Both Feet In - Eyes Closed!

Yesterday was eventful. We moved out of the Peter Jones Gallery. It's been the home for our theater company for 9 years or so. Kind of traumatic. We loaded up a van two times. Stuff, lots of stuff.

Walls, paint, musical equipment, lights, props, theater seats, speakers, cables. The stuff that makes a show. I'm very sore with lots of little cuts and bruises this morning. When I jump into something it's with "both feet in - eyes closed." Makes my life interesting. And sort of painful sometimes.

So now all this stuff is sitting in storage. Hopefully temporary. We don't have a new place yet. But we're hoping. Which is not really a plan, but it's something.

I'm of the mind that a new era starts today. Which has been a theme lately. Lots of things ending, falling by the way side. And as that great gap-toothed coach used to say (Vince Lombardi) "When the going gets tough, the tough get going." Let's go!

Mashed Potatoes!

You wonder if things are going to work out, and then they do. They work out to some unknown logic or map or maybe not. Things happen.

You sometimes think there must be some unseen hand, but then again maybe no hand is needed. What's in our noggin comes up against what's in the world. And what "works out" is the result.

It's sort of the "mashed potato" theory of existence. There's the potato. Then there's the masher of a certain reality. Result: mashed potatoes!

Machines Turning into Waterfalls

We went to the Vic Theater to see Sonic Youth last night. This was their first show of the tour and they were superb. They are arguably the finest band in the land. There's no hype with this band, it's all there on stage. This, surprisingly, (even to me), was the first time I've seen them perform live. And I think in order to appreciate them, in order to "understand" how great they are, they must be experienced live.

I've owned some of their records: EVOL, Daydream Nation, Dirty and I've wanted to, but never got around to buying some of the others. I've never been disappointed. Still, what's on vinyl and CD does not capture the full Sonic Youth experience. They make beautiful noise that must be experienced at ear-splitting volume. It's essential that their music engulfs, overwhelms, and surrounds you.

They are masters of dissonance and noise. They make strange off-kilter sounds into a sonic symphony. It's all guitar-based stuff: cheap (okay maybe not those great Fender Jazzmasters) and trashed up guitars played in alternate tunings with screwdrivers, drumsticks, violin bows, etc. Lee Ranaldo, Thurston Moore and Kim Gordon (Kim their long-time bass player plays guitar and bass on this tour) abuse their instruments with total abandon.

Their sound is wild, on the verge of chaos, massively beautiful sonic sculptures. This is the music of machines turning into waterfalls. A jet engine screaming itself into an ocean. The sound of a machine making love to itself.

Sonic Youth does something no other band does. And they been doing it for a long time. Totally inspiring. Plus Kim Gordon has to be the Koolest of the Koolest! Recommended!

Long and Short of It

I suppose there's something to be said for "longevity." Not a lot, but something. I mean, when you think: "long life", you think "OLD". But also, you think "lots of time to walk around on the planet."

At a certain age, just surviving becomes a positive thing, kind of like having wavy hair, or good digestion. Surprisingly, thoughts like "I out-lived the King of Pop," pop into your head. Weird. And then you start thinking about all the people famous and not who died at an earlier age than you. Strange.

And you know it's not really anything you have control over, it's basically pure dumb luck, possibly mixed in with a tendency to avoid high risk behaviors and "good genes." Then you think of Keith Richards and all theories go right down the freaking drain.

Wrong time, wrong place is about as close as you can get to answer. And then you think "this moment could be my last." And you don't want to scare yourself. You'd like a little more time to walk around on the planet. One step at a time!

Implausible

If you were a fiction writer and you invented a character like Michael Jackson you'd be accused of concocting a totally implausible being.

The boy, the man, the life. Totally strange and implausible.

Off the top of my head I come up with details like: child star, gazillion-selling albums, pet monkey, barometric chamber, media circus, friendship with Liz Taylor, plastic surgery, Neverland, white glove, Macaulay Culkin, Thriller, dangling baby from a balcony, marriage to Lisa Marie Presley (!), long sordid L.A. trial, more media circus, god awful plastic surgery, Billie Jean, faux military costume with epaulets, mask, nose job, Disney Character, arrested development, arrested, money and riches and fame, bankruptcy, derision, dead at 50.

I'm sure there's more. I've kind of avoided the Pop Circus Feeding Frenzy. It's just another chapter in a very odd life. Did it really all happen?!

The Zen of Dude!

One of my sidelines is walking dogs. It's actually a pretty well-paid (relatively), part-time gig. One of the dogs I walk is Dude. It seems Dude used to be Jude. And the legend goes that Jude was a "porno dog." I was told that he did work in "blue movies."

Now I'm not one to challenge the legend. No, as John Ford once said, "when the legend becomes truth, print the legend." So I believe that Dude, before he was fixed (ouch!) used to be Jude, and Jude was a canine Dirk Diggler.

This may explain Dude's air of profound power and existential sadness. There is the air of "lost paradise" about Dude. There is also a Zen-ness about Dude. He is always totally in the moment. Aware of the slightest movement or sound.

He's a big, sleek, very intimidating Doberman Pincher. He's sweet, gentle, playful and incredibly smart. His owner, who loves him dearly, calls him a "weapon of mass destruction." I do believe it's true. Did you ever see that movie "Predator?" Sort of gives you the flavor of Dude as he makes his way in the world.

My job, when I walk him, is to keep Dude away from everything and anything. He and I walk down the boulevard like the biggest, baddest Dudes in the neighborhood. I find myself totally matching my energy with Dude. I become "one with the Dude."

All of my senses go on "red alert." Anything moving is a target. Death or physical violence is implicit in every step we take. It's sort of exhilarating and kind of exhausting walking THE DUDE!

Every day, every moment is a little lesson in power and love and loss. Every moment is alive with the possibility of life and death.

"Don't you wonder sometimes 'Bout sound and vision..." - David Bowie

Yes. I do.

Visitors

Sometimes we act like we own the place.

And really we are only temporary Visitors.

It's probably good to remind ourselves of that once in a while.

And like good Visitors we should not radically re-arrange the furniture or trash the place.

There will be another Visitor coming down the line.

Street Fair

My favorite moment of the weekend had to be when the street fair was closing down Sunday night.

The sun had already scooted past the horizon line. Darkness was slowly descending. The vendors were packing up. The workers at the food stands were shoveling excess burgers and brats into big plastic bags.

The the buxom female lead singer of the alt-country band just announced "last call" from the stage and encouraged the last of the burned-out stragglers to move up towards the stage for one final dance.

And four whacked out transmediums moved front and center. They each found their spots on the pavement. Little planets in their own unique orbits. And they danced. Strange, off-kilter moves, not often seen on a dance floor. They danced with all their other-worldly energy.

They didn't notice each other. Or the other way too many cold beer victims. They danced alone. Tuned to a higher vibe.

It was sort of spooky and inspiring. This music, this very earth-bound music was lighting these folks up and they sparkled like flaming-out stars sputtering in the dark.

I stood stock still. Stone cold sober. I played the immovable post to their wild gyrations. There and not there at the same time.

It was a good show.

Partying...

Partying with the people can be a killer. Even without the distilled spirits.

Line of Obsession

So there's a line from Roxy Music, to Brian Eno, to David Bowie. I've been following that line like some kind of amateur Sherlock Holmes. Just another one of my musical obsessions. I find that my mad quests and strange obsessions help me maintain a life of fascination.

So yes, the book on Roxy led me to revisiting their first two discs, which then led me to a biography of Brian Eno (the Zelig of the rock and roll universe). Eno is an amazing character who has figured as a key instigator and collaborator in some of the greatest music ever committed to tape. For examples please check out the Eno-influenced discs from: Roxy Music, Talking Heads, Devo, David Byrne and U2.

Then there's the great three discs that Eno and David Bowie (throw in Tony Visconti too) created in Berlin, now these many years later dubbed "The Berlin Trilogy," which some regard as the best of Bowie's recorded work. Bowie is an incredibly multi-talented freak of nature who has gone through changes like a freaking chameleon: Ziggy Stardust, The Actor, The Thin White Duke, to well, just finally BOWIE.

I don't own that many Bowie discs, but I am very familiar with Young Americans, Scary Monsters, Hunky Dory, and "Heroes." All fine discs. The Berlin Trilogy is made up of Low, "Heroes" and Lodger. I recently purchased Low and have been listening obsessively. I love it. It is strange, haunting, cold, fractured, moody, intense, dark, beautiful. Filled with odd instrumental music as well as nail hard pop. Or not really pop. It really is awesome music, unlike anything else.

I'm also reading "Bowie in Berlin" at the moment. Which I think is just excellent. There's a theme here, I'm definitely stuck in some kind of time warp. It's not nostalgia that drives this obsession. I do think it's satisfying and worthwhile to dig deep in our pop cultural history. I like to plumb the depths of a subject looking for gold. It's definitely an interesting kick.

"My breath is inside you..."

Thanks to that magisterial Michael Bracewell book on Roxy Music, I have lately been delving deep into Roxy's first two albums (Roxy Music and For Your Pleasure).

And I must admit I have been greatly rewarded. Two of the best discs from the 70's. I know they were recorded a long time ago, in a land long lost, still these albums sound great - alive and relevant - to these jaded ears.

I do believe "In Every Dream Home a Heartache" has to be the finest ode to an inflatable doll ever recorded. These guys look like they dropped in from another planet. They must have looked freaky then, they look freaky now. I say "get your freak on!" It's alright.

"My breath is inside you..."

Beautiful World, Beautiful People

A good night's sleep. And the coffee is good.

Strive

"Always strive to excel, but only on the weekends." - Richard Rorty

Thanks!

Wow. Happy to report that folks are buying and streaming my new digital release, Jimmy Moliere in Paradise.

So cool. Thanks to everyone who has given it a try. You can get it on iTunes here:

Plus it can be purchased and/or streamed at places like: Rhapsody, Napster, eMusic, IMVU, Amazon, Lala, Shockhound and Amie Street.

The Camera Always Lies!

Sara set up her little video recorder on a table at the Cal's Neil Young show last Friday. It captured some of the madness - you can hear the crowd being a crowd, plus once in a while you can hear Charles our interpretive dancer sort of whoop to the music.

Here's two songs, Down by the River and Fucking Up. What I love about this video, besides being in tune, with no obvious glitches, is that the two girls are up front, because really they are the show. My brother and I lurk in the shadows. As it should be. Still, my guitar and his harmonica do the job! This was so much fun! This is a kind of circumscribed view of the proceedings, but that's how it goes.

"The camera always lies!"

Snaps

You do a show. Then the show is over. You may have video, pictures. Snapshots of a living, breathing thing. Not the same, still sometimes what's snapped is cool too. These are from Black Forest's "The Thorn and Rose." Carla (in white), Sara (with wings), jimmy jammer (with guitars).

Neil Young at Cal's!

How to beat post-show blues? Do another show. We were lucky to be invited back to Cal's for a Neil Young Tribute show last night. Friday night at Cal's is a hard rocking night. All the hard-core boozers and ecstatic good-timers were out in force.

We did a quirky batch of Neil Young songs: Needle and the Damage Done, Powderfinger, Roll Another Number, Down by the River, Fucking Up and Cowgirl in the Sand. Three voices - Sara, Carla and I, plus my acoustic guitar wired up to a little Pignose, and my brother on harmonica.

We had a nice ragged, funky edge with the two girls providing a sheen of beauty with their angel-like vocals. Wow. A very satisfying show.

Plus, Neil's songs are just so great. Those songs permeate the air and light up everything around them.

Danger Mouse Cuts Blank CD!

There's something very Zen about this story.

Plus David Lynch figures in it too.

Where's the dancing little guy?

"... but at least on the creative side it's the way it's supposed to be." - Danger Mouse

"Living is easy with eyes closed..." - J. Lennon