Arcade Fire-Greek, 10/3

As stated in earlier posts, Arcade Fire has a big significant bookmark in my life. Funeral came along when I struggled with my inner turmoil of self boredom, adulthood responsibilities, the society placed stigmas of where we should be at a certain age of life, and just an overall restless leg syndrome of long time placement in an area I desperately wanted to flee. (Side note: wowza-school is making me exam myself too much-say thankee). At any rate, “Wake Up” was a beacon of salvation-no, scratch that-it was a song in the soundtrack to that moment of life where the main character, me, makes the decision to do something about her situation; “fucking do something different. Loved ones will be there, even if they don’t understand, life will go on; your proverbial balls won’t recede; and further more, you will live.”

That little mental soul vomit aside…I first saw Arcade Fire in Seattle after the release of Neon Bible. They are easily one of my top ranked bands to see before you die. It was like being reunited with a mentor or hero after they helped you through a storm. This time I saw them at the Greek in Berkeley with Calexico as their opener. If you haven’t seen Calexico, I highly recommend it. They’ve got some smooth Latin inspired sounds that translate fantastically to the stage. As for AF, this band-all 32 of them- is a cracked out whore faced with the prospect of a ball playpen, filled with penises wrapped in singles.** Translation: so much energy that makes them run amok on a stage with props, instruments, and interpret dance. The heroin cracked out drummer boy that could? Yeah, he’s hypnotic, easily the most energetic of the whole band and you cannot help but let your eyes be a laser beam of intense Jeffery Dalmer watchfulness in the glow of his unicorn glitter farting glory. Oh yes, I just said ALL OF THAT! Recognize.

Having seen them before, I knew they were going to do an encore and I knew that encore would include “Wake Up” as its closer. So when they broke out with that song you could hear the whole audience singing along to the chorus...I literally had chills. Can you imagine 8,000 people fully moved by this song, singing along, and connecting? It was some made for TV movie shit; I tell you what.

They’re good, and they make great music that is easy to love…but I found myself in periods of lulls because I wanted the first album, the one that was my rock, my soundtrack and my soul mover. This show also felt a bit lacking in luster…Now, don’t get me wrong, this was one fantastic fucking show and I think everyone should experience these guys. And who knows, maybe my slight sliver of a ho-hum attitude was developed from the possible contact high I may have developed from the fat couple one row down from me, smoking some fruity smelling weed, the ENTIRE concert. Seriously, I would've been immobile after that much weed.

(Kimmay is walking the line)
**side note, this entry may or may not, have been written after some booze intake.

Black Keys-Fox Theater 9/30/10

photo by Tom Tomkinson Photography

ahhh fuck @#$%^AHSJ BLARG^$#BLOOP%&*!#FU <---yep, that pretty much sums up my brain after I saw Black Keys at the Fox Theater; mush. Finally after all the times of missed connections in seeing this band, I had my face metaphorically rocked off.

I had another alternate opening line to the one above but felt it too vulgar, but apparently not too vulgar to write it anyway: “If Patrick’s intense drumming faces reflect his passion for music; can you imagine the faces while he’s just in the moment of passion?”...my curiosity is peaked. And when it came down to it, the thought of someone in the throws of passions might be a bit of a turn off, depending on your kinks, of course.

On to the band portion of our episode…Although I’m 137% positive there are far greater fans than me who know every word to every song, the street addresses of Dan and Patrick's childhood homes or at what point they had their first kiss, I am still a fan on some level. And when they struck their first note, a line from Almost Famous popped into my head “have you ever loved a band so much, it hurt?”. I reckon there were a lot of those said fans at this show. For me however, my body just buzzed from the first cord struck until I tried to sleep later that night. You want success for a band you love but on the flip side, you want them to remain a small little secret kept from the world. But nevertheless, you’re happy for them when they do hit it big.

I may have known of the Keys subconsciously beforehand but my true acquaintance with them began with a lovingly crafted mix CD. Nestled amongst the songs of intended affection, was the Keys’, “You’re the One”. It was a great introduction and we were well met. So for that, thank you Sam.

I am digging the new album Brothers but must admit, my fondness hearkens to the older more raw edged sounding albums with just the duo. I suppose it’s because of growing up listening to my father playing with his buddies. It was basic rock and blues with no frills, just the love of jamming and how that jamming makes you feel good. Not to mention growing up in the olden times where we had to read by candle light, as power was not invented yet(shit, was Edison even born?), it would stand to reason that I was raised on older rock and or roll, ya dig.

You could definitely tell the Keys picked up a bigger following with this release. I thought they mixed this show up well between the old and new songs. Starting with just the duo, then additional musicians for the more produced new album, back down to the duo again and so forth. There would be a lull with the crowd, except from older fans, until the new songs were played and then everyone just erupted. I heard a lot of: I don’t like the old stuff-blah blah blah; it sounds shitty-blah blah blah. The new stuff is just better produced and more poppy-blah blah blah. You could definitely tell where my alliance laid, by evidence of my exuberant shimmying to the older unrefined stuff that the crowd was bitching about. If my ears were a vagina, I would have been drenched 20 times over in wetness, from more than just spilt booze, from the love making they did to my ears.

Don’t ask me the set list, I don’t remember and I did not take notes. I only took one shitty cell phone shot of the band, as I was too engrossed to be bothered

(token shitty cell shot)

The black keys make some sexy music, like, seriously fucking sexy.

You're the one

"When I was 13
My mom said
"Son, you're the
one I adore"

Now I'm old and wise
When I see your eyes
You're the one I adore

Ohhh, ohhh, ohhh, ohhh

Will you be true?
Till life is up
Be the one I adore
Oh
You're the one I adore

Ohhh, ohhh"

Seattle!!

Sometimes it doesn’t matter what kind of shit life throws at you or the funk that may grasp your heart, when a good song comes, it can lift the spirits causing you to just turn your face to the sunny sky and smile. If even for a temporary amnesiac fix, embrace it, good songs are good for the soul

Here’s just a few on my current iPod mix that make me feel better when I’m riding my two wheel whip:
The Only Living Boy in New York - Simon and Garfunkel
Two Weeks - Grizzly Bears
Wake Up - Arcade Fire
Mansford Roof -Vampire Weekend
Into the Open -Heartless Bastards
Home - LCD Soundsystem
We Own the Sky-M83
Ghostwriter-RJD2
Elephant Gun-Beirut
Absinthe at the Fly Honey Warehouse-Minus the Bear

There's many more...but these are just off the top of my head

Also, recently drove to Seattle to start bringing my things from storage to my new home and get a little ink work done. So happy to have normalcy again...even if I still have strong wanderlust

James + Evander 5/25

(dude, you know these guys are cool, even Chewy did his hair for their gig)

Nothing says fun like an electronic musical event that Star Wars threw up on. Never mind that the paraphernalia is owned by two young 20something fans that were not yet the pre-sperm sparkle in their father’s eye when these movies came out. But love sees no age, as I find myself saying over and over again when I’m lovingly referred to as Chester by my friend. That tidbit is neither here nor there though. I was introduced to the computer generated mix-masturbater duo James + Evander about a month ago with their "This isn't the beginning of anything" release. It was love at first note to my lobes. Electronic, is probably not what they would call themselves(as they play instruments on their albums as well) and I’m no expert on musical labels, but that’s the word I’m using. Their songs have nary a lyric, party remixes excluded, with maybe a few vocal note accents to a song or two here and there(StaplerStaplerStapler.com for example)

Now, when I think DJ, I think dusty vinyl coupled with names like Shadow and Cut Chemist (which, thoroughly impressed me and created a new found respect for record slingers). When I see a DJ coupled with a MAC notebook, I instantly think button pusher, as in Homer J Simpson, as in pushing the buttons on the reactor so Springfield doesn’t blow up in a mushroom cloud, as in LOST every 108 minutes. Now, don’t get me wrong, do you see my ass composing any sort of musical finery of any sort? Fuck no. So I’m not saying these modern day laptop Mozart’s are any less creative or talented... even if said DJ does strategically push a button while he strategically fixes his hair and then strategically messes it up again(stratego style).

(push the button, you must)

At any rate, I got a chance to check out a J+E show last night. But unfortunately to the disappointment of their fans, the show was cut short, as it was in an art gallery that had limited hours and there were two openers that, in my opinion, played far too long. The openers were ok, the second, being rather repetitive with his beats, thus leaving me highly antsy for his set to end and to hunt down my next beer to get a break. I lacked hope for excitement or entertainment from the main duo by the time they started but a metaphoric slap to my face for thinking such preposterous asshole ideas is what I got. The openers really did pale in comparison to the quality that this dynamic duo produces, even with a set list cut tragically short.

(Duo)

So whether its computer or dusty vinyl, music is the end result and fuck all if these kids don’t make me subsequently happy, abolishing any dour mood when I listen to the stuff they produce. They don’t carry themselves with the boring tempo and the annoyance of over repetition but rather mix with complexity and fun.“This isn’t the beginning” has song after song of up swinging beats that just lift the spirits; building your momentum the way some of the songs build towards an ending before breaking down again. I am eager for more to feed my fix and am looking forward to what they come up with next

How...

Let it die and get out of my mind
We don't see eye to eye
Or hear ear to ear

Don't you wish that we could forget that kiss
And see this for what it is
That we're not in love

The saddest part of a broken heart
Isn't the ending so much as the start

It was hard to tell just how I felt
To not recognize myself
I started to fade away

And after all it won't take long to fall in love
Now I know what I don't want
I learned that with you

The saddest part of a broken heart
Isn't the ending so much as the start
The tragedy starts from the very first spark
Losing your mind for the sake of your heart
The saddest part of a broken heart
Isn't the ending so much as the start

Foul tip

Life throws us curve balls...be it family strife, struggling for college funds or broken hearts. I'm stretching towards the end of my nomadic life; a home plate if you will; a game plan for life and hopefully one day, my heart.

The metal steed that is my symbol of freedom, will be going on the market next week; gasp! I know. But I need the cash as a cushion to find a job with a roof over my head. Not to mention, I hate driving in the city. And mostly, well, I'm just plan tired of not having a home. Sure I have a place to rest my weary bones now but it's not MY home. So Cal and Seattle couldn't hold me, so now what? The plan is still the Bay...

Soon, so very very soon...I can almost feel the canvas of my home plate

Dan Auerbach's 'Goin' Home' came on tonight. The second verse seems fitting for a recent trip to the Pac NW. It's a beautifully delicate song and it made me tear a bit:

"I’ve spent too long away from home
Did all the things I could have done
Gone are the days of endless thrills
I know I’m not the only one

So long, I’m goin’, goin’ home…

I saw the streets all ripe with jewels
Balconies and the laundry lines
They tried to make me welcome there
But their streets did not feel like mine

So long, I’m goin’, goin’ home…

I want the sun to hit my face
Through oak trees in the open lot
Forget about the things you want
Be thankful for what all you got

So long, I’m goin’, goin’ home…"


(I'm trying to be thankful for what I got and weather the storm of the things I cannot control)

Sandstorm Slut

My loving man Sam plays in a fantastically talented band, of which I do not fully know the name, as the little punk eluded to maybe The Sons but who knows(probably thinks "Well if I tell you, there would be no mystique left about me and what fun would that be? Now be a good woman and fetch me a whiskey and PBR"). UPDATE: Sleepy Suns. Check them out, amazing

I'm super excited about what they're doing and I know I'm not the only one. So I'm going to write about one of their songs in particular: Sandstorm Woman. This is an intensely sexy song that has a feel of classic rock with a mixture of moody strong guitars and a dash of some blues upbringing. From the early unraveling of the song with the devilish woman's laugh taunting you, you know you're in for a ride. I can't help but think of Zeppelin's "Since I've been loving you" which also exudes raw bluesy emotion and strong guitars; basically, shit you can get naked and dirty to.

Permit me a rant to get my point of sexuality across...

Men, imagine an incredibly sexy woman of your desires giving you a private dance...intimate. She'd be dancing to this song; slowly slinking towards you, guided by the slow drum beats. She drops to her knees in front of you, only to climb up your legs, using her body against yours; conducting electricity through the tension. She keeps eye contact all the while she ascends. You can feel her heat as see makes your dream a reality...

Back to the song...

Most of the song has a slow gyrating rhythm, begging you to move your hips hypnotically, swaying from side to side, eyes closed as singers Rachel and Bret croon and wail pure sex into your Temporal Cortex...at the 5:30 mark of the song, the tempo picks up into a faster kick you out of you daze, rock. He screams and you can envision her bent over howling into the microphone while gripping it by the throat. By that point of the song, if you're not completely out of your mind aroused, you're either 80, out of Viagra or dead. At the 7:11 mark, the drums become primal and then the song just escalates further into an all out fuck you jam session.

Whatever fantasy this song aids you for tickle time; be it a feverish make-out session or sex, it has an undeniable raw feeling of existence and the invisible push to make you move

Please check out their live performance video here:

http://cliquebang.blogspot.com/2010/01/sandstorm-slut-sam-says.html

They have posted a lot of live performances on their blog; it's the top link from my page, Cliquebang. Definitely go and check them out, spread the word.

A gloomy rainy day song

Good trippy and pretty song with beautiful accoustic guitar melodies, for grey skies and sad hearts. Goldfrapp's "Montser Love"

"I never thought I would return
To be consumed by you again
Think you're cured, you'd see it come
The folly of a monster love like you

Grey is good, the light is good
We went down to Hollywood
You only get one chance in Tinsel Town
I save the part, the sweetest part shook for you

Everything comes around
Bringing us back again
Here is where we start
And where we end

Never thought I would return
To be consumed by you again
But I know a paper moon
The folly of a monster love like you

The pavement smell just after rain
The sun leaps out, it's clear again
I told you how I felt the earth could move
The folly of a monster love like you

Everything comes around
Bringing us back again
Here is where we start
And where we end

Everything comes around
Bringing us back again
Here is where we start
And where we end

Everything comes around
Bringing us back again
Here is where we start
And where we end

Everything comes around
Bringing us back again
Here is where we start
And where we end

Everything comes around"



- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Never Be Like Yesterday

When I paint, I typically listen to melancholy moody borderline slit your wrist, music. Not because I want to fillet my dainty woman wrist but because I paint women of strong emotion. Vive Voce's "Never Be Like Yesterday", has beautiful building piano work that invokes an almost serene image...until you get to the lyrics, you don't realize how sad this song is and how you can feel the writer's frustrations over fighting with a love one. We've all been there...

This song came on this morning and tugged at me a bit. It, as well as the whole album, is highly suggested:

"So here comes the morning sun,

and I can't believe that we're not done.

My eyes are swollen - face is numb...

...am I still talking?

But it's never gonna be like yesterday

Cause we can't fight that way

Guess I'll be the bigger man

and drive my point till it's dead

Make you see where it went wrong

So we can stay up all night long

But it's never gonna be like yesterday

Cause we can't fight that way

So when it comes to push and shove

the knives come out before the gloves

and all the hits below the belt

still hurt long after they're dealt

But it's never gonna be like yesterday

Cause we can't fight that way"

Into the great big open...

Nomad-an individual who roams about

in my 31 plus years on this earth, I can say, I'm not quite sure where my wanderlust completely comes from...my balls and utter asshole persona comes from my mother and father. I've lived, at least in my head, a fulfilling life before the point I even reached 30. Two houses owned, a husband by 20, divorced by 26, a zealous love for pills at 18, first drunk at 14 and bringing food home to help feed the family before 18. People have lived far worst and people have lived far less; none of which is unimportant, its all on how you learn the lessons...

I wander. At some point around 26-27, I had this fantastically lame brained idea that buying an RV and exploring my home country working odd jobs for fuel and food cash, would be a fabulous idea. Being a nomad sounded so romantic and exciting. Bring it on back to the now; me, bored shit less working a desk job at head cellular company, writing over 600 reviews on Yelp.com and starting up to 3 blogs, all to sustain the mind numbing self consuming brain deteriorating rot that had become my life, all from my desk at $20 per hour rate. the point of all this babble? I realized my life is dull and unsatisfying. I enroll in an art school i drooled over in high school, shit hits the fan with the family and i pack up and leave Seattle for the familiar confines of California. More shit hits the fan in useless boring details that don't really matter, suffice to say...I am now...a nomad.

Long story short, I must live the simple life of poverty and do school online until I can get full funding. I am sleeping on couches and floors. Don't cry for me Argentina...er Riverside. It was rough at first but after a few months, you get in a groove. I am embracing this life of nomad, no home, go where I please(literally randomly getting off an exit to drive through a random cute town), see what I want but all for a price...and there is no longer a hurry for me to be in one place anymore.

Life from your trusty modern day steed, the car, is one of long in depth conversations with your soul. You notice more...fresh cut fields through Oregon; the way life coats the green in Washington, a wet organic smell you just want to soak through your very pores; having the ocean's scent carried through a breeze and hitting your senses; randomness on every corner of your ocular view. I've had friends say I'm lucky to have the freedom to up and go, as well as the balls to leave everything behind. This life in a car becomes a rolling motion picture on all four corners of your metal steed. 80+mph becomes the norm, 55-60+mph becomes a crawl. You for tell the best spots for cops. You learn that baby wipes and an iPod are your best friends and you wish that you had a better camera with an amazing lens to capture it all on paper and not just your mind's eye.

Heartless Bastards "Into the Open" has become my nomad theme song:

I just want to go

But I didn't wanna let go

I just want to go

But I didn't wanna let go

And I find myself

In a fleeting moment

Traveling far and wide

To the great big open

Things are coming into focus

Things are coming into focus

I've got wind in my face

And it's getting me on

I've got wind in my face

And it's getting me on

On

All of this time I was searching

Searching for my home

And I discovered

Home is where I am

And I find myself

Here in the meadow

Of a great divide

And in the moment

Things are coming into focus

Things are coming into focus

I've got wind in my face

And it's getting me on

I've got wind in my face

And it's getting me on

On

All of this time I was searching

Searching for my home

And I discovered

Home is where I am

North American Scum

If you’re in need of some upbeat music you can shake your booty to, while doing the tediously horrendous task of packing your living quarters…

May I suggest?
LCD Soundsystem
Sound of Silver


I have written about this group before, the brain child of James Murphy…I believe it was one of my first posts, in fact. Any who…highly recommended you see them live, all instruments played and a wee bonnie lass on the turn tables. WORD

I would also like to give a big “WHAT UP” shout out to the FREE Seattle periodical “The Stranger”. They are being highly supportive in my move by supplying me with their loving arms of FREE paper to wrap my stuff in.

So here’s to you, tranny section: for wrapping your loving crossed gendered legs around my breakables

Here’s to you, tranny section: for laying your testical-breast-living-cohesively-on-one-body, around my sentimental crap because I’m too much of a pack rat to truly just throw my shit out to the less fortunate...who, lets face it, could CLEARLY use, a porcelain unicorn on their nightstand

Here’s to you Stranger: for providing me with the too perfect asses of those trannies with the horrific boob jobs, bad make up and sometimes surprisingly big packages, for my entertainment while I handle the shitty task of once again, packing my brick a brack on the road to nomad land.

You’re supper duper

Broken Social Scene 2/5/09-Showbox Sodo

"If you always get up late, you’ll never be on time..."

(strength in numbers)

I know on this blog (aside from making up the occasional word) I like to throw around the word ‘full’ as a description for a band’s sound pretty freely like a game of “Keep the Hooker’s Peg Leg Away”. Well seeing as how I have no professional knowledge of music, let alone completely knowing how to play an instrument…it goes without saying that my vocabulary is a bit lax on the subject. So here I go armed with a dandy thesaurus…let’s count how many times I use the word ‘full’ in this entry.

After beginning my night at Neumo’s with a few cocktails and beers snuck out of the VIP room…I hastily ran off to Showbox Sodo. The show was sold out, maxed to the gills but luckily for me, a very special, spectacular young man, had put a ticket aside for me. He belongs on the cover of a Wheaties box, that one.

My companion for the evening was a bonnie lass; a pistol; a firecracker, and my tour guide of enjoyment. Where I was still a bit naive on the BSS tip(yes, I'm well aware of joys Wikipedia), she was teeming with experience of their voluminous musical library…at one point screaming “No pressure boys!!! NO PRESSURE” and me, along with a few others, judging by their looks, sitting there going “wow, she’s a bit harsh on the band” until they started playing and it became clear as an obvious shout out to the band “AHHHHHH(big animated a-HA face, by me). Then again, she could have jumped up on stage and pissed on their amp and it really wouldn’t have offended my snarky ass. Rock on girl, do your thang!!!

When the first guitar cords of KC Accidental struck, strong and loud backed by powerful drums, blasting my pleading eardrums, I was instantly blown and given chills. Both Showbox locations invoke an internal battle with me; sometimes bands sound great, sometimes like banshees screeching in a pillow fight. Not the case this night…this band was a pure spot on delight tickling my love bone. I dare say their performance has kicked up a new romance from me towards them…several of their songs cause me to shut my eyes, shake my head and absorb the full meal they are offering me…In fact I’m doing it now at my desk to “Stars and Sons”, my coworkers are laughing…because yes, I am clapping along. WHAAAA?!

BSS had about 32 members on the stage; ok, more like 10 or so, with a high kicking chorus line, a couple of dancing Orangutans and a donkey. To say their cup runneth over, might be an understatement. Alas, with all those peeps on stage, they give you a sound capable of gorging your ears with gooey goodness; horns, vocals, melodies ranging on ambient, girls, guys, guitar strategery, drum beats…It’s easy to get caught up in their bursting vibe of fun times, allowing your body to let loose and move to the music. I must admit, my shit totally spillith over, when they played Shoreline; dipping my head down, eyes closed and swayed to the music. Heaven.

(cell phone Chuck Norris attack)

Unfortunately for us, the show was cut short, as we had previous obligations back at Neumo’s for a friend’s performance. Nevertheless, I enjoyed a full hour’s date with the group and I can say with a high degree of certainty, that I will see them again, the next time they are within proximity of my old ass.

(FYI, I said “full” 9 times. Not too shabby)

Neko Case, Triple Door, KEXP concert 1/25/09

The skies are grey, my breath is visible and the snowflakes are falling...the kind of weather that perpetuates my sour mood. To quote a very talented musician from a favorite song: I might just lay down right here, in the traffic and die

So I sat and contemplated attending the KEXP VIP Neko Case concert, but in the end, it was the fact that I paid a generous donation to the radio organization for my membership, that won me over. So I braved the bitter Seattle weather wrapped in my favorite commie jacket and scarf, occasionally inhaling snowflakes up my nose(cold boogers, not cool).

I've said it before and I'll say it again...The Triple Door is an amazing place to see a show. The sound is stellar and the venue offers the intimacy of no bad seat in the place. Unfortunately for me, my date with Neko was a constant interruption of smack smack chomp chomp SNAP of the bitch next to me with her gum...She was a couple of feet away, but I shit you not, it was like she was in my left ear. I spent the majority of the show with my finger in my ear. I just couldn't shut her out otherwise:
Neko: "Hangin' round (chomp chomp[some pretty melody I have no fucking clue]SNAP CHOMP!)the time... hold on, hold on, hold on!"(pretty harmony with back up singer Kelly[SNAP!])

You know...I contemplated saying something to her, but how do you politely say "hey lady, cows are more quiet with their cud than you", without seeming bitchy or dealing with possible retribution? You never fully appreciate your own hearing and the full range of enjoyment TWO ears can give you, until you're reduced to just one.

Overall, the show was amazing. I have only a small familiarity with her music from what I am exposed to on KEXP. However, I enjoyed every song she played today and was rather bummed out when it was over a mere 30 minutes later; a decent amount of songs, but short in their entirety. Neko has a great repertory with her back up singer(I believe Kelly is her name) and they make quite the comedy duo. When a string broke on her lead guitarist instrument, she and her singer entertained the crowd with sarcasms, audience questions and overall great comic delivery. A good amount of the songs are from her upcoming album that will be released March 3rd. When she goes on tour and hits up Seattle sometime in June, I will be attending...

Set List:

Middle Cyclone

People Gotta Lotta Nerve

Don't Forget Me

I'm an Animal

Hold on, Hold on

Vengeance is Sleeping

The Next Time You Say "Forever"

That Teenage Feeling

Of the whole set "That Teenage Feeling" was my favorite:

"Now that we've met

We can only laugh at these regrets

Common as a winter cold

They're telephone poles

They follow each other

One, after another, after another

But now my heart is green as weeds

Grown to outlive their season

And nothing comforts me the same

As my brave friend who says,

"I don't care if forever never comes'

Cause I'm holding out for that teenage feeling

I'm holding out for that teenage feeling"

All the loves we had

All we ever knew

Did they fill me with so many secrets

That keep me from loving you'

Cause it's hard, hard"

A line that stuck with me (for personal reasons) throughout the show, from "Don't forget me"(which was also amazing):

"Nothing lasts forever, but I'll always love you"

Her music is great and her lyrics can cut you to the core, like they are your own personal anthem. Worth checking out

ahhhh the lazy life

Where have you been? I’ve been fighting the good fight in a galaxy far far away along side other Jedi Masters….ok, so I’ve been, a straight up now tell me, asshole for not writing in two months; but ya know, work and stress and life and blah blah blah, shut the fuck up Mel. Yeah, I know, lame; but honest and for-truly, I’ve got like 4 entries I’m preparing dear readers…all 3 of you.

So while I search the words to paint a visual picture of the following bands: Cold War Kids, We Are Scientists, Kings of Leon and NKOTB-that’s right-NEW KIDS ON THE MUTHA FUCKIN BLOCK BEYOTCHES-DON’T TRIP; I thought I would wax a bit on my history with music and why exactly it moves me the way it does.

So a long long time ago…in the early 80’s I was knee high to me da’s knee; and when I wasn’t grabbing his beers for sips, I was either signing along to he and his buddies ‘jamming’ or somewhere very near by listening. They played covers, mostly I believe, and I say this because I don’t rightfully recall them playing original music. At any rate, due to the cover-nisity (fuck yes, I make up words like forshizzle) of it all, I became quite fond of the classics like: The Beatles, Zep, Mac, Fucking Eagles, and many many others.

I was such a ham that I would dig into those plastic little saucers called, say it with me history class- “albums”, and play things like Pointer Sisters and B52s while dancing around pretending I was either a soulful afro’d black woman or a red headed maven with a bee hive; and yes, I would “perform” for audiences of furniture or Bryer horses when my parents had no time for me.

I use to know how to read music; built chops to play clarinet…John Lennon’s “Imagine” was my first song learned on the piano…so too was Beatles learnt on the guitar. But fuck all if I don’t remember how to do any of that shit now.

At any rate, growing up in a house where the men; pops and bro, would play guitar and me and moms would hum along, gave me an appreciation for the craft. I associate, as most do, music with moods, moments, feelings and situations; thus the stuff moves me, saddens me, lifts me up, or helps me be bitter road ragger on the highways of So Cal.

so just a little tid bit of myself and my history...a real tiny tid bit, because this well runs deep-so deep it'll put your butt to sleep

Gotta love the 80's or 70's, who know. rad Pampers though

the year 1989. Me, in a training bra

I’m bored…yep, at work; surprise. I was sitting here, day dreaming underneath a late summer stormy/cold sky, about fluffy snow and the realization that time if flying way too fast, as it’s already September. Then GNR came on my iPod and I started wondering when Axl is going to release Chinese Noodles or Laundry or Republic or whatever his mythical beast he keeps trying to feed to us over the past 50years as actuality but we all KNOW it’s a figment of his holey doped out ex rocker brain! Which in turn, got me to thinking about my first concert; the connection? It was Guns N Roses. The year: 1989 LA Coliseum, opening act Living Color; headliner, on again off again geriatric retirees, The Rolling Stones; and GNR smack dab in the middle. Not bad for a band that was on their sophomoric album follow up to mega Appetite release, Lies. 89, that’s my 6th grade year, if you’re curious. Nobody ever said my stoner 70’s rock/earthy parents were the Cleavers or made the best upbringing decisions. At least it wasn’t Debbie Gibson.

I give props to Living Color for being a talented rarity, an African American metal/rock band (see how PC I am?) in a land of big hair butt rock; like: Warrant, Brtny Fox and Poison, to name a few. But I’m not whole heartedly knocking the expensive European extensions wearing Rock of Love failure front man Brett Michaels band; cause my bff does have their greatest hits album and yes after many MANY years of a blissful Poison free existence, we still remember all the words. Probably not the best thing to admit

*Side Note* I had actually wanted to go to Boingo's farewell tour that year but wasn’t allowed to because my evil 6year older brother claimed that a sea of bewbies would be flashed; exposing my gentile eyes to unspeakable acts of ungodliness; yet I got to see Axl parading around in assless chaps and using fuck liberally. Good call pops, GNR was a MUCH more wholesome choice for my first concert experience. Is it any wonder why I walk around covered in tattoos and ghost holes from piercings?

They were rad, and thanks to singing along with “It’s So Easy”, I said ‘fuck’ for the first time in a lifelong onslaught, in front of my dad. From what my 11 year old brain remembers, they rocked it; but then again they were probably slurring in a heavily drugged/drunk induced haze, one cord away from projectile vomiting “OMFG Axl’s creamed corn is on my bra!!” on the groupies showing their titties in the front row (see bro, titties after all).

I don’t remember much of the stones themselves, but what I do remember is a majority of the crowd was there to see them. And while everyone was standing rocking out, my cousin Joel and I were passed out in our chairs. I do however remember standing up once or twice on my seat to catch a drift of what was going on; and being BLASTED by the sound of their music. Seriously, as I sat down, the surrounding people actually blocked the music enough that it sounded like I was listening to the stones from outside the venue. But if you’ve seen footage, I can sum it up like this: Jagger walks around, does some old mannish hip shaking dance/Idol-esque arm air punch; leans up against Richards and they both sing into the mic, while the other members look someone bored and dying for their ensure.

I may mock, but don’t worry, it hasn’t escaped me that one day, I too will be an ensure and vodka drinking granny with tattoos picking up on the youngest piece of meat that’ll give me the time of day; possibly with fake boobs at that point.

Radiohead, White River Amp 8/20/08

Oh. My. Fucking. Gawd.
My mind has been blown; I am the Jon and Radiohead is thy prostitute.

From the minute they took the stage, I knew I was in for concert going experience that might possibly have blown my first going experience (GNR/Rolling Stones, entry coming soon), out of the hemisphere. I was stone sober for this event, sitting amongst the periodic funny smelling smoke clouds and frankly, I’m glad I was. I felt like I was able to enjoy the show without bladder emergencies and absorb every fucking detail that was being given to me.

The weather seemed fitting…emo ‘I’m an agro spent youth and NO ONE GETS ME!’ gloom, would be an understatement. The clouds looked like angry murky grey waves viewed from the ocean floor, with the ever looming threat of a downpour; which didn’t actually start until ‘Dollars and Cents’, at which point I could say “Radiohead has made me proper wet in the pants” and literally mean it. I embraced the rain with my face turned to the sky; the cold however and being able to see my breathe with frozen toes in the middle of August-no so much.

I would’ve never bought a ticket for this show on my own. Not that I dislike them, I have managed to get almost every album for my collection, but more for the fact that I assumed, rightfully so, that it would be sleepy-time event, where a comfy la-z-boy recliner would be greatly benefited over the ass callus producing seats that the builders presume are acceptable. The price of tickets for a show of this caliber normally waylays my decision against the splurging. Thankfully, Anna prevailed and had an extra ticket; with regrets of it being in the lawn section, to which, I cared not-even with the rain. From my vantage point, Yorke was approximately a size that could fit on my thumbnail; again, I didn’t care. It’s not like this is a Manson show where you want to see every detail cause they get crazy on stage; this is a kick back gig, ie: sleepy time. So needless to say, I didn’t’ deem it necessary to be close enough to watch Yorke’s crazy flailing Charlie Manson moves
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rau4i1PohH8

(Thom Yorke sizes may vary)

The stage was flanked by large monitors that not only showed the band, but adapted to the curtains of LED. Speaking of LED’s…before the show started, we noticed the stage hands rolling out several rows of tubing from the top of the stage. Seizures be damned, cause once that shit got going, you were hypnotized with an array of patterns, flashing and a kaleidoscope of hues to capture every song’s mood. The pairing of lighting effects to the music just pushed their performance over the top; far beyond anything I've exerpienced in my concert goings.

The LED set up:
http://www.radiohead.com/themostgiganticflyingmouthforsometime/ViewEntry.html?EntryID=52

the power to run it:
http://www.radiohead.com/themostgiganticflyingmouthforsometime/
Suck this *band points at crotches* money hungry electric company swine! We’ll go green and use solar power and lower the emissions. You ain’t getting our duckets!

In terms of sound…I haven’t been to many blockbuster shows, I just prefer the intimacy of smaller theaters over the crowds and sometimes horrific blown out sounds of the bigger venues. Given that fact, I must say the sound for this show was by far, some of the best I’ve heard, big or small. The clarity, fullness and the fact that you could make out every note without the need for earplugs, was something my ears and body took in with great pleasure.

Given the combo of the near flawless sound and dazzling visuals, a few key songs stood out in my mind:
Pyramid Song- The stage appeared to be underwater, swimming in a blue lit hue, Greenwood, (Johnny I presume), channeled Jimmy Page, by playing his guitar as a stand up with a bow, creating a creepy whine, which carried on while Yorke played the piano at a slower tempo than the recorded version.

(Pyramid song)

National Anthem-began with a red laser light show; best described as taking a laser pin and going crazy against the wall, in a breakneck way that makes your cat go nuts. When the song starts to build with the horns into a general mess of noise and the repetition of “its holding on”, the red laser continues but is now joined by all the tubes being blue lit in a fashion that resembles a fuzzy t.v. screen, a la Poltergeist. Imagine that blue fuzz, coupled with the bright red snaking through it, and you’ve got ocular assault.

http://www.flickr.com/photo_embed.gne?id=2784896402

(just a taste of the above mentioned)

The Gloaming- started with a monitor panel on the floor of the stage, beating like a heart, in an emerald green hue in tempo with the base drum. When the chorus of “They should be ringing” with the building of the music, the LED tubes lit up, replicating a very fitting, emerald green ‘downpour’ onto the stage. I must admit, the coloring reminded me of the Wizard of Oz’s Emerald Castle.

(the Gloaming)

And one point, in all of their glorious flawlessness, Greenwood and Yorke take main stage to do an acoustic version of Faust Arp; to which Yorke screws up on the lyrics a few times; proving that he/they are not super human. He proceeds to start singing Neil Young's "Tell Me Why"; mumbling the words he doesn’t know; laughs; says “fuck it!” and continues on to finish the intended song. It’s good to see bands have fun and laugh in the face of mistakes instead of having teen temper tantrums and destroying their equipment before storming off in a “Mom won’t let me wear this slutty top-STOP CONTROLLING ME!” hissy fit off the stage. (yes, I like run on fluff sentences)

How to Disappear Completely. Sent Anna into a 50's musical love lorn look, with folded hands under her chin and one foot raised

Idioteque-was impressive for the bright white lighting patterns; you tube video attached
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0cvoFGXQrRo
(of course the video does it no justice. Key word search radiohead+white river, for more videos)

(Idioteque)

Set list:
01. 15 Step

02. Reckoner

03. Optimistic

04. There There

05. All I Need

06. Pyramid Song

07. Talk Show Host

08. The National Anthem

09. The Gloaming

10. Videotape

11. Lucky

12. Faust Arp

13. Jigsaw Falling Into Place

14. Climbing Up The Walls

15. Dollars and Cents

16. Nude

17. Bodysnatchers

Encore 1

18. How to Disappear Completely

19. Arpeggi/Weird Fishes

20. Idioteque

21. In Limbo

22. Street Spirit

Encore 2

23. You And Whose Army? [Thom dedicates to the people who demonstrated against the WTO in Seattle in 1999]

24. No Surprises

25. Everything In Its Right Place

In all they played a 2hour set and I was pleased that I knew all but one song "Talk show host" and was a little sad they didn't play my fav "Exit music (for a film)"; which I understand...noboyd wants to pass out in a puddle of drool in front of their peers. I think next time they come through, I will have to shell out the money for closer seats, just to get the full effect of band member visuals.

Pandora, not the box, but the site

As the wagon is still broken and I ride the public trans with the rest of the Hellevue drones, I am developing quite the addiction to Mocha's; tall non-fat, no whip, extra chocolate-Mocha’s, to be exact.

How is this your problem? Well, you clicked on this page, so it just is…and now I get to offend your eyes with my incoherent caffeine rambling words and utter bullshit. Ramble On…

I know I’m behind the times and just recently discover the joys of Pandora. And I know it is there to introduce you to new music you may have never heard of based off of the music selections you input into their genome…and on that level, it’s fucking fantastic (like: waking up in your bed after a night of drinking, naked, and there’s a body lying next to you and SCORE, they’re actually attractive! Now only if you can remember if you actually GOT some) Although, the site has introduced me to loads of new music and as of late, is sadly replacing my uber radio crush, KEXP; there’s one thing it can’t do: dedicate an entire station to just one band. Sometimes I have a hankering for a particular band, and of those sometimes, I don’t fully have the album collection; and damn it, I don’t want to use up my limited skips and rejections in hopes of hearing this band. Like Veruca Salt, I WANT IT NOW! Is it so damned hard to satisfy a fucking itch?! Possibly if it’s in the unmentionable region and you’re out in public, so you try to do some sort of squat, leg cross shift, to make your clothing do the itching for you, without having to blatantly reach down and scratch.

Ok, time to ween off the java, seriously

So the pros: It breaks down bands/songs you choose, into key elements and determines other music that fits the style, thus possibly introducing you to cool new shit
It also has NO commercials; at least on air commercials that assault your ears
You like something, you can buy it now

Some of my gripes: Can’t make a station band specific
Sometimes there’s a glitch in the Matrix and the system will lag as it “tries to determine” the next song to play
You may have inputted Karate, and the thing chooses Black Sabbath to play next. How the HELL it got that from Karate, I’ll never know.

Overall, it’s good shit when you’re tired of the weird DJ selections or repeating top 40

My dream station...

(took me hours to get this combo. OCD is thy name)

Am I listening to the soundtrack of "Love Actually" here?!

(just a fraction of the sometimes upwardly 9 piece band)

If you’re not going to the KEXP BBQ or are strapped for some cash, South Lake Union is having a block party…for FREE; and the only band that I’m familiar with is Grand Hallway. Decent mellow band hailing from good ole Seattle, with strings, slide guitar, piano and all the rest of the normal set up. I have a hard time placing them in any sort of musical category at which to compare or contrast. At any rate, with the lead singers androgynous voice liken to that of Sunny Day Real Estate or Silver Sun Pickups, it’s easy to see how you can sit out on the lawn with some wine, your favorite blankie or warm body and just chill

(singer Tomo Nakayama)

http://www.myspace.com/grandhallway

I saw these guys by pure happenstance at Showbox Sodo while visiting a bartender friend back in October 07. After what seemed like a looooong warm up, making me thinking they were armature and that I was in for a yawning experience; I was pleasantly surprised. They pack a punch.

Just a side note: off of their 07 release Yes is the Answer; “Seward Park”, is fast becoming my favorite song. With a soft beginning building with strong piano and strings, then stalling and building. It’s one of those songs that would fit perfectly into a love movie with one stupid character realizing they fucked up and running head long through crowded traffic filled streets towards the other stupid character who’s heading to the airport to move away to some far off land to do some stupid charity work. Or I dunno, the two stupid characters just part, all sad like, and I laugh. Bitter? Meh. Take this rant for what its worth as a description for their style.

Vampire Weekend, Cap Hill Block Party, 7/25/08

(so innocent, you could take em home to mama)

Now, from what I remember, their sound was fantastic; sounding as good as the recording. But I wasn’t fully sure, due to the fact I was 3 sheets to the thar wind by the time they took to the stage. So thankfully some less inebriated soul caught it on his camera:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Asic_V9eYos
(I know this is not Scorsese shit, but at least you can tell that they sounded good, thus proving my judgment was not skewed by booze and surrounding distractions)

So the first time these wee young pups from Columbia University came through Seattle, I had just learned about them, and subsequently was too slow on the draw to nab a ticket to their sold out show. Blasted!!! But thank you oh so much, to my peeps for rubbing it my face on how much they rocked it. Uh huh and here’s some rusty spikes in Green lake for you to fall on as I trip your ass, ninja style (cause you won’t see me coming-get it?!).

I’ve heard their style likened to Simon and Garfunkel, but I have a hard time fully accepting that comparison. I’m going to date myself a bit and say it reminds me of a few bands from way back when, Madness and The Specials; not that comparing them to Le Simon and Le Garfunhizzle makes that person any less old than I. Now, I realize I just named off two English Ska bands, and no, I’m not saying that Vamp is a spot on ringer for Ska. But, in the grand scheme of things, this is what they remind me of with their poppy beats and rhythms. I mean, the shit just makes you wanna move, much like the way Ska made you want to skank (the dance, not you’re cheap half bastard sister with a peg leg).

Another style, which apparently “Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa", and "Oxford Comma", derive from, is Congolese Soukous music:
“Soukous (also known as Lingala or Congo, and previously as African rumba) is a musical genre that originated in the two neighboring countries of Belgian Congo and French Congo during the 1930s and early 1940s, and which has gained popularity throughout Africa. "Soukous" (said to be a derivative of the French word secouer, to shake)was originally the name of a dance popular in the Congas in the late 1960s, and danced to an African version of rumba.”
(I seriously don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t copy and paste from Wikipedia)
I can see the shake description, as those two songs definitely make me want to shimmy. In fact, I was dancing up a storm during their set; I think I burned off a good 1000 calories of booze. zexy

Now the block party as a whole…repeat after me:
I MUST eat food before I drink
I MUST eat food before I drink
I MUST eat food before I drink…

Ok, so you don’t have to repeat after ME, but I think I should at least get this shit tattooed on my forearm as a mantra; cause eating a wheat then with a lemon zest thinking I’m on some super model diet, is no way to survive on my drinking habits. Due to the fact that I ingested a decent amount of alcohol this year on said empty stomach, helped me to maintain my annoyance amongst the masses; and yes, I managed to have a good time without the urge of putting the smack down. (If I remember correctly, last year, I advanced on a trouble maker with heel in hand; until the ex stopped me). I learned that avoiding the beer garden with their $4 Miller High Life drafts (you can get a 6can tall boy pack for that cost), and hitting up the happy hours at the bars instead; will not only save you some serious coin, but keep you from wetting yourself like a 4year old scared by clowns because you don’t want to use a porto shitter. Let’s face facts, no one wants to use, let alone plant their dainty derriere on one of those things. So unfair boys got a point and shoot device, giving them the freedom on peeing on a tree without uncomfortable squatting and praying you don’t piss on your shoes or loose your balance and fall in your fresh puddle-wait, sugar ramble.

(always a pillar of the community and a fine example of lady-hood)

This year’s line up didn’t grab me as much as last year; or I should say I didn’t try to rush around to see everyone like last year. Neumo’s is a cluster on a normal basis, add in the block party and it’s just fucking hell. So I was pretty much stationed at the Cha Cha, the beer garden and the Comet; with full attempts to watch the oh so smart idea of Girl Talk and the madness on the stage, and Les Savy Fav with the ever dynamo front man Tim Harrington-can I possibly say LSD while preggers with this one?

(Girl Talk, all one of him in white head band)

(guy in wife beater "dude are you playing W.O.W?! I'm totally a level 7 Warlock)

(the drunk masses on stage with Girl Talk)

(Tim Harrington asks "would you like to dig for my belly button lint...with your tongue?)

At any rate, I got away without an indecent exposure citation, my dogs were not barking, I harassed a couple of tall boys, didn’t molest anyone (I think), no fights (I’m actually quite docile, like a lemur), spilled some beers (sorry D), laughed at some smelly hipsters, enjoyed some excellent people watching and caught my reason for coming and the main act in it’s entirety without: passing out, puking, or falling down. I think I did pretty okie dokie

now I just need to make some funnel with a tube that meets up to the vag for a make shift penis, so girls can stand up too!

VIVE LA REVOLUTION!