Tuesday, February 28, 2006

a lovely day in chicago [WLUW]

the frogs - and now you know you're black
the coctails - alderaan
the melvins and jello biafra - caped crusader

the feelies - let's go
the chinese stars - cheap city halo
gal costa - mamae, coragem (from Tropicalia: Ou Panis Et Circencis)
the hells - he's the devil !


[the all local all awesome set]

orso - milanesa two !
colossal - i'll look at you when the dying starts !
hirudin - matthew, what the fuck

inch worm - nowhere bound #!
beans - you're dead, lets disco !
nick cave & the bad seeds - cannibal's hymn

the pixies - cactus (live)
bakelite 78 - willie the chimney sweep
the firebird band - obsessive compulsive

the pedestrians - wire to wire #
tapes 'n tapes - buckle #
silkworm - penalty box !
genders - slip into the nightcrawlersclub

k-os - the love song !!!!
le tigre - don't drink poison
lsd march - rokoku no honu

the '89 cubs - oh, the things we put in our heads
tortoise and bonnie prince billy - thunder road
liz janes - wonderkiller !!

johnny cash - we'll meet again

a night on the town

or "unnecessary weekend party wrap up, pt. deux"

1:10: I love you but I must bid you ado. The wonderful people are trickling from the Glamarchist Benefit. The rum is gone.
1:15: Why is my phone not working> I always pay my bill. Can I use yours?
1:30: The Twinkie Party looks like it was a thing not to be missed. Nevertheless, it ended promptly at one. The only people I know are the only people under thirty. They are poets, all three of them. They are also the only blacks and hispanics at this cavernous place, and they were kicked out more harshly than I.
1:45: Hi Ramon, what's up? You're at a party, where at? Oh, the people are assholes? Maybe I'll see you there. I'll call you if there are better things to do.
1:46: There are better things to do.
2:00: We arrive at the Monkey Haus, or what once was the Monkey Haus. Never trust a place with bouncers that look different than the rest of the crowd.
2:01: I decide to play with them.

Bouncer: Show me your hands [the nails are bitten, they are unmarked]
Me: What's goin on in here?
Bouncer: Five bucks.
Me: [coy] What for?
Bouncer: What do you think? [the last time I paid five bucks, it was for an Anarchist legal defense fund, and also beer. I don't think that's the case here]
Me: Well. I want to know if it's worth it. [I want a sales pitch]
Bouncer: Look... [and he's looking mean] I'm not here to accomodate you.
Me: [Wondering how close I am to getting hit] What an odd thing to say. Am I going to have fun?
Bouncer: Look [he is defeated?] it's crowded and sweaty, there's good music, beautiful women, and shitty beer that 'll cost too much because you don't know anyone.
Me: Here's five.

2:05:
Alex is here. This is nearly a given.
2:07: His name isn't Marat?
2:08: This is an afterparty for some band called The Gaylords which features suckbags from lameass bands Kill Hannah, Local H, and the Smashing Pumpkins. I do not see any local celebrities I know/hate/recognize, they are probably all doing blow at the VIP party downstairs.
2:10: A cute, boyish lesbian type nods to me on the dance floor. I nod back.
2:12: Cute, boyish lesbian type is really trying to work my dick with her ass on the dance floor. Uh oh, I think.
2:13: Cute boyish lesbian type starts kissing my neck.

Me: Umm, I gotta go. I'll be right back.

2:14:
Me: So, what's the deal with drinks.
Bartender: We got beer left.
Me: Cool, I'll have one.
Bartender: [pouring already] That's three bucks.
Me: I don't have it.
Bartender: Well ya gotta give me something if you wanna drink.
Me: What's the least I can give you?
Bartender: Three dollars.
Me: Lady, I ain't never had a beer at a house party worth three dollars [although technically, this is a loft]
Bartender: [incredulous] Really?

2:17:
I walk in a small circle, Cute Boyish Lesbian Type finds me.

Me: Drinks are fuckin expensive here.
CBLT: Yeah, you wanna go fuck?
Me: Um, I can't.
CBLT: Why not?
Me: I'm trying to be monogamous. It' like, a trial thing I need to see if I can do [Why do I say this instead of something like, 'I'm in love' or 'I'm really not into you'? I think I'm trying to sound cool and noncomittal. I hate that I do that. Also, it's the same answer I give when people ask me why I'm not eating red meat this month]
CBLT: That sucks.
Me: Yeah, I guess, but not really. What's you're name?
CBLT: Mike.
Me: Nice to meet you, Mike [perhaps Cute Boyish Lesbian Type is actually Cute Girlish Gay Guy Type. It doesn't matter]

2:25:
Fight between two very tall, pretty effeminite hipster boys wih bad haircuts. It is broken up too quickly for my tastes.
2:26: Dance awkwardly.
3:10: DJ plays "Sex on Wheels (Motor City Remix)" by My Life With the Thrill Kill Kult. I dance awkwardly but with much more force.
3:15: D.J. Demchuk rolls me a cigarette. As a nonsmoker I have had very few cigarettes and the ones I've had were of the mass produced variety. This tastes plain and harsh in comparison.
3:20: So long suckers.
3:30: I am a much better tipper when my girlfriend is in the car. I'm not a bad tipper, but as a former waitress and dater of Indian men, she respects cab drivers and people who rely on tips for a living more than I do. At the same time, I am not a shitty tipper and have him drop me off a few blocks from home so I can give him that much extra money.
3:35: Nick is looking for typewriter stores in the phonebook. I like living with him.
4:00 Write blog, dick around online, go to bed.

I am happy with this evening. I am proud of myself for my restraint but I expect that I will get some shit from Sarah for letting Mike get close enough to kiss me. I have had a wonderful friendfilled week. It is somewhere around my tenth annversary of writing and for two shows this week, I broke out a dusty old book of poems spanning the many phases I've gone through. I'd like to thank Chris Basaraba, Christian Duckworth, Meshell, Sam, Deanna and Breanna for coming out to the In One Ear on Wednesday, anyone who took the time to actually look at my photos at Inventive Expression yesterday or listen to my poems at A Cold Day in the City tonight, all the people I just met, anyone who reads my blog, and especially Sarah for dragging her ass out to nearly every performance I have. I know that a lot of what I do isn't particularly most of your cup(s) of tea, but I spend a lot of time working on it and I feel really good about myself when you give it a chance. Namaste.

post script - in the initial typing of this blog, I wrote 'monogamous' as 'monotonous'...hello, Doctor Freud!

Friday, February 24, 2006

scratches and pops [wzrd]

klaus nomi - nomi song
second step - oppurtunity (from Hit and Run: New york Beat) !
sturm group - fetish
la muerte - ecoute cette priere/make it easy

poi dog pondering -wood guitar
snatches of pink - midway
cro-mags - then and now
baaba maal & mansour seck - muudo hormo

borghesia - she is not alone (sonic youth cover?) !
sturm group - fetish
spanking bozo - tell you something (from Maniacs from the Motor City)

o.v. wright - to you i shall cling (from Deep in the Soul of Texas)
the citations - that's what it is (from Deep in the Soul of Texas)
zaar - ce n'est pas triste # !
morcheeba - over and over

greater than one - i don't believe in god
occasional detroit - tse tse fly
tragic mulatto - hardcore bigot scum get stabbed i say !

the wedding present- Vasa Vasyl'ok !
big audio dynamite - start !
les thugs - dead dreams
big trouble house - getting near the end

red hot chili peppers - magic johnson
frontline assembly - prayer
kinothek percussion ensemble - a rumble (on the track)

crazyhead - jack the scissorman
twang bang - ten feet tall

agnostic front - liberty & justice
suicide - wild in blue
typewriter - let the bomb go
kmfdm - rip the system

am syndicate - kicking a sailor in the teeth #!
lao kouyate - ppt les amis

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

all while talkin to some asshole on coke [WLUW]

lard - 70s rock must die
i need sleep - natural disasters
the creeps - down at the nightclub

the ranchgirls & the ragtime wranglers - if you don't love me somebody else will (Wanda Jackson cover from Hard Headed Woman)
cat power - love & communication #
brian wilson - mrs. o'leary's cow
ariel pink's haunted grafitti - hardcore pops are fun

onyx - slam
the 88 - hide another mistake
the fall - bo demmick

stiff little fingers - no more of that
gabby la la - be careful what you wish for
dosh - rock it to the next episode
pharcyde - passin me by

the ramones - pinhead
vashti bunyan - here before !
ween - israel !

swearing at motorists - northern line #
bakelite 78 - dark eyes !
the faint - hypnotised (from Lagniappe: SaddleCreek Benefit for Hurricane Katrina)#

brad peterson - nine #
orange juice - falling and laughing
talib kweli - get by

blondie - atomic
farm crew - do it all again (from The Chicago Drop Vol. 1)

small change - atmofear #
kmfdm - you're no good [technical difficulties...oops]
the photo atlas - the walls have eyes #

sham 69 - hey little rich boy
ghislair poirier - refuse to lose
kadaa & patton - pilie mes larmes !

already been chewed

my favorite TV show, based on what I watch the most regularly, would have to be World News Now. It's a lightweight news magazine that airs on ABC from like 1:55 to 4:00 in the morning, in between the rerun of the local nightly news and the similarly titled World News This Morning. It runs for a little less than an hour and repeats two-and-a-half times. The only thing I can really say in its favor is that wacky banter and entertainment news makes up less than ten per cent of each broadcast and that the newscasters or veejays or whatever the fuck you're supposed to call them don't give a fuck if I know who tthey are. For all I know they switch the smiling guy and ethnic girl every week and send the old ones back to the mailroom. Whoever they're using, they're familiar, can easily be placed in the background, and are far less unpleasant than the locals.

They just had some music industry dick with a sandblasted face and a Pat Riley haircut talking about the new acts to look for.

I hate when magazines like Rolling Stone and Spin do shit like this and I hate when TV stations do it. It's really easy to predict which 'underground' acts are going to make it when you're already privvy to who the labels have decided they're going to pour money into, and when you only need one or two of the artists to actually make it to pat yourself on the back a year later.

So they've got this man, who looks a little like a lizard who's got it in with the Brooks Brothers and he's talking about Matisyahu (who's already got songs on mainstream radio) and he says

It's all about the forelocks, not the dreadlocks with this guy

and for some reason that pisses me off. I think because it's a catchphrase, a catchphrase that no one would actually use. Not only that, but it's a catchphrase that was just a little too clever for this reptile. Some executive ordered it up and told him to say it. Obviously.

There's also something a little sinister about it, like finally, reggae without all those Jamaicans!

I'm fine with Matisyahu being a novelty act; he does some good shit and if novelty is the only way people are gonna hear it, that's fine. My sister was playing the cd for my Dad today. He hates reggae but he loves giving Jewish musicians a chance (as opposed to, you know, liking reggae while not being that fond of black people). He couldn't jive with his fellow Tribesman though, pondering for a second and saying, "you know, if Bob Marley had a couple of rockandroll Latinos, maybe a guitarist and a timbale player from Santana's band, I probably could've dug his music."

I was reading one of the Rolling Stone's my dad keeps around the can. Another music industry dick was talking about Matisyahu:

and Matisyahu's got some real reggae credibility, we're not talking about Snow, here!

That's another thing that sounds clever and in-the-know when some asshole tells some other asshole about it, but anybody who listened to Snow's album (the admittedly terribly-titled "12 Inches of Snow"), they would see that Snow wasn't just faking it. Snow came off as Vanilla Ice ..2, but he wasn't. His music hasn't aged well but he was serious about his reggae, working with cats like Ninjaman and Junior Reid. The reason he was dismissed so quickly is that half his album was much reggaer than his single "Informer" and half his album was poppier (think K7 and the Swing Kids).

Nevertheless, here are things I like about Matisyahu, that have nothing to do with music:

1. He's got a beard that no one else but Will Oldham or ZZ Top would leave the house with.
2. Because of his extreme, adopted orthodoxy, he has taken concessions that guarantee a poorer performance, i.e. refusing to do shows on Friday nights, not stagediving out of fear that he might come in contact with a woman he's unrelated to, not signing women's autographs for the same reason.
3. He's obviously not in anybody's pocket
4. His upcoming album with Bill Laswell will either develop his guitar heavy rasta sound or deepen the dub elements (though really, I think he should be working with someone like Manu Chao who could get some interesting shit out of his vocals)
5. Any Jewish-identified rap that can be taken seriously as real hiphop is a step up from Hip Hop Hoodios, Blood of Abraham, Remedy and the goofball JewBu dreck the Beastie Boys put out on 11/12ths of their last few albums.

still, he's not the best

I've been on a serious white-guilt, racial aggression trip lately, but it seems kinda suspect to me that Matisyahu is becoming a staple with the khakis-and-sandals crowds at dorms everywhere (see: Dave Mathews, Jack Johnson, and John Mayer, who isn't entirely terrible). For years, the familiar sounds of Bob Marley's Legend album have plagued quads and residence halls across the country. It's become nothing less than cliche but until now, no reggae crooners have come along to carry the torch.

No classics like Toots & the Maytals, the Wailers, Desmond Dekkers, Lee Perrys, or Peter Toshes. No 2-tones or third wavers like the Specials or the Skatalites. No crooners like Barrington Levy or Max Romeo. No scatmasters like Eek-A-Mouse or dubmasters like Lee "Scratch" Perry and Sly & Robbie.. No rap hybrids like Beenie Man, Just I.C.E. or Mad Lion. No dirty motherfuckers like Yellowman. No Pato Bantons or Mad Professors or Buju Bantons, most-if-not-all of them, better than Matisyahu and at least as good as Legend.

I want to decry the racial element, the inherent country clubbiness of the Greek System, but I've been doing that a lot these days and I don't want to be a one-trick pony. It's not most frat boys fault that they like reggae but have never heard it. Perhaps, it is just that none of these artists were lucky enough to have a record exec box them into a neat little phrase.

But please, please, don't call that forelocks

Sunday, February 19, 2006

International Noise Fest

Cost: Free
Things I missed to be there: Nothing, absolutely nothing, at lease not in Florida.

The biker looked to be somewhere in his forties or fifties. His arms were full of tattoos and none of them looked new. Picking his gums with a curved blade, he turned to looked at me. "This shit ain't music...this is noise pollution." I shrugged. "I work on engines all day. Motorcycles. HARLEYS. They ain't half as loud and sound twice as pretty.

My Mom is one out of a litter of seven. When her folks moved from New Jersey to Florida, all but two of their kids followed. Every year since I was born I've taken at least one trip a year to South Florida. Boynton Beach. Boca Raton. Ft. Lauderdale. There's never really anything to do there, and whenever I find something, I end up getting myself in trouble. In twenty-three years I've never seen a good show in the Panhandle. It finally happened today.

I'd like to give a shout out to the nation of Wizards who made it happen. I was talking to Skateboard Dan Demchuk, who happened to be from Florida, and was asking me what I was doing over the weekend. When I told him I'd be in Florida, he said, "That's awesome! [WZRD dj] Rotten Milk is playing a show in Miami this weekend."

The show was The International Noise Conference, organized by To Live and Shave in L.A.'s Rat Bastard. Nobody could tell whether or not the name was a joke, or just ambitious, as there weren't any performers from outside the country. It took place in this fantastic dive bar Churchill's in the middle of Little Haiti. Churchill's was everything that places like Exit could be but aren't. It wasn't trying so hard to look all punk as fuck. It was just fun (after lookingitt their piece of shit website, I was more than hapilly surprised. It claims to be an authentic English pub. I'm willing to believe it, because outside of the red, black, and white facade and the burnt out double-decker buses in the parking lot, there wasn't a damn thing in the place that was English, and I kinda doubt that a traditional(e) English Pub would be as Anglocentric as the ones you'll see in Lincoln Park.

The front room was bright, too bright for a bar. It looked like it had once been a diner and had been shut down and incorporated into the rest of the bar, which was dark and wonderful. There was a bartender who was beautiful. An Amazonian I couldn't look at directly for fear that she was reading all the disgusting thoughts in me. She had a tattoo hat started in her cleavage and went...somewhere. From what I could see, it was just two curved lines that formed a mock shadow, making her tits look even more pronounced. There were two well-stocked jukeboxes in the front, and one out back but nobody played anything but the Clash. Fenced in, behind the bar, was another bar. Every surface was tagged with big murals. Most of them were new, and done in a spray-can anime noir style, one was an old, hand-painted New Orleans piece full of joyous, dancing skeletons.

I got there at around ten and the show was already half-over, which is fine by me cause ten-plus noise acts in a row is more than I could tolerate on even the best days. As far as I can tell, this was what I saw:

2:00 - Dynasty (Providence RI)
1:45 - Otto Von Schirach
1:15 - Can't (Boston)
1:00 - Taiwan Deth (Nashville TN)
12:45 -Temple of the Bon Matin
12:30 - Projexorcism (Asheville, NC)
12:15 - Heart2Heart (Providence RI)
12:00 - Leslie Keffer (Athens OH)
11:45 - Mouth Pet (Nashville TN)
11:30 - Brian Miller & Kevin Shields (Los Angeles)
11:15 - Donna Parker (Boston)
11:00 - Unicorn Hard On (Providence RI)
10:45 - Social Junk (Baltimore)
10:30 - Newton (Philadelphia)

The show was everything you could expect from a good noise show held at an actual venue with a license to worry about. Wires snaking in and out of mysterious directions, battling reels of 8mm found footage, homemade clothes and percussion, on-purpose ugly people with terrible haircuts and body odor*, animal costumes, headaches, etc.

From what I can tell, I got there just as Valerie Allen was finishing up some droney vocal stuff and Newton was starting. Newton's set consisted of a guy in a bee costume beatboxing what sounded like the soundack to a Darren Aronofsky film about strangling puppies.

The highlights of the night (for me) were Social Junk and Temple of the Bon Matin. They were both fairly jazzy noise bands. Social Junk brought as big a ruckus as I've ever seen done with an amped clarinet. Temple of the Bon Matin reminded me a lot of Lozenge, percussion-wise. They had a number of huge pieces welded together that they played wiyh intense, pounding synchronicity. I think I veer towards more traditional bands at these kinds of shows. It seems to me that, unless you're a genius or a savant, you can'd do anything with electronics that I would classify as anything other than cool. There's just so much more that a number of musicians working together can do.

Some other notable acts were Brian Miller and Kevin Shields. Brian wrapped tape from person to person around pipes, merch tables and light fixtures before starting a ferocious pit and attempting to destroy everything on the wobbly table his kit sat on. Their songs ended whenever the power strip got knocked loose and started as soon as they could be plugged back in. Donna Parker sang over a repetitive beat, something that bordered on trip hop. She did some beautiful stuff with her voice but I couldn't understand what the shit she was saying. Her act was this shy/coy sultry geek spazz thing. It's probably a good thing I couldn't hear the lyrics. It's cynical to say, but I can't remember the last time I heard a good lyric in concert.

There was one other thing. Shuttle Lounge. Shuttle Lounge was the band playing the outdoor patio. I needed them. In their first set they were for funny looking guys, think a guy who looks like a skinny Jeff Lebowski, a guy who looked like Don Ho dressed up as Elvis for Halloween, a guy who would've been a shoe in for the Fat Boys if they wanted a Mexican, and a quiet bass pleyer who looked like Deepak Chopra's younger brother. They played country and rockandroll. The mexican guy came on to every girl who walked in front of him and flashed the "Have A Nice Day" tattoo on his ass for anybody that put a dollar in his pocket. They played a lot of funny songs and a lot of classics. I lost my shit when they played a straightforward country version of the Outkast song "Caroline" from the Love Below (later they played "Hey Ya" though, and it sounded a bit too Weird Al for my tastes. I would've left a few hours earlier if it wasn't for them. I needed the melody and the humor to break up the monotony of noise noise noise. What can I say? I'm weak. At least now there's one place I can go to the next time I'm in Florida,

Tuesday, February 14, 2006

my ears are burning with VD, i refuse to play love songs [WLUW]

tom waits - goin out west
tarantella - southern cross
lemon jelly - in the bath

nullsleep - level 2 (from VGM Mixtape # 8)
the monks - shut up
ira! - la fora pode ate morrer

paul kelly - the upset (from Eccentric Soul: The Deep City Label)
mf doom - vomitspit
they shoot horses don't they - seeds

chrome - zombie warfare
my barbarian - ryan (police psychic)
alice cooper - below your means

tuung - no man can find the war (from Dream Brother:The Songs of Tim + Jeff Buckley) #!
piglet - plastic stars, cotton highways #
frigg - meltaus

beige - the rhythm! the message? (from Check the Water: Leaf Compilation 1995 - 2005)
klaus nomi - lightning strikes
erwan band - khon muangkhan (from Thai Beat A Go-Go Vol. 3)

waterdown - recruit
the ex - apathy disease

jason forrest - stepping off !
stone jack jones - smile #!
the gourds - shake the chandelier #

bill janovitz and crown victoria - mary kay

the elected - did me good #!

Wednesday, February 08, 2006

2/3/06 [WZRD]

dove rock - designer gasmasks (from The World Can't Wait: Chicago)
don drummond + drumbago - stampede ( from Calling All Boys And Girls)
skatalites - independent anniversary ska ( from Calling All Boys And Girls)
dj /rupture w wayne lonesome - dem nuh know me

fab two - virgin boy
kingdom scum - articulate your screams !
dave bartholemew - get down blues

leaf - step aside
sir mix a lot - aunt thomasina
the mysterians - lullaby of the leaves

shockabilly heaven - when you dream about bleeding !
ghost - coming home
the fall - states, slags, etc.

dufus - wutcolors
aids wolf - the hat collector #
bushido - high rise *

clarence "gatemouth" brown - jumpin the blues
wanda sa - medicatao
the bombay ducks - carnival courtesy of a daughter

beton combo - ???
chrome - my time to live
hawkwind - assassin (remix by zion train)
east west blast test - unfantastic voyage #
yoko ono - mrs. lennon

varttina - synti (the sin) #
material - ghost light/dread recall
ten-ton - dick joke (revised)

ravi shankar - raga simhendra madhyamam

basic food group - perdurabo