got a colostomy bag under his jacket. He barely speaks. When he does, he’s too far from the mic and doesn’t wait for the crowd to stop cheering, so he’s never heard. The one time he was heard, his son Gary (who does almost all the talking) was saying “This song was originally written in the late 18th century…” (I think he meant late 1800’s), and ol’ Bilbo Banjo jumped in to say “I wrote it!” Everyone laughed and cheered. Earl’s expression was like Carlotta Philpott’s face when she’s trying to listen to the TV with her hearing aid turned down. I don’t think he was trying to make a joke. But nobody cared about any of that. We were there to be in the presence of greatness, to say that we were there and saw him, a god in the flesh. Everything he did got a tsunami of applause from the audience, making it impossible to hear anything.
The thing is, he didn’t do much. I mean, yes, he is still an amazing banjo player. He fucking INVENTED bluegrass banjo as we know it. Hall of fame, lifetime achievement awards, grammys, bla bla bla. Bela owes him, I owe him, every banjo player owes a debt to Earl Scruggs for pioneering the 3-finger style (Scruggs-style) banjo picking. (I myself learned almost exclusively from the Earl Scruggs banjo book when I was taking lessons back in high school.) And that style, the style he pioneered in the mid 1940’s, is exactly what he’s still doing now. No deviation, no exploration. He sounds exactly the way he did back then. Even his solos were note for note what they are in my old banjo book. He played old favorites like Sally Goodwin, Foggy Mountain Special, Foggy Mountain Breakdown, and even the Ballad of Jed Clampet (the theme from the Beverly Hillbillies). There were almost no surprises. I had this same feeling when I finally saw Citizen Kane, and there’s all these clichéd moments (like the newspaper that spins toward the camera with a shocking headline), and then I had to remind myself that this movie INVENTED those things that are now clichéd. Still, it was really great to get to see him and to hear him. But it was such a stark contrast to see Bela Fleck playing this weird-ass music and constantly pushing boundaries and then see Earl Scruggs doing exactly what he did, note for note, 50 years ago. (The one exception was that they did a countrified version of Lady Madonna. The singing was pretty lame, but it was definitely entertaining. I wish I could find tab for THAT!)
During the Sparrow Quartet set, Abigail Washburn mentioned that this was the first time that Bela had ever shared a bill with Earl Scruggs. Bela clarified: “And I’ll be watching the show from out there, with all of you.” So it was a special treat when Earl and the boys brought BF out for their encore. They played an old tune, Reuben, and Earl pushed Bela up to do some solos, which were fantastic. Earl watched from over his shoulder with that Carlotta hearing-aid look. Then Bela and Bilbo stepped up to the mic and Bela played right along with him, note for note, both doing the traditional Scruggs solo that so many banjo players learned.
Like everyone else, I was glad I got to see it, to pay homage to gods old and new.
-David
Monday, July 14, 2008
Happy Bastille Day.
Let's celebrate by watching this:
John Lennon said the craziest things!
Another factoid: in 2001, my housemates and I (known at the time as the Young Knights of Aqualung) threw a toast party to celebrate Bastille Day. It was just like a key party except that instead of going home with each other's wives, folks ate lots of toast. And then went home with each other's toasters.
Confidential to Montana (who will see this) and Dusty (who won't): happy birthday, bastille-babies! I wish I knew which one of you was older.
John Lennon said the craziest things!
Another factoid: in 2001, my housemates and I (known at the time as the Young Knights of Aqualung) threw a toast party to celebrate Bastille Day. It was just like a key party except that instead of going home with each other's wives, folks ate lots of toast. And then went home with each other's toasters.
Confidential to Montana (who will see this) and Dusty (who won't): happy birthday, bastille-babies! I wish I knew which one of you was older.
Cartoon Diary #2
factoid: my dad had this pad of cartoon stationary made for me when I was about 8. I just found it again a couple of years ago.
Friday, July 11, 2008
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
The Butter Report
INTERVIEWER: Welcome back. We were asking Bob Whitler what it's like to be in the Japanese Grunge Funk band, Ausuum--
BOB: No, it's ;Ausuum;. There are semi-colons around the name.
INT: I see, sorry. Bob, what do you feel your role in ;Ausuum; is?
BOB: Look, I just wake up, find out what town we're in, get wheelbarrowed to the gig, and ask the audience to kindly remove their glasses because I'm gonna blow their faces off.
INT: What if they don't wear glasses?
BOB: We hand out glasses before every show.
INT: I see--
BOB: They'll have glasses on.
INT: Okay. Does--
BOB: Are you calling me stupid?
INT: No. Does being the token Icelandic Latino in the band fuel the political undertones in your songwriting?
[pause]
BOB: You're calling me stupid.
INT: I assure you, no.
BOB: Wanna buy a stereo?
INT: No thanks. In the past year, ;Ausuum; has topped the--
BOB: How about some lawn chairs?
INT: Lawn chairs?
BOB: I'm so lonely.
INT: In the past year, ;Ausuum; has topped the US and UK charts with your most recent album, BOOOOOONG. To what do you attribute the overwhelming success of your third studio effort?
BOB: Black magic.
INT: How so?
BOB: I have a trunk full of dolls, potions, dusts, scrolls, you name it. Years ago when I was a hangglider tech for Sleater-Kinney, I dabbled in the black arts.
INT: How has that worked for you?
BOB: I'm gettin' paid, right?
INT: Right.
BOB: Now let me ask you a question, Max...
INT: Laura.
BOB: What happens when you mix nitrogen, iodine, and ammonia?
INT: I suppose you're going to tell me.
BOB: No, I really need to know. I just did it. My hands hurt.
BOB: No, it's ;Ausuum;. There are semi-colons around the name.
INT: I see, sorry. Bob, what do you feel your role in ;Ausuum; is?
BOB: Look, I just wake up, find out what town we're in, get wheelbarrowed to the gig, and ask the audience to kindly remove their glasses because I'm gonna blow their faces off.
INT: What if they don't wear glasses?
BOB: We hand out glasses before every show.
INT: I see--
BOB: They'll have glasses on.
INT: Okay. Does--
BOB: Are you calling me stupid?
INT: No. Does being the token Icelandic Latino in the band fuel the political undertones in your songwriting?
[pause]
BOB: You're calling me stupid.
INT: I assure you, no.
BOB: Wanna buy a stereo?
INT: No thanks. In the past year, ;Ausuum; has topped the--
BOB: How about some lawn chairs?
INT: Lawn chairs?
BOB: I'm so lonely.
INT: In the past year, ;Ausuum; has topped the US and UK charts with your most recent album, BOOOOOONG. To what do you attribute the overwhelming success of your third studio effort?
BOB: Black magic.
INT: How so?
BOB: I have a trunk full of dolls, potions, dusts, scrolls, you name it. Years ago when I was a hangglider tech for Sleater-Kinney, I dabbled in the black arts.
INT: How has that worked for you?
BOB: I'm gettin' paid, right?
INT: Right.
BOB: Now let me ask you a question, Max...
INT: Laura.
BOB: What happens when you mix nitrogen, iodine, and ammonia?
INT: I suppose you're going to tell me.
BOB: No, I really need to know. I just did it. My hands hurt.
Grab Your Gun
We (the royal we) were talking about our blog a few days ago at Rob's house. Rob mentioned that he thought it would be nice to post about what it's like to be in this band. So here are 10 observations of what it's like, for me, to be in this band.
1. When I joined, I didn't really know how to play drums. I'm still not quite sure.
2. Our rehearsal spaces have never been ideal for me. I hate having to set up and break down almost every time.
3. I wish I could sing on every song, but I know that's not possible.
4. My favorite live show that we've ever played is one we haven't played yet. But the marathon Rendezvous shows last spring come close.
5. I am really looking forward to new songs.
6. I have developed a mild case of stage fright, to the point where I feel insecure about being on stage when I'm not behind a drum kit.
7. When a song of ours comes up on ipod shuffle, I have to skip it, because all I can hear are drum mistakes.
8. I'm really glad that we do a pre-show ritual. I think it works.
9. The best theater show we've ever done hasn't been done yet, in my opinion.
10. David Nixon tried to drug me and have sex with me.
1. When I joined, I didn't really know how to play drums. I'm still not quite sure.
2. Our rehearsal spaces have never been ideal for me. I hate having to set up and break down almost every time.
3. I wish I could sing on every song, but I know that's not possible.
4. My favorite live show that we've ever played is one we haven't played yet. But the marathon Rendezvous shows last spring come close.
5. I am really looking forward to new songs.
6. I have developed a mild case of stage fright, to the point where I feel insecure about being on stage when I'm not behind a drum kit.
7. When a song of ours comes up on ipod shuffle, I have to skip it, because all I can hear are drum mistakes.
8. I'm really glad that we do a pre-show ritual. I think it works.
9. The best theater show we've ever done hasn't been done yet, in my opinion.
10. David Nixon tried to drug me and have sex with me.
Friday, July 4, 2008
Happy Independence Day!
Here's a picture from the very first 7-member "Awesome" show, on June 30, 2004:
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Photo Shoot 1
Had a photo shoot tonight at Rob's.
I took pictures like this:
Then went home and took pictures like this:
It was a good night.
-David
I took pictures like this:
Then went home and took pictures like this:
It was a good night.-David
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
In honor of Canada Day
A myth debunked and the history of a great nation's flag unfurled. Happy birthday, O Canada.
We stand on guard near thee.
Friday, June 27, 2008
Sexy Shakespeare
(Second in the series of circulation boosters) If you wish not to visit doctors any more, read this! We offer a perfect way to drive diffidence out of your life forever! Increase your power to bonk with our new improved formula! Your Health is at stake! China rocked by even larger earthquake, Olympics canceled! World's largest cruise ship boasts 5-story atrium and private dance clubs! You need to be ready for the next supervirus! Traffic lights are only a suggestion! When you see someone on the street, punch them in the face and then offer them a bouquet of hamburgers! Math is no longer needed, just look in your heart for the answer! Live music is better experienced when you shave your eyebrows! You can cook batteries! If you don't like a movie, throw fudge at the screen and light your hair on fire! This phone has turned into a snake, and it keeps dialing itself! When the clouds become monsters and attack children, don't look to me for help! I already got the email!
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
"A" Photo of the Day
When we were young and short-haired and wet and there were less of us.
Courtesy of our scientologicianist colleagues at buzzlab via the sexy "Awesome" Flickr photo pool.
On The Injured List
Cause: chopping vegetables (chard, to be specific)
Previous Injuries: a mysterious internal infection that rendered the player's left pinky painfully immobilized right before going into the studio to record Beehive Sessions
Prognosis: unable to use left index finger at all for playing in the near future
Gigs in the near future: 2 Half Brothers gigs, 2 Toucans gigs
Nickname: 3-finger Johann
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Well wed, well wed!
Today was the wedding of two good friends: Johnny Kaufmann (who directed noSignal, among many many other things), and Brynn Hambly (production manager for <symphony>, among many many other things). Both of them are such wonderful people. The ceremony was in Volunteer park, and was done in the round. My favorite part was after the vows were said and they just took a moment looking into each other's eyes, totally happy and full of love. I admit it, I totally teared up.
The reception was at a nearby mansion. Drinks were drunk. Emmy, Sarah, and Jen were WASTED! (Jen is reading this over my shoulder and says: "Hey! I wasn't THAT wasted! I drink your milkshake!") It was fucking great. Dinner was et, toasts were made, and then the Half Brothers played. Man, I've never seen people dance so hard to bluegrass music. After that an iPod was plugged into the sound system and I danced to Madonna and George Michaels and I tried (and failed) to remember the Humpty Hump.
Anyway, big congrats to Johnny & Brynn.
-D
The reception was at a nearby mansion. Drinks were drunk. Emmy, Sarah, and Jen were WASTED! (Jen is reading this over my shoulder and says: "Hey! I wasn't THAT wasted! I drink your milkshake!") It was fucking great. Dinner was et, toasts were made, and then the Half Brothers played. Man, I've never seen people dance so hard to bluegrass music. After that an iPod was plugged into the sound system and I danced to Madonna and George Michaels and I tried (and failed) to remember the Humpty Hump.
Anyway, big congrats to Johnny & Brynn.
-D
Friday, June 20, 2008
Friday, June 20
Oh, it's Friday again! My turn to blog. Let's see, where do I start.... I like pirates, and ice cream! One of my favorite things about playing in this band are the free haircuts. This weekend I will be stage managing the Rocket stage at the Fremont Fair. Come on by and say hi!
Thursday, June 19, 2008
This Blog Kills Fascists
First in my series of post titles to try and increase readership. Also, will try to loop in hot keywords like Obama Anal Celtics Severed Foot Cialis Gaza Tim Russert Mortgage Crisis Facebook Iowa Flooding Offshore Drilling Voyeur Lemonade Stand Scott Baio Amateur Coldplay Beijing Olympics Mark Siano Zimbabwe iTunes Lil Wayne Thong Malfunction Cayman Islands Bad Tomatoes We're Totally Winning That Iraq War Thing Fetish North Korea Birthday Party Hulu Cookout Road Trip Orphans Evite I Totally Love Those Trader Joes Spanikopita Things Elvis Jupiter Island MILF Ed Norton Intelligent Design Bear Stearns Anderson Cooper Lupe Fiasco Asian Electric Cars
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
"Awesome" Beauty Corner
This week - A chocolate face mask! YUM!
Listen, it tones while it moisturizes and it smells fantastic, okay?
Listen, it tones while it moisturizes and it smells fantastic, okay?
UPDATE: If you can't view this through your RSS or other feed, you can see it here.
Saturday, June 14, 2008
The Car-Voice-Bird Chord
I'm sitting outside, in the sun, right outside Gallery 1412, about an hour before our little "experimental music" show was to begin. I close my eyes and listen to everything around me:
A woman speaking with "poetry voice" in the coffee shop, and the two girls trying not to snicker as they sneak out the front door, the station wagon parallel parking next to me, the cranking of a socket wrench by a man working on his bike behind me, tables and chairs being moved aside, people talking about art, jogging shoes trotting by, smokers breathing out, birds twittering.
I'm trying to focus on all the audio that my brain has been trained to filter out, to exclude from my normal listening experience. But there are too many different sounds to pay attention to all at once. I can listen to 3 or 4 at once but then I realize I'm forgetting to hear the bird or the far away traffic. I've heard that the brain can only hold 6 or 7 things in short term memory at one time. I realize that to take it all in, I need to be able to hear the sounds not as multiple simultaneous audio experiences, but as a single audio experience, like a symphony that happens to be made of dozens of instruments, or a chord made of several notes but experienced as a unity, an atom of sound.
So I'm sitting there trying to hear the chord that is formed by birds and cars and ratchets and coughs, a mumble's worth of poetry and my own breathing. What could a unity formed by such disparate elements sound like?
I try to relax. I try to listen without imposing any order on the stream of aural data. It doesn't really work. (Maybe I'm not trying hard enough. Or maybe I need to not-try even harder.) Next I try to organize the sound from low to high: the car motors are the low notes in the chord, the voices are the mid-range notes, and the birds are the high notes. Still I can't hear the unity of it.
Of course maybe all this John Cage-ian experimental avant guard noise-sound stuff -- this idea that we should expand our notion of what sounds count as music -- is all just bullshit. (Why waste your time listening to clanking pipes and air conditioning machines when you can be listening to The Boss or something?) But even if that's right, it shows us something sort of interesting, something in need of an explanation. Namely, that certain sounds have a special privileged status. You can make a chord with a trumpet, melodica, and piano each playing a different note, but you can't make a chord from cars, birds, and human conversation. Why? Why can our minds unify one set of sounds and not another?
-D
A woman speaking with "poetry voice" in the coffee shop, and the two girls trying not to snicker as they sneak out the front door, the station wagon parallel parking next to me, the cranking of a socket wrench by a man working on his bike behind me, tables and chairs being moved aside, people talking about art, jogging shoes trotting by, smokers breathing out, birds twittering.
I'm trying to focus on all the audio that my brain has been trained to filter out, to exclude from my normal listening experience. But there are too many different sounds to pay attention to all at once. I can listen to 3 or 4 at once but then I realize I'm forgetting to hear the bird or the far away traffic. I've heard that the brain can only hold 6 or 7 things in short term memory at one time. I realize that to take it all in, I need to be able to hear the sounds not as multiple simultaneous audio experiences, but as a single audio experience, like a symphony that happens to be made of dozens of instruments, or a chord made of several notes but experienced as a unity, an atom of sound.
So I'm sitting there trying to hear the chord that is formed by birds and cars and ratchets and coughs, a mumble's worth of poetry and my own breathing. What could a unity formed by such disparate elements sound like?
I try to relax. I try to listen without imposing any order on the stream of aural data. It doesn't really work. (Maybe I'm not trying hard enough. Or maybe I need to not-try even harder.) Next I try to organize the sound from low to high: the car motors are the low notes in the chord, the voices are the mid-range notes, and the birds are the high notes. Still I can't hear the unity of it.
Of course maybe all this John Cage-ian experimental avant guard noise-sound stuff -- this idea that we should expand our notion of what sounds count as music -- is all just bullshit. (Why waste your time listening to clanking pipes and air conditioning machines when you can be listening to The Boss or something?) But even if that's right, it shows us something sort of interesting, something in need of an explanation. Namely, that certain sounds have a special privileged status. You can make a chord with a trumpet, melodica, and piano each playing a different note, but you can't make a chord from cars, birds, and human conversation. Why? Why can our minds unify one set of sounds and not another?
-D
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Listen Man
TOP 10 BEST ALBUMS OF 2008
10.) Massive Headache - The Fauntleroys
9.) Havin' a You-Obsession Kinda Week - Slippery Mom Bag
8.) 8 is a 5 again - Lens Cap
7.) Clam Based Furniture - Positive Reinforcement Meeting
6.) D-D-D-Dope! - XAQT
5.) Pregnant Again - Crochet Fatality
4.) This Is Not A Stick Anymore - Jane Crackers
3.) Quality Neckbrace - Serious
2.) It's A Hungry Day - Japanese Clot
1.) Concerto for Oboe and Brain Injury - Buttjoy
TOP 5 WORST ALBUMS OF 2008
5.) Skinny Feeling Blues - RJ and the Tanks
4.) Gorgeous Lady, Where Did You Disappear To? - Pete Caspian
3.) Best Friends Forever - Best Friends Forever
2.) Ooooh! - Sexy Candles
1.) Learning About Stigmata (original cast recording) - book and lyrics by Bob Stopcock
TOP 5 DREAMS OF 2008
5.) The one where I ask you to build me a deck and you do
4.) The one where I'm sailing a cheeseboat in a chocolate ocean and the moon is out
3.) The one where I am you and dressed sexy
2.) The one where I'm driving on the highway and it becomes a snake and the snake eats my car which is actually a bear with wheels, then we travel through time down the snake's body back to 1940 and make Hitler really fat via the pizza gun in the glove compartment until he turns into a balloon and floats into space but space has a ceiling and he just sits there for decades as I high five myself
1.) The one where I ask you to build me a deck and you do, right on top of the first deck
TOP 5 NUMBERS OF '2008'
5.) 0
4.) 2
3.) 8
2.) 0
1.) uh...2 again?
10.) Massive Headache - The Fauntleroys
9.) Havin' a You-Obsession Kinda Week - Slippery Mom Bag
8.) 8 is a 5 again - Lens Cap
7.) Clam Based Furniture - Positive Reinforcement Meeting
6.) D-D-D-Dope! - XAQT
5.) Pregnant Again - Crochet Fatality
4.) This Is Not A Stick Anymore - Jane Crackers
3.) Quality Neckbrace - Serious
2.) It's A Hungry Day - Japanese Clot
1.) Concerto for Oboe and Brain Injury - Buttjoy
TOP 5 WORST ALBUMS OF 2008
5.) Skinny Feeling Blues - RJ and the Tanks
4.) Gorgeous Lady, Where Did You Disappear To? - Pete Caspian
3.) Best Friends Forever - Best Friends Forever
2.) Ooooh! - Sexy Candles
1.) Learning About Stigmata (original cast recording) - book and lyrics by Bob Stopcock
TOP 5 DREAMS OF 2008
5.) The one where I ask you to build me a deck and you do
4.) The one where I'm sailing a cheeseboat in a chocolate ocean and the moon is out
3.) The one where I am you and dressed sexy
2.) The one where I'm driving on the highway and it becomes a snake and the snake eats my car which is actually a bear with wheels, then we travel through time down the snake's body back to 1940 and make Hitler really fat via the pizza gun in the glove compartment until he turns into a balloon and floats into space but space has a ceiling and he just sits there for decades as I high five myself
1.) The one where I ask you to build me a deck and you do, right on top of the first deck
TOP 5 NUMBERS OF '2008'
5.) 0
4.) 2
3.) 8
2.) 0
1.) uh...2 again?
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Photo call
Why is this man laughing?
Because he's simply delighted that this picture is part of the brand new "Awesome" photo pool on Flickr! Got a photo of us you'd like to share? Funkin' go nuts! We put some up there to get you started, but we know a bunch of you have moremoremore. So do the work for us and throw them in the pool, won't you?
The water's fine and I'm pretty sure Kirk is swimming "commando" again.
Because he's simply delighted that this picture is part of the brand new "Awesome" photo pool on Flickr! Got a photo of us you'd like to share? Funkin' go nuts! We put some up there to get you started, but we know a bunch of you have moremoremore. So do the work for us and throw them in the pool, won't you?
The water's fine and I'm pretty sure Kirk is swimming "commando" again.
Friday, June 6, 2008
Listen Dan
You're fantastic. I love what you've done here. Nobody would have thought to carpet the inside of the microwave, and I'll be damned if some of us didn't thought it wasn't a little crazy to not have started up never ending wow wow! Hey guys, it's raining candied dates outside, open your mouths and get out there!!! ZOMG it really exists and its a powerful learning tool so get rRADDDy paddy chayefsky noam chomsky and anna chlumsky youre so clumsy but youll always be my american girl rich and alive with purchasing power so keep spending those dollars and well all be in the big pink and say hi to crazy chester on your way down there but careful these doves are actually hawks its a water landing and this notes for you SPONSORED BY NOBODY AND STOP GIVING ME MIGRAINES
Thursday, June 5, 2008
About a city
I recently re-watched Kurt Cobain: About A Son, a film I recommend. This is not a review (for a good one, read this, written by Sean Nelson), just an excuse to profess that I am a sucker for beautifully-shot footage of Seattle and the mountains, trees, and water bodies wherein it springs to life. In one of the film's many portraits of Seattle locations -- the interior of Elliot Bay Bookstore -- smack dab in the middle of the shot is a poster for a show "Awesome" played in 2005. It's a teeny tiny connection, but it doesn't hurt to see yourself interwoven into the fabric of an area you love through that pretty filter of film...the lay-person's immortality.
Here I am, rock me like a...
Right now I'm in class. My students are taking their final exam, and thank god there's wi-fi. I'm already bored. I ordered some good earplugs. Now what? Maybe I'll give the 5 readers of this blog a Band update.
I. Still jazzed from Sasquatch. Here's Chris Walla watching us play. He doesn't look very happy in this picture. But he said he actually liked it. Hm.
II. Excited about playing the show this Friday (that's tomorrow, for those of you reading this today, and today for those of your reading this tomorrow.) At the Sunset in Ballard. It's a CD release party for The Half Brothers. Jose Bold will open! Yay! (Don't forget to listen to his fantastic latest album.) ALSO! We decided to let Half Brother Rick Miller decide the "Awesome" setlist, so there's a few songs on there we haven't played in a while. AND we'll be debuting a BRAND NEW song called Egg Will Crack.
III. Still recording the newest album, albeit* slowly. So far we've pretty much finished recording The Man With The Bullhorn, What They Do, The Magic Mouth of Geometric Septagrams (or was it Pentagrams?), Away From Me, and Yes/No. We're so busy that we can only go into the recording studio about once a month. We're recording these at Dubtrain Records run by our good friend Pete. This is also where the new Half Brothers album, Half & Half & Half was recorded. It's a really relaxed and fun atmosphere. When we get bored of recording we go play smash 'em up video games in Pete's living room.
* I used to pronounce this word "Al Bay".
IV. This summer! A few shows are lined up, but we've also got a couple band weddings in the works, so no big out of town tours are being scheduled. However, we are working on a new show that hopefully we'll be doing at ACT later in the fall, as a part of their Central Heating Lab program. It's called The "Awesome" Cycle. We've got 4 weekends, and each will be different. That's about all we can say at this point...
V. Longer term stuff... There's an even BIGGER full-scale theatrical/musical piece (if you've seen Delaware or noSignal, you know what we're talking about) that's in the works for fall of '09. But that's very hush-hush.
VI. Things we really need to get working on: (a) t-shirts. Man, we had some for a while there but then we slacked off. We were making them all by hand and that takes time! (b) videos. Why we don't have any videos yet is beyond me. Actually, I know why: again, time. It takes time. Someday some weirdo filmmaker will say, "Okay boys. I've got an idea for a video for your song ____. Just meet me in the woods this Saturday at 9am and I'll take care of the rest." And we'll never be heard from again.
(Hey, speaking of merch: Anyone know anyone that would wanna sit at the merch table and sell CDs for us on Friday? You'd get in free, get free CDs and we'd even pay you, like $25 American.)
That's all I can think of. Any other band members wanna chime in?
-David
I. Still jazzed from Sasquatch. Here's Chris Walla watching us play. He doesn't look very happy in this picture. But he said he actually liked it. Hm.
II. Excited about playing the show this Friday (that's tomorrow, for those of you reading this today, and today for those of your reading this tomorrow.) At the Sunset in Ballard. It's a CD release party for The Half Brothers. Jose Bold will open! Yay! (Don't forget to listen to his fantastic latest album.) ALSO! We decided to let Half Brother Rick Miller decide the "Awesome" setlist, so there's a few songs on there we haven't played in a while. AND we'll be debuting a BRAND NEW song called Egg Will Crack.
III. Still recording the newest album, albeit* slowly. So far we've pretty much finished recording The Man With The Bullhorn, What They Do, The Magic Mouth of Geometric Septagrams (or was it Pentagrams?), Away From Me, and Yes/No. We're so busy that we can only go into the recording studio about once a month. We're recording these at Dubtrain Records run by our good friend Pete. This is also where the new Half Brothers album, Half & Half & Half was recorded. It's a really relaxed and fun atmosphere. When we get bored of recording we go play smash 'em up video games in Pete's living room.
* I used to pronounce this word "Al Bay".
IV. This summer! A few shows are lined up, but we've also got a couple band weddings in the works, so no big out of town tours are being scheduled. However, we are working on a new show that hopefully we'll be doing at ACT later in the fall, as a part of their Central Heating Lab program. It's called The "Awesome" Cycle. We've got 4 weekends, and each will be different. That's about all we can say at this point...
V. Longer term stuff... There's an even BIGGER full-scale theatrical/musical piece (if you've seen Delaware or noSignal, you know what we're talking about) that's in the works for fall of '09. But that's very hush-hush.
VI. Things we really need to get working on: (a) t-shirts. Man, we had some for a while there but then we slacked off. We were making them all by hand and that takes time! (b) videos. Why we don't have any videos yet is beyond me. Actually, I know why: again, time. It takes time. Someday some weirdo filmmaker will say, "Okay boys. I've got an idea for a video for your song ____. Just meet me in the woods this Saturday at 9am and I'll take care of the rest." And we'll never be heard from again.
(Hey, speaking of merch: Anyone know anyone that would wanna sit at the merch table and sell CDs for us on Friday? You'd get in free, get free CDs and we'd even pay you, like $25 American.)
That's all I can think of. Any other band members wanna chime in?
-David
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Rush Trivia of the Week
(Wherein we discover that "the Motor Law" is not, as was previously assumed, the Canadian hotel and restaurant tax.)
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Faves
Favorite memories from last weekend at the Gorge (in no particular order):
(1) Listening to Reggie Watts' hilarious rap called "Fuck Shit Stack".
(2) Chatting with some guy named Chris about how he enjoyed our music for ten minutes before realizing that it was Chris Walla from Death Cab.
(3) Free ice cream. Duh.
(4) Hiding under my keyboard to get out of the rain during "Shape Song".
(5) John O's way-out-west oracle The Quorble.
(6) Jen's delicious 'pookle rolls' (bread with cheese, meat, and veggies baked inside it).
(7) Yellow shirts.
(8) Fleet Foxes.
(9) Weird, dispersed rainbows on the horizon on Saturday.
(10) Every single moment spent on the main stage.
Least favorite memories:
(1) Getting a speeding ticket one hundred yards from the main entrance to the amphitheater.
(1) Listening to Reggie Watts' hilarious rap called "Fuck Shit Stack".
(2) Chatting with some guy named Chris about how he enjoyed our music for ten minutes before realizing that it was Chris Walla from Death Cab.
(3) Free ice cream. Duh.
(4) Hiding under my keyboard to get out of the rain during "Shape Song".
(5) John O's way-out-west oracle The Quorble.
(6) Jen's delicious 'pookle rolls' (bread with cheese, meat, and veggies baked inside it).
(7) Yellow shirts.
(8) Fleet Foxes.
(9) Weird, dispersed rainbows on the horizon on Saturday.
(10) Every single moment spent on the main stage.
Least favorite memories:
(1) Getting a speeding ticket one hundred yards from the main entrance to the amphitheater.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
More Sasquatch pics
That's us, dressed in yellow shirts just like the security team.
Photo courtesy of Moxie. Some more HERE thanks to Sarah.
RE: Celebrity Encounters
Okay, so on Sunday, a couple of hours after our set, I find myself in the meal tent in line behind Michael Franti. He'd just played his set, so I said:
"Hey, that was a great set. I was totally on the side of the stage bouncing up and down..."
MF turns around:"Thank you very much. Hey-- weren't you in that first band?"
Me: "Yeah, "Awesome"."
MF: "Yeah, right! You're the banjo player, right?"
Me: "Yeah."
MF: "That was some great stuff. Really interesting sound. What's your name?"
Me: "Uh, David."
MF: "Nice to meet you. I really liked that sound check song too."
Me: "Oh yeah, thanks. We have a lot of instruments to check, so it's, uh, useful to have a song that, uh..."
MF: "Where are you guys from?"
Me: "Seattle."
MF: "Cool."
Me: "Well, anyway, I'm just gonna grab some water here..." and then I cut around him to grab a bottle of water for Jen, sick with the flu, laying in the grass outside near the hospitality yurt.
-David
P.S. Do you have pictures from Sasquatch? We wanna see!
Monday, May 26, 2008
Back from Sasquatch!
The third in a series of posts with "Sasquatch!" in the title.
As you might gather from the photo below, we had a blast-squatch at Sasquatch. Though that glorious sunshine didn't last long into our set. The rain started to spit down about a third of the way through and we all secretly hoped there wouldn't be a repeat of the Sasquatch Hailstorm '06. Or, you know, the thunderstorms that were predicted for that day. As it turned out, the rain eased up by the end of our set and everyone was still smiling, both on and off the stage. Exeunt rain for the rest of the day, thankfully.
Many thanks to all our peeps who were front and center and to all the folks under ponchos and garbage bags who stuck out the precipitation to hear us play the brunch slot.
Thanks to Steve, the stage manager and the Carlson Audio crew for being the exact opposite of surly and mean. And especially for letting our sound guy Kevin shadow them so he could learn how to play a Midas P-85444SX1 v9 SuperTurbo Sound Lever Table (or whatever it's called, Kevin was really excited about it. And thanks to Kevin for making us sound great!)
Thanks to Victoria for the photos - which we will link to or post very soon.
Thanks to Moxie, Sarahalfreda, JBF, MvF and The Britt for the moral support and making us look totally popular.
Thanks to the Ice Cream Man because, duh. Free ice cream!
Thanks to the blue wristbands for the all-but-The-Cure access.
Thanks to all the folks in other bands, famous and otherwise, for being really cool and making it a welcoming and relaxed environment.
Thanks to Sasquatch for a well-run festival. Thanks to geology for The Gorge. Thanks to Steve Poole for the beautiful day.
Happy Memorial Day!
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Off to Sasquatch!
I got my flashlight, snacks, sunglasses, sunscreen, (sorry Mr. Sun!), snickerdoodles, musical instruments... I'm sure I'm forgetting something.
wheeeeeee!
Friday, May 23, 2008
From my backyard last night
Sarah and I got home from an art show opening in Bellevue last night, and a couple houses down, our neighbors were having a party in their backyard with live music. Here's some of what we heard from our backyard (accompanied by a creepy long-exposure photo that Sarah took while we were listening).
Thursday, May 22, 2008
The power of naaah nah nah na-na-na-naaah
Out of interest, I borrowed The McCartney Years from the library -- everything Paul McCartney stuffed into 3 dvds, including footage of a 2004 concert he gave at Glastonbury when he was 62 years old and had acumulated enough wealth to deck the stage with multiple pianos, high-grade teleprompters, several jets of fire, and thunderous explosions of fireworks that would make Zeus pee. But everything -- age and wealth included -- peeled away when he played "Hey, Jude." We ALL know the words, especially during the end-part.
It reminded me of when I was at Easy Street Records and "Yellow Submarine" came on. Every single patron in the store was singing, out loud or to themselves, and some were even dancing. Paul Mac and the Beatles need no extra rah-rah-ing from me, I'm just sayin' that getting the world to sing along unabashedly is an amazing feat, and I'm happy to experience such a thing in my lifetime.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
I See That and Raise You This
It's one thing to graduate from a high-minded art school, but what about blue-collar artists? (There's no answer, but I thought it was pretty interesting, specifically the last third:)
"Take away the time to do something creative, the space to do it in, and the education to even know such things are possible, and you get what we've got now. What passes for American culture."
"Take away the time to do something creative, the space to do it in, and the education to even know such things are possible, and you get what we've got now. What passes for American culture."
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Or even better....
Read Craig Lucas' fantastic commencement speech on why artists need to ignore critics and just keep doing their art. Inspiring stuff!
An excerpt:
And another piece of sage advice:
An excerpt:
The only people who should be allowed to care, really care, about your awards and raves, besides your agent, manager, accountant and, of course, audiences, are your mom ... and potential dates. If you cling to any of what is said about you -- good or bad -- you're dead. Those are the ones you see on E! stumbling in and out of limousines, showing off their pooter.
And another piece of sage advice:
You want to drink and get laid, and I want that for you, I really do.
And thank YOU most of all, Seattlest!
For finally taking the shot we've left wide open for you (and everyone else) since 2004.
From their review of the OtB NWNW show:
"... while 'Awesome' was anything but..."Succinct, swift and bitingly dismissive. Points subtracted for taking so long to grab at such low-hanging fruit, but our name has finally, finally been used against us.
It cannot be denied. We got served.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Hey Thanks!
...to all who came to see Nighttime Forest Fire at On The Boards this weekend. It was fun.
Next stop: Sasquatch!
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Friday, May 16, 2008
Man Talk
Overheard:
[Two hipsters on the sidewalk. A very long pause. Then...]
HIPSTER1: Do you listen to Rush?
HIPSTER2: Holy fuck, yes!
Happy birthday, Doctor
[Two hipsters on the sidewalk. A very long pause. Then...]
HIPSTER1: Do you listen to Rush?
HIPSTER2: Holy fuck, yes!
Happy birthday, Doctor
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Dear Sun,
Please come back soon. We really really miss you.
Thanks.
Love,
Your friends in "Awesome"
Your friends in "Awesome"
and everyone else here who is slowly being murdered by cloudy wet coldness.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Check out the King of Thailand!
I mean, what kind of country has a saxophone player as king? Imagine if ROB was the king of The U.S.A. King Rob. I mean seriously.
I think "Awesome" needs to do some kind of tribute to the King of Thailand. At Sasquatch.
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Friday, May 9, 2008
We Need a New Rehearsal Space!
Goodbye rehearsal space! It's been nice knowing you. We've rehearsed in you for -what? a year or two now? I'll always remember the dankness and the smell. And the terrible tryin-real-hard rock band practicing next door. We called them "Shadow Meat". Also the really sub-par graffiti in the bathroom. Oh well, bon voyage!
Anyway, now we're on the lookout for a new place. Sometime in the next month or two. Do you know of a place? Ideally it would be:
(a) cheap. I dunno what we're paying for a space now. But the less we spend on a practice space, the more we can spend on hookers and blow.
(b) Close to Capitol Hill! Five of us live here, so it'd be awful neat to be close by. But hey, don't sweat it, we'll drive anywhere. Greenhouse gasses you say? Don't make me leave a carbon footprint on your ass!
(c) large enough fit 7 guys and a bazillion instruments.
(d) just for us! Well, we'd be willing to share with another band of course, but it would be super swell if we didn't have to. That's probably hoping for too much though. Does your band need someone to share your practice space with?
(e) a minimum of spiders. And squid. We hate squid.
Anyone? Anyone?
Here's another picture of us in our current space. And a pair of sideburns too! (If the new space doesn't have sideburns, that's okay.) Also -- you can see the infamous Jen Zeyl in the background, so this must have been when we were rehearsing Here's What Happened.
Awwwwww...
My dentist called me this morning to say that they were actually able to do both fillings last Monday, so they don't need me to come in this morning. No more nitrous oxide for me. I was going to try listening to The Soft Bulletin. Oh well. More incentive to eat sugar I guess.
-David
Thursday, May 8, 2008
I love you, Sally
Ever since the renovation and reinvigoration of several Seattle library branches -- including the grand stoner adventure that is the Central Library -- I've been hooked on knowledge! Well, this groovy infection now spreads to Madrona this weekend: On Saturday, knowledge-seekers and free-food-seekers (we are all one) can attend the re-opening of the Madrona-Sally Goldmark branch, named after 1970s Madrona Community Council president...Irma Ringe. The blood-pumping action runs from noon to 4pm at 1134 33rd Ave.
Recent knowledge tools borrowed from the library system:
- Bill Monroe: The Father of Bluegrass
- Quaristice by Autechre - not recommended for your nitrous adventure, David
- Surfer Rosa by The Pixies
- Wind, Sand and Stars by Antoine de Saint-Exupery
- Earthlight by Andre Breton
- Live Free or Die Hard
Recent knowledge tools borrowed from the library system:
- Bill Monroe: The Father of Bluegrass
- Quaristice by Autechre - not recommended for your nitrous adventure, David
- Surfer Rosa by The Pixies
- Wind, Sand and Stars by Antoine de Saint-Exupery
- Earthlight by Andre Breton
- Live Free or Die Hard
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Music Suggestions?
I'm going back to the dentist on Friday for more nitrous oxide fun. And I get to bring my iPod and listen to whatever I want. So what should I listen to?
-David
Sasquatch! Guide
Pick up the latest issue of Seattle Sound magazine for your guide to Sasquatch! (and check out page 95)
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Happy Seis de Mayo!
Since you've no doubt got Mexican-style songs still on the brain after yesterday's festivities, let's all sing along to one of "Awesome"'s favorites:
La Cucaracha!
Translated from the original Spanish
Okay, everyone turn to page 262 of Jerry Silverman's Folk Song Encyclopedia, Vol. I.
We'll start with the first verse, all together now!
When a fellow loves a maiden/and that maiden doesn't love him,It's the same as when a bald man/finds a comb upon the highway.
Well, not a connection I would have made, per se.
But let's try the chorus!
La cucaracha, la cucaracha/doesn't want to travel on,Because she hasn't, oh no she hasn't/Marihuana for to smoke.
Wha-HAAAAAAT? Jerry Silverman, you subversive stoner devil!
Let's see what the other verses have in store.
All the maidens are of pure gold/All the married girls are silver;All the widows are of copper/And old women merely tin.
All right, line up ladies: Gold in front, silver behind them. Copper and tin, I'll totally be calling you later.
My neighbor across the highway/Used to be called Dona Clara,And if she has not expired/Likely that's her name tomorrow.
Okay, is that not actually hilarious? In like a "dad joke" kinda way?
All the girls up at Las Vegas/Are most awful tall and skinny,But they're worse for plaintive pleading/Than the souls in Purgatory.
Yeah, Vegas! wooho-!
Wait, I think there was a moral caution in that verse...
...
...
...Yeah, Vegas! Sing the part about weed again!
All the girls here in the city/Don't know how to give you kisses,While the ones from Albuquerque/Stretch their necks to avoid misses.
City women = prudes.
Albuquerque women = sluts.
Check!
One thing makes me laugh most hearty/Pancho Villa with no shirt on,Now the Carranzistas beat it/Because Villa's men are coming.
Woaahhhhaaaaa hahahaa!
Pancho Vi...! no shir...! Ha... ! [gasp!]
Then...! [pant!]
Those STUPID Carranzistas...! HA! Do you GET it?
No shirt!!
Now here come Villa's men!!!!
Ahh... I laugh most hearty...
And that's some quality sing-along time with La Cucaracha, thanks to our pal Jerry Silverman.
Thanks Jerry!
Until next time, adios Carranzistas!
Monday, May 5, 2008
Nitrous for Cinco de Mayo!
Just got back from the dentist. It's a new dentist. (My old one was very nice, but was getting old and had very shaky hands.) It turns out you can get nitrous for only $30 here! Hell yeah I'll take some nitrous with that filling! They also have a big collection of CDs so you can put on headphones and listen to music while you're high. I took a quick look at their stack and then grabbed Elton John's greatest hits. Then I tell them that I have a really low tolerance for pain, so the more nitrous the better. "Oh, in that case, I'll put it up to 10. If it's too much, just start breathing through your mouth," says the assistant. I make sure to not breathe through my mouth. Also, right after I started breathing it in, I got the idea that I should get my little moleskin notebook and take notes. Of course, I already had the dental dam thing and other various instruments in my mouth, so I had to do a lot of gesturing and miming to get the assistant to go through my coat and find the notebook. Then push play on the CD player and relax. It was so fantastic. Of course, I couldn't see what I was writing in the notebook. I tried to draw a picture of the dentist. You can see the results. I have no idea where the fish came from.
It's a strange thing. Here I am getting totally high in a perfectly legal way right in front of two total strangers. The dentist occasionally messes with me: "Can you open your mouth and we're going to swish you out here. Don't worry, we siphon this right out of an old beer bottle. Just kidding! That's a little nitrous joke, you know."
I'm going back on Friday for some more filling work. I think I might sneak in my digital audio recorder and get a sound recording of it all. Maybe I could turn it into a 12 Minutes Max piece.
Here's another page of free writing I did while in the dentist's chair:
Translation:
"Big bang. then bla bla bla and stuff... bla bla bla and then my parents are under a tarp in 1968, high out of their minds and the rain on that tarp and they're writing with pens, more in love than any pair of fucked up people can be... Black Bart the LSD man... then... me. Next thing you know I'm at the dentist with nitrous. The dentist is telling me I should have put him scuba diving in that school of fish... Jen I love you. I love so so much. Wanna see a movie?"
Down in the lobby of the building where my dentist is, they're giving away free chips and salsa and Mexican soda pops for Cinco de Mayo. Just the thing to grind into my new fillings with my numb face.
-David
Hey, What Did You Do This Weekend?
And can they all start with W?
Watched 30 Rock
Worked on wine options
Washed clothes
Watched rock explode softly
Wished I hadn't drank so much
Watched The Weather Underground
Waited a long time for strawberry pancakes
Went to Stanwood
Worked on feng shui
Walked around in the sun
Watched Carrier
Wondered when David can make that painting because we have a wall aching for it
Yes. Yes, they can. Also, I ate three hot dogs. What about you?
Watched 30 Rock
Worked on wine options
Washed clothes
Watched rock explode softly
Wished I hadn't drank so much
Watched The Weather Underground
Waited a long time for strawberry pancakes
Went to Stanwood
Worked on feng shui
Walked around in the sun
Watched Carrier
Wondered when David can make that painting because we have a wall aching for it
Yes. Yes, they can. Also, I ate three hot dogs. What about you?
Friday, May 2, 2008
The Discovery
(a piece of music)
INGREDIENTS:
2 violins
2 violinists
4 timpani
2 stools
2 shy children
1 microphone on a stand
30 woodblocks played by MIDI-controlled devices
1 french horn
1 large oxygen cylinder
1 tape recorder
1 giant castle set constructed by Rob Witmer
EXECUTION:
1.) Lights up on 2 violinists, who begin playing a canon duet that grows in complexity and dischord.
2.) 2 shy children peek from behind the curtain. They whisper to each other, continually venturing onstage then retreating backstage as 4 timpani descend from the rafters.
3.) A spotlight bleats on, exhibiting a french horn connected to a large oxygen cylinder. The audience laughs.
4.) The timpani rest silently on the stage floor. The violin duet grows menacing. Giggling from the children backstage.
5.) The audience laughs again, though nothing has happened.
6.) The children reluctantly emerge, each with 2 mallets. One crawls onto a stool placed between 2 of the timpani. The other approaches the microphone stand and spends 1 full minute adjusting the stand height. The child speaks into the microphone: "There were 3 ships. It was raining. No one knew who they were...the men rowing to the shore. It was pretty scary." The child scampers hastily to the second stool positioned behind the other 2 timpani.
7.) An awkward note blurts from the french horn, courtesy of the oxygen tank. No one laughs. The violins stop.
8.) From pure silence, the 2 children begin playing the 4 timpani very tentatively. They have no prior percussive experience. Slowly, they begin to crescendo and play more rapidly.
9.) As the timpani sounds increase, the child's voice is heard as if amplified, though no one stands at the microphone: "There were 3 ships. It was raining. No one knew who they were...the men rowing to the shore."
10.) The french horn blurts out another note. A tape recorder falls from the rafters onstage and smashes into pieces. It still manages to play its tape, though greatly distorted: the sound of audience laughter.
11.) The 2 violinists begin playing again. Suddenly, 30 woodblocks operated by MIDI-controlled devices break into an unbearable cacophony. Over the noisescape, the child's disembodied voice is heard again: "It was pretty scary."
12.) The 4 timpani begin to rise back into the rafters with the 2 children still playing. Once they are out of sight, a massive castle set crashes thunderously onto the stage. All sound stops. Dust clouds swirl. After 10 minutes, the lights begin to fade. It takes half an hour before they reach black.
INGREDIENTS:
2 violins
2 violinists
4 timpani
2 stools
2 shy children
1 microphone on a stand
30 woodblocks played by MIDI-controlled devices
1 french horn
1 large oxygen cylinder
1 tape recorder
1 giant castle set constructed by Rob Witmer
EXECUTION:
1.) Lights up on 2 violinists, who begin playing a canon duet that grows in complexity and dischord.
2.) 2 shy children peek from behind the curtain. They whisper to each other, continually venturing onstage then retreating backstage as 4 timpani descend from the rafters.
3.) A spotlight bleats on, exhibiting a french horn connected to a large oxygen cylinder. The audience laughs.
4.) The timpani rest silently on the stage floor. The violin duet grows menacing. Giggling from the children backstage.
5.) The audience laughs again, though nothing has happened.
6.) The children reluctantly emerge, each with 2 mallets. One crawls onto a stool placed between 2 of the timpani. The other approaches the microphone stand and spends 1 full minute adjusting the stand height. The child speaks into the microphone: "There were 3 ships. It was raining. No one knew who they were...the men rowing to the shore. It was pretty scary." The child scampers hastily to the second stool positioned behind the other 2 timpani.
7.) An awkward note blurts from the french horn, courtesy of the oxygen tank. No one laughs. The violins stop.
8.) From pure silence, the 2 children begin playing the 4 timpani very tentatively. They have no prior percussive experience. Slowly, they begin to crescendo and play more rapidly.
9.) As the timpani sounds increase, the child's voice is heard as if amplified, though no one stands at the microphone: "There were 3 ships. It was raining. No one knew who they were...the men rowing to the shore."
10.) The french horn blurts out another note. A tape recorder falls from the rafters onstage and smashes into pieces. It still manages to play its tape, though greatly distorted: the sound of audience laughter.
11.) The 2 violinists begin playing again. Suddenly, 30 woodblocks operated by MIDI-controlled devices break into an unbearable cacophony. Over the noisescape, the child's disembodied voice is heard again: "It was pretty scary."
12.) The 4 timpani begin to rise back into the rafters with the 2 children still playing. Once they are out of sight, a massive castle set crashes thunderously onto the stage. All sound stops. Dust clouds swirl. After 10 minutes, the lights begin to fade. It takes half an hour before they reach black.
accordion student of the week
Meet Lucy, from New York. She played the clarinet in grade school, but is now interested in playing the accordion. As you can see, my Petosa accordion was a bit large for her, so I ended up having her play the concertina. Lucy has been busy acting in a play, but she found time to come see "Awesome" last Saturday at Neumo's. Thanks for playing, Lucy!
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