part of me wants to stop counting. it's like when you keep looking at the clock at work. time drags unbearably when you're diligently monitoring it.... maybe tomorrow will be different.... anyway,
it's cold outside. the snow/hail/sleet mutation that fell earlier today has the strange, icy and grainy consistency of corn meal. it's like our yard is partially covered in errant scraps of styrofoam packing material. we had somewhat of a mild week, and now we're paying for it. but it could be a lot worse. at least we're not flooded out of our homes, and the birds aren't falling out of the sky (yet).
hope your hike was grooovy. i saw this today and thought you might enjoy it. the description is: The eight hippest hipsters in Silverlake strive to live their art, enlighten the masses and pay the rent.
heard the club Echoplex mentioned (where Deerhoof will be playing next week!)? you probably ran in to a few of these types recently, hmmm? this little skit feels more like a social commentary than it does comedy. i didn't really laugh at it, but i feel where it's coming from. i'll bet you do too.
so, i'm gonna save Yo La Tengo week for later, (speaking of hipness, they're like gods) closer to their arrival in your area. ok? for tonight, i want to send you this:
(sorta). feeling of few words today. absolutely thrashed from two split doubles in a row, and the veritable Pizza-pocalypse that is MegaSlice. they asked me to work again tomorrow night (would be the third consecutive split double, kind of like the work equivalent of a groin pull: boring, slow store for 6 hours, balls to the wall new store for 6 hours) but i declined and offered my services for Sunday morning, which will be the reverse groin pull. but the money will come in handy. i'll probably leave the MegaSlice paycheck at home, un-cashed, and use it to play catch up when i return. (if i return.) just stopping by the house to change shoes, write to you, and gather a couple supplies. am going to C&E's for drinks and some much-needed unwinding. in honor of them, here's their special tune:
hey have you heard of this really rad totally new band called The Black Keys that i've discovered just now, way before anyone else has ever heard of them? man, once everybody hears these guys they're gonna be all
Wow Thanks Bill for Hearing About This Crazy Good Music and Telling Us About It Like It's Been Your Precious Little Secret Forever But Now It's Loose and Can't Be Contained So You Might as Well Tell Everybody Who'll Listen That You've Seen Them a Dozen Times and Own Every Tour Shirt and Seven-Inch Single and They're All Stained and Worn Out Because You Love Them So Much But Nobody Else Ever Knew Until Now and We All Can Thank You for Finally Sharing It With Us Even Though You Privately Resent Its New-Found Popularity.
yep. that's gonna happen. people are gonna say that and i'm'a be like You're Welcome, Bitches. soak it in. eat it up. just like y'all eat up the Always Sunny and the Modern Family now. all thanks to meeeeeeeee.
so anyway, this is My Favorite Black Keys song and if anybody else tries to claim it then they suck and i said it first. cuz i'm ground floor with these cats. booyakasha!
hey maybe tomorrow i'll tell y'all about this super underground, ultra-esoteric new duo call HALL & OATES that's gonna own your asses in a hot minute. you heard it here first!!
is that gross? they're not like talons (yet) but they're a little wolfman-y. i can't find the damn clippers anywhere, and i never remember to pick one up when i'm at a pharmacy or the grocery. this would be the perfect occasion for a Nine Inch Nails song, but i don't like them. the soundtrack to "The Social Network" was totally forgettable and i'm convinced he won because the Globes try to be "hip" more than anything. ((and i still can't get over "Black Swan" not winning best picture. "The Social Network" was abysmally loathsome. "Black Swan" had art, it had drama, it had momentum, it had performances you couldn't ignore. "The Social Network" was devoid of charm, populated by assholes and dickwads, acted with all the flare and dynamic as a stale saltine, and the only reason i stayed in the theater is because my brother-in-law bought the tickets. enough ranting.))
anyway, been listening to Group Home quite a bit lately. little did i know, back in the day when i used to constantly bang this Gang Starr tape, that
The Nutcracker, who is my age and only 16 when he cut this track, was in this thing called Group Home. here's that track, which holds probably the only hip-hop reference to Scrooge McDuck, and definitely the only one to rhyme McDuck with "suck my nuts".
ain't that dope? one of DJ Premiere's best beats, imho. so Sirius XM old school rap station plays Group Home every now and again, but they usually play either "Supa Star" or "Livin' Proof". i've downloaded their only (?) record but only kept those two tracks. well today, i heard another. again, the Primo beat is fresh and these two kids just level it. most "youngster" rap is either too safe or too over-ambitious, (Li'l Bow Bow, Shaheim the Rugged Child), and the swagger always feels more tacked-on than real. none of that happens with Group Home, though, apart from the occasional lyrical misfire. but for the most part, these kids are sharp and they made one lean, mean record. enjoy "Suspended in Time".
missed talking with you on your lunch... hopefully we can make it up later.
gotta be quick today. hope your day eased up on you a little. i am cooking and cleaning and about to go do laundry, and bring some soup to our friends. you are wonderful and i miss your face. this song i like very much, but it only exists on YouTube.
it rained on our parade today. kinda watered it down,too. (pun not intended.) the flyers around the neighborhood stated the parade would start at 11am but by the time your dad and i got there, around 1145, it still hadn't begun. we walked down to Jester's Cafe, got a couple cups of coffee, and posted up out front, under a tree.
wasn't long til we ran in to this guy. (this is his pose for you, btw.) seems like the two days i'm guaranteed to see him are Halloween and MLK Day. like two or three years in a row i've seen him on those days. he says he's doing well, still lives at the Carolina and still doesn't have an email address or a mobile phone. Byron came by, ("Byyyyroooon, my man") begging for food, but nobody gave. Sean then told me a story of how he first met Byron about 20 years ago when they were both "locked up" for a spell. a couple with kids that we know but i always forget their names walked past and i said hello and Sean made some comment about how i know all the white women with babies around here, huh? i'm like how does one constitute them all? starting trouble, as always....
...the reason i bring this up is because then this happened. the conversation was
something like this: "do i know you?i think i know you." "do you go to the theater at all?" "no not really." "ever been locked up?" "Excuse me?" "i think i knew your brother.i probably corrupted his mind." "he lives in South Carolina." "oh yeah, cool"... turns out they did know each other, sorta. eventually, he wound up in the parade. somebody he knew was walking, he went out to say hey, and just kinda kept going....
there weren't any steppers this year. none. a couple of marching bands braved the rain (which was fairly lite) and chilly breeze, but no dancers at all. and none of the ATVs or bikers did any tricks. your dad noticed a group of horses getting riled up from the noise of being directly behind the constantly revving ATVs. i imagined the exhaust fumes weren't any picnic either.
i had some video of a junior high marching band routine but our phones take video in a weird format so i can't watch or upload it. they were the best act of the parade, though. and i noticed a lot more passing-candy-out this year than the usual hurl-it-at-the-crowd. (still plenty hurling though.) kids were still clamoring to pick the candy out of the puddles by the sidewalks, but it was more like first-go-first-grab and the rest of the kids wait for another round. cold, wet candy? that's alright, you go ahead.
hey... remember this? i'm pretty sure this is 2005. you took this for your photo class. i love the smeared wheels.
what about this, maybe 2007 or 8.
your dad and i have been to like 4 or 5 of these consecutively, and we missed you. remember one year you danced with the Church's Chicken, and another year Wynter met us there? Sean made a remark like "damn, makin your woman work on Martin Luther King Day. that's cold." then i told him where you were and what you were doing and he was really impressed. "all right, Kashka! movin up that ladder!" and the couple who i can't name asked where you were too, and wish you luck.
hope your MLK Day is treating you right. as requested:
Trish Keenan - vocalist, multi-instrumentalist, of Broadcast, 1968-2011.
at a loss today. it wouldn't do justice to recount our night in Chapel Hill, seeing Broadcast, (Oct 16, 2009, to be exact) because the meat of that story is the chaos we created after the show. i will say, though, that their set was incredible and couldn't have come at a more vital time. they were experimenting with a new sound, and a new approach to live music. their album Broadcast and the Focus Group Investigate Witch Cults of the Radio Age was, by far, my favorite album of 2009 and it meant the world to me to see that pathos in action. and they were such sweet, approachable people, Trish and Jim. we talked their ears off and got shmammered; kept being threatened by security... don't smoke inside, don't drink outside.... i really appreciated their candor and tolerance of us. the book that Trish recommended to you, The Easy Way to Quit Smoking sits prominently, still, on our bookcase. we should probably read it. i remember her getting a little giggly when saying "fag" to mean "cigarette", having briefly forgotten the American connotation. you and she talked for a while, huh?! TR and i were all gear and tech talk with Jim, but you and Trish were all smiles and laughter. what a great night.
this video below is a similar set to what we saw. i don't recall if it's the same film (although i remember it was by Julian House, who runs the Ghost Box label, and did a lot of album covers for Broadcast and Stereolab) and this music seems a little more harsh and droney than what we experienced. what we heard was a lot closer to the music above than this. but it's here because it's the closest we can get to reliving that experience, visually.
there have been musicians that i admire who've passed during my lifetime. somehow losing Ms. Keenan cuts deeper than, say, Dimebag Darrell. sure i loved Pantera (still do in many ways) and the way Dime was taken from us still is haunting. yet Broadcast was really on the cusp of something new and wonderful. and now the only glimpses into what their future may have sounded like will carry the unfortunately bittersweet weight of posthumous-ness.
