Big Surprise

I finally got my 1st comment! From.... a spammer. As I was looking into how to get rid of the comment, another comment comes up. "Your blog is interesting. Check out mine." Oh my God. Maybe I'm not just sitting here writing in a vacuum and I do have more than one reader. (Hi, Scott.) So I checked into the 2nd poster's blog. Spammer! His only comment is from someone saying "Please stop soliciting my blogs." If it weren't for occupant mail the only mail I'd get is bills.

See, at first I was hesitant to put the comments on because I was afraid I'd get all these wiseass kids commenting and I don't have the time to babysit them because the only kid allowed to be a wiseass on my blog is me. I turned the comment section on because I didn't want to be accused of being chickenshit and hiding from commenters. And in case someone had a job offer or wanted to donate to the film fund. I didn't want some punk (and not as in rocker and not rocker as in Johnny) telling me I'm a big fat idiot. Well, as the song goes, 2 outta 3 ain't bad. So now I opened it up to comments and I get spam. I guess I should look on the bright side--they weren't spams about my penis size. So if there's nothing wrong with my size, stop emailing me. Of course I could point out that I don't have a penis but that won't stop spammers in the 1st place and the joke ain't funny if you have to explain it.

To avoid comments there's something called word verification that I can add. It's like when you go to buy tix online thru Ticketmaster--or at least check to see if there's tix still available. You see a wavy word on a patterned background and then you retype the word. I'm afraid that might deter genuine commenters but then again.... Also, when I got my Briefs ticket, I got an awesome (and actual, or as actual a word as word verification can come up with) word: Slabby. I wanted to email the Briefs and share that with them but I didn't. Besides, in case anybody out there needs a band name maybe word verification can help them. (But not Slabby.) So we'll see.

Zut Allors! C'est Les Sans Culottes!

La Laque/The Dansettes/Les Sans Culottes//Knitting Factory//9/28/05

Continuing my Les Sans Culottes winning streak--unable to make the free shows but free for the shows where there's a cover (this is the 3rd time this happened this year)--I went to the Knit to see LSC because they really shine when performing on a proper stage.

Last time I saw them was opening for The Spunk Lads for the Lads' final show @ Freddy's and after braving an extreme case of Subway Hell, I got there only to be wedged in the crowd and unable to dance. I mean, the only way to see a show is right up front and in the thick of things, but being toe-to-toe with Clermont Ferrand was a tad too close; the only thing separating us was a mic stand. Then again, when I saw LSC last year @ The Tap Bar I was the only one dancing. They dedicated "SOS Elefant" to me. I may not know French, but I do know they were telling me I dance like an elephant. Yeah, well, I knew that.

I figured the Knit's own ad that said 7:30 was a longshot. I should stop being such a follower and question authority more (especially where the Knitting Factory is concerned) because I headed down there at 7. Even though the V came first and I could've taken that all the way to 14th for the 1, I got off at Jackson Heights to get the F to save time. At 57/7 a man gets on with a stack of Onions in his hand. Don't tell me he's going to try to sell a free paper in order to get money. He announces that he's just a homeless guy and if we don't want to spend $1 for Street News we can just give him money. I had to cover my mouth to keep from laughing out loud. 'Course I had to wonder if he really knew that he wasn't carrying Street News all along and he's faking being strung out or if he's really strung out. I didn't waste too much time wondering, don't worry. And just my luck that he's carrying last week's Onion and not this week's. 'Cause if he had the recent one I'd've paid the dollar. Hey, I need to read this week's Onion and he needs money to buy drugs or a 40.

And of course I arrive at the Knit a little after 7:30 to find that the doors aren't open. But it hardly matters because I got to witness the entrepreneur on the subway. At least they had the main bar open and didn't send us downstairs only to find out that we can't wait outside the Tap Bar because it's not open and go downstairs to the Old Office. When I finally got inside I, for some reason, sat on the stage. I was able to haul ass up there. Of course I almost gave myself a leg cramp. Note to self: Don't get onstage at the Knit unless someone carries you. See, there used to be stairs by the stage door before they renovated the space. Before the show started, Ali La Pointe recognized me from their gig with the Lads and came by to say hi. He told me he's never been onstage in the Main Space. I told him I have, not counting my sitting there on it. We might've had a bit of a communication breakdown, as I don't speak French and he's not that good with English.

As I said before, I don't understand French (so I'm hoping this title says "Woohoo! It's Les Sans Culottes!" if not I'll fix it) and had to wonder why La Laque would choose a name that's pronounced as "lack." I'm sure it's French for "We kick ass," but I found something lacking. Sorry, Laquing. They were ok, don't get me wrong, but I just felt like I was watching opera and I felt stupid and uncultcha-ed. Y'know, why do punx always have 1-2-3-4 in their songs, they can't count any higher (except for the 5678s, though I don't know if they can count any lower.) The singer looked like a French Holly Golightly (from the movie, not the band) and the keyboard player was in a jacket/shirt with a plunging neckline and shoulder pads. Her hair was pulled back severely, making me think that she could've been one of those robochicks from a Robert Palmer video in a previous life. They dressed in all black and white and sounded a little like a French Portishead. They'd be perfect for Joe's Pub, though the woman behind me had her fingers in her ears. The best moment was during their last song--not because it was but because their drummer took off his black sweater to reveal a Casualties shirt. Not that I'm a Casualties fan but you get my point.

I was curious about The Dansettes because they seem to always end up on LSC bills as of late and I missed them while the Pianos show was sold out and they weren't letting anyone in. (It cleared out after them.) The Dansettes feature 3 gals in retro dresses backed by a band. Problem is, I know the look they're going for and one of the women had tattoos and a nose ring and it threw off the look. Elbow-length gloves for will help considerably. Hell, all 3 should have gloves. They sounded like an act that would've performed at a USO show in the 40s: big, revival-sounding organ and torch songs.

With all that space for Les Sans Culottes to be their usual, effervescent selves they shone through. Last time I saw them, the band seemed a little frozen (if that's possible for a sweatbox created by people just standing still, probably exceeding maximum occupancy levels). Plus, opening for the Lads' last show had to be a daunting task. This time around, all the room to move around onstage and in the crowd made for a fun dance party with a French twist. When they did "Sabine" (the song, not the woman) one guy yelled, "I know that one!" But it wasn't the same without Roger in the crowd. And The Zambonis being an opening act. And I was a lot younger all those gigs ago. Walking to the train I saw the Empire State Bldg. lit up in blue, white, and red. A coincidence, I know, but still. And wouldn't ya know it, I had something in my eye again. Must've been schmutz.

And then it was oui!oui!oui! all the way home.

Business As Usual

Emilyn Brodsky/No One And The Somebodies/Bang!Bang!/The Show Is The Rainbow/Books On Tape//Scenic//9/24/05

After a killer early-morning return and getting up later in the morning for a 6-mile hike, the last thing I wanted to do was go see a few bands. But I did because it was on the LES and I was eager to check out Scenic and the show was supposed to start at 7 and be over at 11 for a late show. From the outside the place kinda reminds me of Southpaw; it's an actual venue and not a bar that happens to have a stage/performance area. There's an upper and lower level and the show was on the downstairs level. That space is like the performance space at Cakeshop but without the sloping floor. And it's bigger. I got in at 7 and the place was deserted save for a bearded, heavy-set guy with a mullet and wearing a Footloose T-shirt, fiddling around on a laptop. There was nobody to give my $6 to so I just sat there and hoped nobody'd hit me up for it.

About 15 minutes later a guy comes in and announces, "The only people here are the 3rd, 4th, and 5th bands. I called Emilyn and she's not answering, the door guy hasn't left his house in Westchester yet, the show was supposed to have started already because the late show is going on in here. So we have to be done by 11 and nobody's here yet--" Uh, hi. I'm here to see the show and write about it. "--So we're gonna have ourselves a great show!"

Business as usual. I continued reading as they continued to fret that the show was supposed to have started already. Seeing me, he asks, "Are you in one of the bands?"

I told him I was there to see the show, thinking that I should've told him I was there to write about it. As they tried to hammer out the revamped set times, I hoped they didn't charge me. This is ridiculous. The door guy should've been there in time.

At around 7:40 a woman comes in and gets onstage. She's trailed by a group of women who line the bench next to me. The girl to my immediate right has a college textbook in her lap, the girl next to her is knitting. Others have long skirts. They really need to bathe. Look, womyn, you can still be against patriarchy and shower. It's not mutually exclusive. Emilyn Brodsky, a painter's cap covering her buzzcut and in a thrift-store sweater, is Ani DiFranco with a ukelele. She checks her cellphone and announces which friends are calling to say they can't make it while reading her lyrics as she strums. And worries aloud that accidentally dousing herself in patchouli makes her smell like a hippie.

The door guy finally arrives after her set and tries to collect money off everyone who NOATS's drummer missed the first time around. Still he misses me. "I'm just lookin' out for you guys," he assures NOATS as they set up. Well, if you really were looking out for them, you'd've been here on time and polling. No One And The Somebodies have a crew that doesn't even look old enough to drink. Hell, their keyboard player doesn't even look like he's old enough to get into shows. Watching them is like watching kids rehearse in a basement. So I wasn't expecting them to be one of the best punk bands I've seen in a while. Some ska, metal, circus music, and the drummer balancing himself on an upturned section of a guardrail and drumming with two screwdrivers. NOATS didn't seem to take themselves seriously and were just there to have fun and in turn we all did. They kept it going past their set time in hopes that Bang! Bang! would show but they were still missing. They were pulling up as I paid for my CD.

Chicago's Bang! Bang! is like the Epoxies but without all the FX and show. Drummer Mike Wednesday's new wavey shades suggests that they're one of those "the past is the future" bands but no. A tight, explosive little pop punk trio, they're what the Trakes wanna be when they grow up. Bang!Bang! apologized profusely for being late due to illness in the band. Bassist Gretta Fine was sick and they needed to hit every rest stop, and then they got stuck in the Holland Tunnel. I gave them the benefit of the doubt and bought a CD.

The bearded guy in the Footloose shirt is The Show Is The Rainbow. He's a shameless Atom & His Package ripoff with video affects. Just listening to him introducing his songs had me ready to sing along to Atom songs. Even his pronunciations were dead-on Atom. Thing is, Atom did it first and better. And Atom's a nice guy. TSITR's videos were funny, I'll give him that. Except for the parts where he's naked in the shower. I couldn't stomach watching this guy pace around and jump up on barstools like he came up with this genre all on his own. And when he took his shirt off. He did mention all the shrooms he did.

Books On Tape is the best DJ I've seen and what techno/electronica should be. He has a table with his gear spread out and plugged in--guitar pedals, synths, and, well, I only really recognized the guitar pedals. Books danced around behind the table, hitting guitar pedals and noodling with the other gear. He looked like a mad scientist running around, adding different amounts of chemicals together just to see what happens. I was utterly amazed that he could get music out of all of this and I was just watching him, gaping in delight. This is why I said he's a DJ; it reminded me of watching DJs scratching, only updated for the 21st century. The only thing missing were the breakdancers. But there was a group of people dancing with abandon to match Books's sonic experimentations. Except he kept complaining about "the 14-yr-old" who grabbed his hat and threw it on the floor--NOATS's keyboard player. Let it go, man. In between every song he had to bring this up. "He left because he has a curfew," his band defended. Someone requested a 10-minute song but Books said no because he didn't want to disrespect the club. TSITR interrupted with a chant of "Disrespect the club! Disrespect the club!" A woman joined in, but Books said he wasn't going to disrespect the club after they let him play.

The other big thing about Scenic: The burgers and fries. Yup, if you've come a distance for an early show and therefore had to eat early on in the evening, they're cooking up burgers and fries even late. $3 gets you a White Castle-sized burger and crispy, golden fries. Mmmm, Scenic. The burgers and fries were another reason I wanted to se the show. Seeing a show @ Scenic and not getting food is like seeing a band at Cakeshop and hitting up the record store on the way out. See, by cutting out the middleman and not charging me admission I was able to support 2 bands and the venue.

Button-O-Matic!

I've been a button fanatic from the get-go. When I was younger I strung the textile buttons I'd get at flea markets into necklaces using the red and white string that ties cake boxes. Those that didn't make the necklace or were waiting for string to become available were named and then moved into the apartment complex that was actually a piece of packing styrofoam with different levels for the garage and pool. It's not that we were poor, I was just really creative. (And, well.....) The only one I really remeber was a white-with-brown-spot shank button named Cigarette. (God, this is so embarassing to admit thank God nobody's reading this yet.) Now that I think about it, maybe there was something else in city tap water besides flouride in those days. Maybe there's something in the white stuff that rose to the top of a glass of tap water. Maybe that's why we weren't allowed to drink the water until it "settled."

By the time I hit junior high buttons with holes were left to clothes and pinbacks were all the rage. I had these large motion buttons that had different pictures when you held them at different angles on my denim jacket (with shoulder pads, of course. I also bought studs and metal collar tips) and buttons with sayings--Youth is that brief period just prior to reality; I gave up bowling for sex, the balls are lighter and you don't change shoes. (I was in a youth group that went bowling.)

At some point these evolved into band logo buttons. I had a messenger-style bag that I used up until the last time my back went out and had buttons all over the front flap. The problem with this was that not only did total strangers feel the need to read every one of them in the elevator and tell me about the buttons they used to have when they were my age, I lost 2. The Donnas' Skintight logo and the Kung Fu Monkeys. Somehow, I was able to get in touch with the Kung Fu Monkeys and get a replacement but that had a different saying. The next problem was storage. First it was cloth napkins but those got too heavy, plus pins fell off. So I have 3 display frames from The Container Store and a line of pins on my desk waiting for me to get around to laying out the money I don't have.

Hey, like I said, I've been a button fanatic from the get-go. I always get buttons from bands that I've seen and like, like a little souvenier from the show. I may not be able to afford a CD (or I already have it) so I'm all about the pins and stickers. And if they don't have pins at the show I'm always on Interpunk buying, like, 3 at a time and sometimes from a band I haven't seen in a while or that I already have a pin for just so I'm not putting $2 and shipping on my credit card. I forgot which band I was looking for that didn't have pins on Interpunk that yielded Pinstand. I linked to them even though they're kinda the mack daddy of pins. Run by Joly of Punkcast and Death Disco fame, they take fan requests and have a comprehensive band roster. Haven't tried it yet because I don't know if that's extra money. And it's not like they're fly-by-nighters. I should link to 986 Disposable, even though they're primarily H/C, but they make magnets.

Last week I was reading The Onion and the ad for Busy Beaver Button Co. caught my eye. (See, there is a point to all this.) I checked them out, thinking Scott could use the info for his new band. Turns out I was getting way ahead of myself, but Busy Beaver has something called So and So's Button-o-Matic. For just 50 cents, you can get a pin from their vending machine button gallery. There's supposedly vending machines at 55DSL in Union Square and Diesel on 60th. Not wanting any of you guys to wander into a Diesel store unnecessarily, I checked into this. The store has a DJ and a listening station with an Interpol CD in the display but no Button-O-Matic. We need more Button-o-Matics. There IS one at Miniminimarket at 218 Bedford. So if you're tired of going to boutiques and not being able to afford anything, head to Miniminimarket and get a button. If it's been a while since you've found happiness in a weeble, head to Miniminimarket. And be sure to post what you got. As the song goes, Happiness runs in a circular motion.

The Fine Print

I found this verrrry interesting and deserving of its own post because it's quite involved. You'll see what I mean in a bit......

On my way out of Ace Of Clubs I got a better look at the poster for the show. It depicts George Burns not as God but as the devil. He's standing in hell, under the date in flaming graphics and under that, it says, In The Highly Coveted 7PM Slot (Now, I appreciate sarcasm as much as the next person but do you think maybe that "highly coveted 7PM slot" has anything to do with the fact that you suck?)

Anyhoo, Mr. Satan is holding an unfurled document. The fine print, under CMJ Contract, says:

This contract hereby states that CMJ didn't bother to listen to your demo, completely rejected you from their festival, kept 100% of the mandatory entrance fee, but will still let you in if you have a hook-up. Oh, yeah. Also, CMJ requires that you hand over all the money that your band takes in at the door of the venue in which you never chose to play. Furthermore, don't try to use you're "free badge" at any area venues as most clubs will tell you that they've reached capacity for CMJ badges. Best of luck at your showcase, where you can rub shoulders with actual "industry" people.

Signed, in a dripping-blood font, by The Rizzaks.

Hmmm. Again, this "being rejected from the festival" thing? Perhaps it has something to do with your suckiness and the fact that you're trying to cover for it with your shtick? Furthermore, I could point out that you used the wrong version of your on your poster and how embarrassing to be so busy laughing at your own cleverness that you let that fly, but I know. You're from Rizzakistan so I'll go easy on you for that.

Maybe thesmokinggun has a copy of the real CMJ contract, but you mean to tell me that CMJ is nothing but a brand-name M.E.A.N.Y.fest? CMJ takes the money a band makes at the door? Even if yout buy an advanced ticket at Other Music? Well, I guess they need some way to cover all the subway maps with the CMJ logos and DKNY lanyards. I wonder what would happen if you put your CMJ badges on another neck cord. And what "industry people"? I never see industry people, only kids from college radio stations. And the bass player from Say Hi To Your Mom. He was at the Tralala show and asked me if I was a writer. I told him I try to be as my brain screamed, Yes! He introduced himself and I was tempted to say, "Say Hi To Your Mom," but I didn't because he probably gets that a lot. And kicks himself for being in a band with that name.

Now. If the fine print is true--I'm assuming it's based in truth--I look forward to the anti-CMJ festival next year. No DKNY neck cords needed, no "free badges" for clubs that have a quota for how many badges they let in (That one I knew about. You think you're buying a golden ticket to a musical shmorgasboard but on the marathon site they don't tell you that each club has a limit on CMJ badges and you may be SOL, just the price of registration.) Showcases of note will be the Freddy's Backroom showcase, starring the bands that call Freddy's their home, Rocky Sullivan's Irish Rock Showcase, starring Seanchai and the Unity Squad and the United 32s and others. Xris could put on a show in Tompkins Square. That leaves one day. Hmmm. Eh, maybe I'll get some sleep that night. Gotta save my energy. And money. And film.

Say What?!

Nick Sylvester's CMJ recap, 9/20/05

How could something that starts so brilliantly turn into a mass of mastubatory gobbledygook? Oh, right. It's a Village Voice music review. A/K/A "What is the sound of one hand masturbating while the other alternates between the laptop and patting yourself on the back?" But which bands sucked? Which didn't? Why spend all that time on cutesy segues and wink-wink references if not everyone knows what he's talking about? Then again, I guess since I didn't get it and don't know the secret handshake, I am therefore lame. And old. Still, this is slightly more coherent than a Christgau review because look who I'm comparing it to.

So if you--like me--find yourself losing interest with Robert Christgau by the time you return with the dictionary/thesaurus, pull up a chair, grab some tea (or coffee) and crumpets and finger sandwiches and let's have a nice, civilized discussion about music. (Bring your own tea, coffee, crumpets, and finger sandwiches.) And don't make me have to ban any of your asses from posting to this site.

Thanx! Enjoy!

Right On, Q

Super System/Q and not U//Knitting Factory//9/20/05

Hey, big surprise. I went to a show last night. It made more sense when I bought the tix months ago, before I even started the blog and before I realized that the show would be a few days after CMJ weekend and I'd have a few posts to catch up on. And I gotta admit, the big ole Q had something to do with it. One of these days if I ever get all my pix online or published I can say that I have all bands covered from Aa to the Zambonis. And I'm sick of the Queers being the only Q band listed anywhere. So it was more of a curiosity thing for me and the early show was also a big plus.

Both Super System & Q and not U play what's called "college music" nowadays. Super System seemed to have a little more urban influence. Both had keybs/samplers. Q and not U are the heaviest/punkest of the keybs/synth/sampler bands that are a dime a dozen on the LES and calling themselves punk--like a Q not being followed by a U. They're the only ones that had a dance party/pit going on right from the start and people sweating and slamming into me. It brought to mind Chuck Eddy's quip about Group Sounds: We need this like we need a hole in the head. Group Sounds, we mean. (Hey, when he's right, he's right.) This is probably what a Q not followed by a U sounds like.

They said they started in 1998 and the NYC scene was pretty dead. They didn't play a gig here until 2000 and then everything bloomed. "And look at you now!" yelled someone in the audience. So, wait. Does that mean they're electroclash? No, even I know that much.

Tralala, La La La La

Face Tomorrow/Blow Up Hollywood/Looker/Tralala/The Teeth//Ace Of Clubs//9/17/05

I actually had 2 choices for last nite. My first choice was Tralala but I was thinking about The Living Things. Tralala was on at "11" and Living Things at "10" at Scenic. I was flipping thru Spin once when I was bored and it was there, the coverline was "The Best Punk Band You Never Heard" and although I had a few guesses and suggestions, it wasn't The Living Things. I'd intended to catch them twice this year, once in June @ The Delancey but they told me the band cancelled at the last minute and then they were @ Cakeshop but I ended up hurting my toe 2 days prior and couldn't going anywhere. Tralala are getting mad buzz and they were at Cakeshop 8/31, the same day I went to see Shellshocked and the only reason I went to see Shellshocked was because I'd already decided to catch Tralala during CMJ. I was thinking The Scenic bill would've had less bands that I haven't heard of to wait through. And not that I could've stayed for the 1AM band, Towers Of London, but I was a little curious. Metal Edge was pretty much planning to go over there and suck their dicks and that was really making me decide to stick with Tralala. I was afraid they--and/or Living Things--would turn out to be the emporer's new favorite band. I've never seen Tralala but I already felt like I was giving my friends the slip in order to try to get in with the popular kids. Besides, there were no cover charges given and I figured there was a greater chance of a lesser cover at Ace Of Clubs, even though I was curious about the burgers and fries @ Scenic. And I already changed my mind once at the last minute when I went to see Shellshag. Maybe I should stick with my first choice and see what happens.

There was one other thing that also had me questioning my choice. After I'd decided on Ace Of Clubs, I checked the updated CMJ listings and printed 'em all out for each day like a good reporter and Spicy Rizzacks were on at 7:30. Ugh. So I had to be late enough to to miss them and early enough to get a good spot. 10 freakin dollars @ Ace Of Clubs! I got there at 9 and there was a band onstage and nobody there. Did I make the wrong choice? They were soundchecking with a foreign accent and I worried for a sec that it really was the Spicy Rizzacks going on 2 hrs. late.

But, no, it was Face Tomorrow from Holland, here for their 1st American gig. The lead singer gripped the mic stand in both hands and the guitar players had their hair in their eyes and either white or studded belts. Technically they were good, but I just found myself thinking Northsix through the whole set. They just didn't do anything for me. And the singer also has vocals that you expect to hear on KROCK, to the point that I also started hearing a DJ come on and give the call letters.

Blow Up Hollywood was not what I was expecting from a name like that. Maybe that's why they never gave their name when they got onstage. 7 band members—a cellist, acoustic guitar, 2 electric guitars, a bass, violin, and organ. (Which reminds me, "Magickally Celloriffic" is Rasputina's own slogan. I didn't want anyone to think I came up with that myself.) And they played in the dark. Who the fuck do they think they are? Also there taking pix was this guy I always see at garage rock shows. He was complaining loudly about how much they sucked and it was hard to hear him over the band and I had my earplugs in so I tried not to talk to him in case the band could hear but he kept up his running commentary. Ever since the Arcade Fire, he said, bands have too many members. Yeah, who do they think they are, an Irish punk band? "C'mon, I have 9 other bands to do tonight! I'm falling asleep," he complained. "Take my spot," he offered. "Take my spot, I dare you." So I step forward jokingly, just to get away from his yakking. He was heading to Towers Of London after. "That's the show of the week. Their only local appearance. Don't miss it." Yeah, but I have to get up early Sunday. Blow Up Hollywood are so melancholy and I noticed a guy in the audience singing every word. His mouth was turned down like those hobo clown pictures and he was depressing the hell out of me. At one point he came up front, dropped to one knee, reached his hands to the sky, and yelled "Blow Up Hollywood!" Yeesh. After their set the band played the singer/acoustic guitarist offstage. Who the fuck do they think they are?

By now the place was pretty full. Looker had cards on the merch table with their gigs and pull quotes on the back--"would've been right at home with Salem 66 in the mid-80s" (TONY [and since when did Chuck Eddy write for TONY?]), "reminiscent of Blondie at their best. Seriously!" (You're So Old Street UK), "effortlessly fresh and arresting--more addictive than nose candy!" (the guy who books Pianos). Really now? Well, that answers my standard rhetorical question when faced with such adoration: Who the fuck writes these things? Okay. Musically, they were good--although the bass player couldn't hear herself in the monitor even though she was cranked up to 10 and kept asking the sound guy for more and I'm like, maybe you should turn something down? There's 3 chix and a guy on drums and at least they didn't dress 80s on purpose. One of the guitar players, I didn't care for her vocals but the other girl and the bass player I liked. They had some good songs but didn't remind me of Blondie. Seriously. They sounded like an update of Girl Group sounds, a little Go Go's. A guy had an aside with the bass player and she turned a knob on her amp and that seemed to do the trick and I'm thinking, if even I can figure this shit out then I've been going to too many shows.

Tralala used to be a band called Tight Fit, who I actually did see once at Southpaw. I was thinking it was with the Muffs but now I'm thinking it was with the 5.6.7.8.s. I didn't care for them--Tight Fit, I mean. They were another go go a-go-go band and had coordinating getups and choreographed hipshakes, turns, and struts and I was thinking, Do we really need another band with this sound? It came off as stilted, not to mention acted--and that's coming from someone who's seen Les Sans Culottes and Gaijin A Go Go. If you already have 2 bands that do the sound and look so well, another one (and another one in Brooklyn) feels unnecessary. And a go-go band named Tight Fit? Or any band named Tight Fit? Also on the bill was Wide Right, who I also didn't care for but Christgau does and as usual all crits in the Voice follow Papa Xgau's lead in their praise which makes me think I missed something. Or was tired at the show. But if the delivery was all the same, it doesn't matter what the lyrics are.

So when I started seeing Tralala listed and read that they used to be Tight Fit, I thought, Well, a name like that works for Pit Er Pat. And, I love it when bands read my mind and adjust their act accordingly. I'm glad I passed on their Cakeshop show because that place is terrible to see a show in (but good for a double chocolate brownie, go fig). Tralala is an exuberant, energetic, 7-piece band and too big (memberswise) for Cakeshop. 4 gals shaking hips and tambourines, drummer, guitarer, bassist. Though their first song was "Fired Up" and seemed to set the tone for what to expect, it kinda dissolved (or devolved) into "We're hot young drunk chix on stage, playing CMJ, and our band is the shit" attitudes. Throwing beer cans, waving fistfulls of money (which they claimed they got that night), begging for drinks all night. It was like Les Sans Culottes only younger (and a little immature), better dressed, and non-French.

Since I was so focused on Tralala for that night for the longest and only checked to make sure they were still on the bill for Saturday, I didn't notice there was another band after, at midnight. When they said The Teeth were next, I couldn't believe it. Another band that could be cool. And I'm already there. See, this is what I don't understand about CMJ. There's a few bills where you'd think you know who the headliner is and then there's another band after them. Maybe in the interest of booking as many bands as they could over 4 days, they make it up as they go along and it doesn't matter who goes on after the big-name band because that next one would have no audience. The Teeth are a rock band from Philly and play what I assume is "the Philly sound." Like how there seems to be an LES style or sound. Well, it's like that but from Philly. I assume. I don't know much about the Philly rock scene. And it's the "6th borough." Go fig, indeed.

5 bands for $10. Now that's a different story.

Time Out

Or, How writing a review of the new Suicide Machines album made me a better person. And if not that then a better writer/critic.

The other real problem with CMJ this year is that there's no one band I was really dying to see. Friday was just a prime example of this.

Yeah the Gossip are on the KRS/5RC showcase at the Knit, but it's $12 and the Gossip are going on at 1AM. And it's the Knit and that's a long time to stand around at a venue I don't like for a band I've already seen a few times. Plus, it's a full-venue showcase and the other bands I want to see are at conflicting times and to go to the other floors and back for the Gossip, not to mention the bathroom, I'd lose my spot. The AKAs were supposed to play CBGB, another $12 show. I almost bought the ticket ahead of time--I think there's a small processing fee even though there's no physical tickets in case CBGB is some holy grail of tourist spots. But I wanted to go because it might be the last time I was ever in CBGB. I almost bought a ticket ahead of time--I think there's still a small processing fee thru Ticketweb even though there's no physical ticket. But $12? For one band? Yeah it's CBGB and "a good cause." I wanted to go and I didn't. But as of this past week the CMJ listings didn't have them listed @ CBGB. Well, that makes up my mind. Clap Your Hands Say Yeah @ the Merc. That's $12 and an all-nighter 'cause they're going on at 11 or so. It's not the lateness of the hour but the lateness plus the 5 other bands I'd have to stand thru. Doors were at 7 or so--same thing with Dirty On Purpose on Saturday. That was $15 and they were going on at 11:30, doors at 6:30. !!! I've seen but they're going on at 11:30 @ SOBs and I hate SOBs. !!! is good, but I didn't gasp and get all nervous when I saw the listing. And they're not so good that I'd stand around SOBs all night. Hell, no band really is. On the updated listing, they were on at 1AM.

No, I'm not pussying out on a 4-day CMJ binge. I have work to do. Real work. My review of the Suicide Machines' War Profiteering Is Killing Us All is way overdue. It's really freakin hard to write an album review. I thought it would be so much fun and so easy to do. They handed me the disk and I thought, 500 words on a Suicide Machines album? Okay: This sucks. Lesse, that's 498 more words.

I rarely listen to albums anymore; I always go to shows and even then when I buy an album it's for the band I've seen or am going to see. And if this album sucks (it doesn't) I have to say that and why. Being a sarcastic know-it-all? Easy. Writing a serious album review? Hard. But clips in other mags lead to other clips lead to..... It takes a lot to write an album review. So I won't make fun of Xgau anymore. At least not until his next Consumer Guide.

I flipped through one of the back issues to get an idea of how to write it and found a letter to the editor: fuck punk where's that last Slipknot poster. And that's another thing that got to me. I'll be pissing off the metalheads for covering punk and possibly pissing off the punx--and possibly the band--for writing about their band in a metal mag. But the more I'm listening to the CD the more I want to throw it against the wall because I'm listening to it way too much. And stressing myself over this. I mean, I've heard of the band and that's it. Am I really qualified to write about them? And here I am, all these years since graduating college and I'm back to writing album reviews for free. I didn't get very far, did I? Hey, at least I can say that I made more money as a model than I did in the music world. Whoopdeefreakindoo.

So passing on CMJ gigs for the night bought me a few hours of looking up the lyrics and writing a few sentences and cutting and pasting them back and forth and having my browser freeze on me. The thing about every CMJ show I considered for Friday--even a few bands at Arlene Grocery which was probably $10 up from their usual $7, not to mention taking pix--was that it would be over in time for me to hit Rocky's as well. Yeah, I see Seanchai way too much but at least I know I'm going to see a good band. That's all I ask for in a night out. Besides, that's what CMJ is all about--seeing good bands in New York City. Sometimes you gotta leave your 17-page daily schedule behind to do that.

Magickally Celloriffic

Firebird Band/Rasputina//Maxwell's//9/15/05

Schlepping all the way out to Hoboken on a Thursday night made a lot of sense when I bought the ticket--months ago. Maybe all my CMJing is going to involve a schlep to Maxwell's; last year it was for Presidents of the United States of America. United State of Electronica opened. (Don't be fooled by the name or the shoutout in the Onion's fall music preview. They're neither electronica or buzzworthy. Discuss.) By the time the show actually rolled around it was a different story. I was pissed off all day Wednesday, a real fudge topped with whipped cream topped with caramel syrup day. Thursday morning I felt a little better.

Tix for this show went onsale shortly after their SP show and since I got to SP late (for me) I was standing all the way to the right of the stage. I felt like a total failure as a photographer, writer, and music fan. Then again, I was tired of showing up before 8 for doors to a 9pm show. This time around, I was determined to do better. And last week or so I saw that Rasputina is playing Bowery Ballroom on Halloween. I almost wished I didn't have the Maxwell's tix because the BB show would've been better. But I can't spend $18 for the show.

Even though I was determined to do better this time around, I still went home first in order to sneak in a nap on the subway and not hang out in Hoboken all night. I seriously was considering going straight from work and hanging around until 8 for doors. Plus I didn't want to spend money for dinner. By the time I got there Firebird Band was onstage ready to go.....and I was third back. True, the crowd was probably going to shift around between sets but they could've crowded in better. And at some point during their gloom-pop lite (telling cover: "Love Will Tear Us Apart") the CMJer I wedged myself next to and the guy in the calf-high combat boots and fishnet top under T-shirt left. And I was right in front. But by that point it barely registered.

Goth-cello corset-wearin' Rasputina made us all sit down. "You didn't pay $7 to not see anything." Uh, I paid $12 and now I'm sitting behind the monitor and can't see anything. It's just that Maxwell's is the worst place to see a band like this and of course I didn't realize this until I was at the show. The stage is really low and I started off on my knees but I knew that wouldn't last the whole night and by the time I tried to cross my legs, everyone else had already established themselves and I had my left leg over my right instead of the other way around. A few songs in one girl asked if we could stand because she couldn't feel her legs but Melora said that if they had to sit, why should we not be sitting? It wasn't that bad, on my left I could see Zoe and the drummer and when I craned my neck around the monitor I could see Melora but never all 3 at once as they did their songs about "Mama Was An Opium Smoker," the zodiac, a cover of "Barracuda" and "If your kisses couldn't hold him then your tears won't bring him back." We all stood up for the encore and at least I got some pix. I'd go on Halloween, it's just the money. And if they make us sit down? I still have no idea what my costume is.

When The Going Gets Tough The Tough Go To A Show

Malkovich/Demander/Shellshag//Lit//9/14/05

One of the problem with CMJ this year, aside from why are good bands not playing and crappy ones flourishing, is that I also found out what that Devendra Banhart dude looks like. Yeesh. I thought I had it pretty much figured out what shows I was going to but at the last minute decided to go to Lit instead of the Continental because I go to the Continental a lot as it is and one of the bands I wanted to see, I couldn't tell if they were still on the bill. I went by the CMJ guide, not the venue listings or website. And besides, there were no cover charges listed and last year a CMJ show @ Continental was $10 and the show @ Lit was $7. Also, in addition to not having a trendy DKNY cord for my CMJ placard and map, I also didn't get a MySpace canvas tote. MySpace—A place for music. And what's Hollow Sidewalks, a place for investment bankers?

I was thinking (and hoping) that naming the band Malkovich was some kinda Being John Malkovich reference. Turns out, everybody in the band has the last name of Malkovich. But is it a reference to the movie? Uh, they're from Holland and playing their first gig ever in the US. So either their last names really are Malkovich or something's getting lost in translation. Their bio said they had a Guns N’ Roses twist which, on paper, is a good thing but when your lead singer has shoulder-length hair, a bandana, and a fondness for swaying back and forth a la Axl Rose, it’s a problem. I’d say they’re a garage band except “garage band” usually implies a certain genre other than the screamy metal that is Malkovich. Basement band. Rec room band, or wherever kids go to rehearse and plan to take over the music world.

I usually skip Demander because the chick from the Hissyfits is in this one and that's the reason I almost skipped the show last night. I didn't want to stand around through them until Shellshag came on but I wanted to make it an early night, anyway, and was set to suffer through them. I only saw them once because I had to (they were on some bill, can't remember who) and I didn't care for them but the band I saw last night was nothing like I remember. The Demander I saw last night was a female-fronted/shredding bass player pop rock trio. They were better than I remember and I turned around to look behind me and the place looked packed. Where the hell did all these people come from? How did they hear of Demander? I was thinking the place wouldn't be that packed but it seemed pretty full. And they all left after Demander, probably on to the next show.

Shellshag is a male/female duo--and that's about as easy as describing them gets. Yeah, this is probably why I need a digital camera or shouldn't be doing this until I have money for film developing but I'm still getting started. Guitarist/vocalist Shellhead has a cool polkadotted guitar and a fondness for standing atop amps whilst playing, even pushing a few together to walk on. Percussionist Jen Shag comes out wearing a belt of bells (I've gots'ta get me one of those), bells around her ankles, and drags three cymbals strung together on the floor in front of the stage. Back onstage, she stands behind 3 drums and bashes away. They sound like a minimalist, spastic Aa. Jen was having problems with her vocals and at some points when Shellhead was singing, her sound effects made her look like a fish gasping for water. By the time things were fixed their set was almost done and I wanted them to start over so I could hear everything the right way. The vocals were fixed in time for the haunting song that goes "Everybody is a magnet sometimes" and then changes to "everybody was a magnet/everybody needs a magnet." The set climaxed with Shellhead in the audience playing guitar and carrying Jen off at the end.

I wanted to stay for Chinese Stars, who I saw opening for Mission of Burma in January and were pretty good, but it was getting late and there was another band on next before them. Plus, I could feel the humidity creeping in. If there was A/C, it was on low. There were fans scattered about (and I don't mean music fans) but it wasn't enough. I was starting to feel clammy myself and didn't want to push it and left.

Uh, yeah. I did quit blogging. But if I was so desperate to salvage my "lost post" because losing it entirely meant I'd wasted my time writing it, then quitting the blog means I wasted my time for the past month setting this up. Can't guarantee I won't quit again, but I'll stick with it for now.

The End.

Well, here we are. The start of CMJ. My personal deadline for the site to be ready for the reading/viewing/commenting public. I was in the middle of catch-up over here, getting up to date. And my computer froze. I heard my CDROM drive doing a number on my CDs but I never saved the article I was working on till it was too late. The cursor would not move. I tried prying the CD out. I waited for the computer to catch up with the drive. I let the thing rest. I put in Hit After Hit 'cause that's the first CD I saw that was on an actual record label. I thought that was doing it, y'know how when you put some CDs in the car stereo and the display doesn't come up? I waited for the screen to go dark in cooldown mode, but then worried if my mouse wasn't moving at all, I'd never be able to see what was on the screen. So I wrote down whatever I could see. And then faced facts and did a reboot. And then cried.

But I'm afraid I'll have to face facts and move on. So much for blogging about CMJ. I wanted to do the site because things have to be current in the music world, because I'm sick of seeing the sucky bands flourish, and to give something back to the bands who mean so much to me and who have given me so much. I guess one of the "advantages" of being older is realizing what's a pipedream and what isn't quicker. I mean, come on. Writing a book? I should put my attention on cleaning my place up and getting another job. Screw the blog. Well, at least it only took me a month and a half to realize that this is another half-baked H scheme that isn't getting me anywhere. The reason I can't afford to get all that film developed? I keep buying film and taking pix.

So my computer's a piece of shit. I shouldn't complain; my house isn't under water. I know where my cat is. I can't afford my rent, but as I've been hearing for the past few years, I should be thankful I even have a job. I am, don't get me wrong. It's just that this is the latest in the string of "I can't catch a break." That's it. No more whining, I promise.

Then I was thinking to just go on with the site; it doesn't matter if I'm missing that one post. I'll have others. But I was writing that. I don't know, it's not like I lost everything save for the 1st paragraph. I can paraphrase and it's not that bad. Of course I'd planned to get to bed early last nite because of the week I'm about to have.... There I go again. I don't have to be going to all these shows.

I guess I can't say that I never tried blogging. And today's post was supposed to have the comments on. But here I am committing blogicide and I'd feel like a bigger loser to see 0 comments. Oh well. Can't say I never tried.

Coney Island, Baby

The Great Irish Fair//Drier Offerman Park @ Coney Island//9/10/05

I told myself I was never going to this thing again. Last year I thought the festival was by Stillwell Ave. where they have the Siren and needing to get from the beginning of the R line to the end of the F and not knowing exactly how long that would take, I allowed myself enough time only to find out that the F was only going to King's Hwy so I had to take a bus to Stillwell only to find out that "Coney Island" is bigger than the Boardwalk/Mermaid Parade/Siren Festival area (How awesome would it be to have the Irish Festival in that part of Coney Island and see Black 47 in the shadow of the rides?) and then it was onto another shuttle bus. I was wandering around, trying to kill time, and ended up standing between two tents. I heard "Dirty Old Town" in my left ear and "Whiskey in the Jar" in my right. Or vice versa. Or maybe it was "Wild Rover" and the trad version of "Fields Of Athenrye" (you get the idea) and I thought: Oh my God, I am in hell.

This past March I was stuck in Hoboken for their Annual Alcohol Festival--complete with horns, feather boas, plastic hats, beads, and inflatable dolphins that had shamrocks on them. I guess since all that shwag was green and there were 2-hour waits to get into the bars at noon and public urinating, and it was March, this all had something to do with St. Patrick's Day. (Oh my God, I am in hell.) I bought an Irish flag. Somebody had to. Besides, I've never been a follower. Needless to say that by the time St. Pat's actually rolled around I'd completely had it. As if that wasn't enough, I ended up in one of the worst cases of Subway Hell later that early the next morning.

So, yeah. I told myself I was never going to this thing again. But Seanchai is playing. Oh, yeah. And Black 47. I mean, it's just that I've seen Black 47 at so many of these Irish festivals and they're all the same to me.

First off, though, how awesome does my little flag waver look? That was me at the St. Pat's parade in Hoboken. I didn't get any good pix from the festival last year due to standing on the makeshift flooring that everyone was jumping on so the pix came out kinda blurry. (When will I ever learn? My pix from the So. St. Seaport were always pretty much the same.) I'd been meaning to try to put some smilies on. I started this as a draft and kept signing in and looking at it in preview mode to see them. I wanted to get the clover after the mention of the bands but they kept coming up on the left. Maybe I need to right justify? Eh, I've screwed with my HTML enough. Obviously, I need more happy faces.

But I digress.

I was getting a little excited and felt the pulse of anticipation but I had this sinking feeling that as soon as I got there, I was going to see that it sucked and would be a carbon copy of all the other festivals, which is why I told myself I was never going again. I can't even remember what the bathroom sitch was like last year, so I can only assume it was a nasty porta potty that I've blocked from my memory. I bought bagel chips. I imagine they'd make me have them deep fried. At least the weather is nice.

The night before I was checking show listings and tix for Street Dogs, which were supposed to go onsale last Wednesday and then they said Monday, were going onsale Saturday at noon. Shit! I know--I wasn't that wowed by them when I 1st saw them and I like River City Rebels in theory but I am curious about Brain Failure. Plus the money and all. And since when do I miss a happening? Maybe there's a Kinko's someplace or an Internet cafe. And if it sells out then oh well, I never wanted to go in the first place. And tix for the Briefs onsale Wed!

Anyway, remember when you were in elementary school and took a class trip to the museum and then your homework that night would be to write about the trip and the teacher would always say, "Don't mention the bus ride in?" The ride in was the best part. At least I was excited, thinking that maybe, just maybe, the festival wouldn't be all the same. I mean, it's so nice out so how could it go wrong? I got on the F train wondering if maybe I'd get hit with the inspiration to write a song. And Black 47, whom I haven't seen since March, is playing at 2 and Seanchai is playing at 5 and it's so nice out. When I got on the shuttle bus a member of the Irish Drinking Team (according to his T-shirt) sat across from me.

Still, this is like Thanksgiving dinner with my family only with dirt, fried foods, good music, and people I like. But while looking for all the stages I heard "Belle Of Belfast City," "Black Velvet Band," and then while I was singing along to one, thinking, Now there's one I never hear at these things, I was cringing and trying to recall the title. Oh my God, it's the original to "The Town That I Loved So Well." I've only heard the Devil's Advocates version, never heard the 1st one. The original version is terrible! You're ruining some kickass Celtic punk music, you know that? I hope I don't have a gag reflex the next time I hear it performed correctly. New rule: Never go to these things unless the Devil's Advocates or United 32s are playing. And since I can't imagine they'll ever be asked to play and even if they are I can't imagine they'll accept, I'll never do this again. Aaaah.

I know I've said in the past that if you play a venue with seating people will sit and such was the case with Black 47--yeah, I know it was like 85 degrees in the blazing sun but everyone mostly sat in the bleachers on either side of the stage or behind the wooden dancefloor. So there I was, baking in the sun, trying to support the band and hoping no one would come up to me and bitch that they can't see through me and trying not to feel like an idiot. It's really easy to bring it in a bar, but out in an open field? That's a whole other story. Plus my Zambonis shirt, green and XL as it is, is tight in the sleeves and I was soaked. And the two guys with the professional cameras? Sat on the edge of the dancefloor. Since there was no one really dancing, I hope my pix came out. If not, it's not like I don't know what the band looks like by now.

Thing is, when I was a kid I lived on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. That was my usual. I think this is why I have not eaten a pb&j sandwich since junior high. Though I haven't seen them in 6 months, I may be all Black 47ed out. Maybe it was the wide open field, but there was no connection, not like in a small club. I just wasn't feeling it. So after their set it was eat, piss, head over to see Chris. One truck was selling "fried chocolate ravioli." Three things which, independant of each other, are great but all at once? I can't imagine that.

I also have to guard against getting burnt out with Seanchai (or Sean Chai, as the sign on the tent says) and start taking them for granted. I don't know how I'd be able to cope if that happens. I know it's my fault, that these bands are always here and I always go. They started out strong despite sound problems. Chris said he was wandering around Coney Island looking for the Irish festival. Also, that they were gonna play for hours. I couldn't tell if this was sarcasm but they took a little break after the high point of "Fields Of Athenrye" with a crowd of kids on the dancefloor. I don't know exactly how it started cause it was the break and I wasn't paying attention, but the next thing I know, some piper was onstage and in Rachel's face. They got him offstage and I saw him in the back of the tent, gesticulating angrily and pointing at the stage while a guy tried to calm him down. I was thinking that someone had promised him stage time, unbeknownst to Chris. But he was quoted as saying, "Turn that off! That's not Irish music!" I can only imagine what tomorrow will bring. After the break they were playing to a diminished crowd--last bus out was 8pm.

I was considering going to see Les Sans Culottes after. But the next day was going to be another long one with an early start and lotsa film used. I wanted to go and get that bad taste out of my mouth but I just didn't have it in me. Besides, my sinuses felt all weird, probably due to dust and dirt up my nose. I was thinking I should make myself cry to get it all out.

I wouldn't've had that far to go.

Police & Skeeves

From 50 Pints Of Stout and 40 Shades Of Blue to 40 Ounces. . . .
Cracktoberfest 05 feat: Test Specimen/Rabia/Team Spider/Dr. Know/Mad Conductor/Choking Victim/MDC//Tompkins Square Park//9/11/05

Arright, I admit it. When I first heard that Cracktoberfest was going to be on 9/11 I wondered if that was a good idea. But I like Team Spider and I trust Xris in these matters and I wanted to support him and the show. Also, Simpsons and Family Guy premiere that night.

A last-minute letter went out that morning saying that the Parks Dept. and the Police Dept. denied the permits 48 hrs before the show. One reason was the date. These bands were not the only bands to have a gig in NYC that day. I don't think the police spoke to the Fab Faux about the date for their Webster Hall show and also told them to stop ripping off the Beatles' catalogue and write their own music. And it's not like Xris told them on the 9th that the show was on 9/11. Besides, I don't think the police would've wanted us to go to the protest at the Times HQ instead. They were told to expect a "heavy police presence."

So I made my way down 14th St., past two ragged, dirty teens begging for money because their parents were abducted by aliens and they needed the money for lasers and spaceships (creativity is a plus; I gave 'em money), down Ave. A past a maxi pad stuck to the sidewalk, past a wall that held countless tribute and memorial murals now plastered with ads for Fashion Week, crossed over to the east side of the street and past what looked to be a gold tooth on the ground. (No way was I going to touch it to see if that's what it really was; I doubt it would've been worth much, anyway.) My plan when confronted by this "heavy police presence" was to claim that I had no idea there was a concert going on. Even though I had some padded envelopes I swiped from work for Xris to mail out Cracktober DVDs and some recycled stamps.

When I got over to the show area there was a considerable number of people gathered, and a massive stage complete with scaffolding. I didn't see the "strong police presence." Wow. Man, I thought. We're all a bunch of freedom haters here. There was a merch/donations table with water for $1. Good idea. This year there were tons more people early on as compared to last year. Though I'm glad it wasn't late in the year and freezing, I was melting. The plastic frames of my sunglasses were burning my face and I had sweat in my eyes. I had sunscreen. Yeah, I'm sucha poseur. Sunscreen and earplugs at a hardcore show. But I liked Test Specimen even more this time than I did at Grand Central because of the great sound system. They started a little before 2 and the bands kept it hopping. This has to be one of the quickest set changes at any show I've ever been to. Rabia is Spanish for "angry," we're told. I thought it meant rabid, as in something/someone with rabies. But I guess if you're rabid it could make you act angry. Rabia dedicated their set to Al from Eyes Of Hate.

ZAK was back and all was right with the Team Spider world. The violin really sounded strong this time around or maybe it was because I was standing right in front of Ben, not to mention the sound system. At some point a stage diver bloodied his face. Everybody was yelling for "Bush Bush Bush," some for ZAK to take his clothes off. When they started "Bush Bush Bush" a big circle pit broke out. I was not teary-eyed, sweat was running into my eyes. Same with closing number "Know That I Love You," with everyone yelling that they loved ZAK.

The scaffolding that framed the stage had a big, connecting pipe jutting out horizontally, as well as some round, serrated pully thing and I thought it was an accident waiting to happen. Sure enough, at some point I was pushed right into it and scraped up my bad shoulder. It hurt worse than it looked. But the skinhead with the bloody nose kept at it, stage diving and crowd surfing. Good thing Xris had an actual stage this time.

Brandon Cruz, lead singer for Dr. Know, told us why he sang with the Dead Kennedys, then appologized for it. They were his idols and he was flattered when they asked him aboard. But he realized his ego had gotten the better of him when he saw that the DK were milking it, putting out DVDs and live albums. "The Dead Kennedys live on in your heart, not your pocket." But he cautions us against hating them because "hatred leads to violence and violence leads to death." And of their show at CBGB, for "a millionaire"? They donated their proceeds to hurricane relief. Though Dr. Know were really hardcore but I like Brandon. The squatter Beastie Boys of Mad Conductor were a hip-hop group, I forgot at which point they went on, but they were a nice break from all the punk.

I was still up front and crowded in and the place exploded when Choking Victim started. It was a mob scene; I think there would've been more problems if the show was cancelled at the last minute. I fled. I was feeling the effects of the heat, anyway. Standing toward the back of the crowd and looking at that massive stage, I felt like I was watching a punk rock Summerstage. Choking Victim have a lot of that ska-punk sound that Team Spider does. I really liked them. There was a kid crowd surfing in a canvas mail bin. A lot of people cleared out after Choking Victim. MDC. Uh, it's been known to stand for Mult-Death Corporation, Millions of Dead Children, "My Dinky Cock," as Brandon suggested, More Dead Cops, and Millions of Dead Cops. Yes, there were the tons of conspiracy theories as the TSP911 flyer promised. I was getting really burnt out by the end of the show but picked up as many 40s as I could on the way out. And a smashed funsaver with the film missing. Sad. I have to remember to bring garbage bags to tie onto the fence next year so everybody can use 'em and a box for the merch stand. My hands were getting dirty and I needed to eat--and catch Family Guy--so I headed to Ray's. There was a police car headed up St. Marks. What were they gonna do, arrest people for cleaning up after a show?

At Ray's I had a wait for the bathroom because they had to pry the door open with a huge knife and sweep the water on the floor down the drain and by then I was doing a dance. I get in finally and see that they left the knife on the sink. Yeah, don't fucking tempt me. But their paper towel dispenser now boasts a Blackout Shoppers sticker.

And, yes, I did make it back in time for The Simpsons and Family Guy.

Gratuitous Pussy Shot

I told Marc about the site and he asked me if I'm naked on it. Great--bands ask the guys behind MySpace if they can get them on MTV and I get asked if I'm naked on my website. But I guess if it were women running MySpace they'd get asked the same thing.

Scott said I should Photoshop Marc's face onto some beefcake and tell him, "Well, there's good news and bad news. Good news is there's nudity. Bad news is that it's you."

Aw, that's sweet. You think I can afford Photoshop. No, I know. You meant photoshop as a verb.

I told Scott that I'll photoshop his face onto some beefcake and tell him, "But I thought you were Irish."

I have a feeling I'll get that a lot, about the nudity. So I've decided to head it off at the pass by posting a gratuitous pussy shot.

This is the moment you've all been waiting for, so . . . LOOKIT MY PUSSY.
Not only that, but it's a NAUGHTY PUSSY PICTURE. Yep, that's Oreo crouching amongst fragile tchotchkes on my dresser, where he's not supposed to be. I wanted to get risers for my bed to create storage space but I know he'll just think, "Hey, thanks. Now I don't have to jump so high." Every night he jumps from my bed to the dresser and every morning he's on the bed or the floor. Maybe this is why I'm always tired in the morning. Or it's the terrible hours I keep. He seems immune to my shouts of "Hey! Get offa there!" I want to yell more or swat him one but I'm afraid that would freak him out and he'll jump and break something. Besides, if he's jumping up and getting exercize I don't want to stop that.

Back In Crack

The NY Times had a big feature about Tompkins Square the Sunday before last year's Cracktoberfest. Oddly enough, there was no mention of Halloween. It was like the Sunday Times Election Extravaganza, even though the Sunday before Cracktoberfest was Halloween--that Tuesday being election day. Cracktoberfest 2004 was on 11/6. Anyway, "Bohemia With A Softer Edge" was the title of the feature and the case study was a guy who emigrated from Orchard Street and bought a $960,000 pad--the best thing about it is the "verdant, vibrant park right outside his living room window." Marveled the happy homeowner: "It's like having a huge front yard!"

I didn't think the he'd be too thrilled with a buncha people who would never be able to afford a $960,000 pad, let alone even see $960,000 in their lifetime, having a concert in "his" backyard. I guess it's a good thing that the Times warned him that despite all the gentrification--sorry, the Times called it a "transformation"--"Tompkins Square hasn't totally sacrificed its colorful, counterculture past....gray-bearded hippies sit side by side with Puerto Rican guitar players, anarchists wearing eyeliner, grumpy old chess players, and clapping Hare Krishnas."

Oh, Lord, Cumbaya.

I went to Cracktoberfest for the first time last year and given the way the city had been reacting to large groups of freedom hating anarchists gathered together marching or riding bikes, it was nice to see everybody getting along. As the show wore on I was getting cold and my back was killing me, plus I had to eat and go home and get down to Tribeca for Captured! By Robots, so I left in the middle of Leftover Crack.

Turns out I missed a riot. The Times had this for a headline: Clash At East Village Rock Concert. Dammit, I miss a riot and the Clash. I miss everything. I even missed the "rock concert" while watching all these punk bands.

I don't know what the hell happened to these pix. Was at the Knit for the Groovie Ghoulies/El Vez late show the night before and was tired Sunday, so I might've had the flash on by accident 'cause it's just a reflex for me to put the flash on. Or I forgot to switch it off. On my camera there's a "flash off" setting; simply not activating the flash isn't enough. How much you wanna bet I do the same thing this year? But here's some of the X-Possibles pix from ABC No Rio I'd mentioned earlier, plus from the rest of the day/night:



Team Spider:



Two Man Advantage: (I know what happened with these; not only did I probably leave the flash on by accident I was also getting my ass kicked)


Leftover Crack:


Captured! By Robots at Tribeca Rock Club:

The Learning Curve--Or, DUH!

So I had some time to try to add some photos yesterday, saving them to the desktop and then uploadimg. Today I tried to see if that's how to get a rotated photo up. Bingo. When I first started w/the pix, I was taking the original, unedited ones from the disk and not the edited ones. Maybe this is how to get a cropped photo up. This might make the Obligatory Photo Section unnnecessary. Then again, posts of 20 or so pix from a show might make the site look messy. So we'll see, but this is a start. And if you click on a pic on the site, you'll see the bigger version. I'm sure all this was mentioned in the instructions, but I'm the type of person who doesn't read instructions sometimes because I assume it's over my head then jumps right in and if I can't figure it out, I tell myself I'm stupid and then try to figure it out on my own, sometimes making more work for myself.

I spent too much time yesterday getting frustrated trying to use the Hello program to get fuller-sized photos up before I realized the whole clicking on the posted photos. The cool thing about Hello is that you IM the program with the pix and there's a "robot" who "responds" and then resizes and posts photos. A robot. Problem with that is that it was making a new post for the photo and not putting it in the started post. I'm sitting here thinking, Great. I got the mildly retarded robot. Then again, robots only do what the humans tell them to do (until they overthrow the human and start their own band and hold the human hostage) so if there's anyone here who's mildly retarded, it prolly ain't BloggerBot. Dammit, why can't robots read our mind and then do what we want?

Hey, in 2003 I was an HTML dropout. I registered for a free intro to HTML class at Barnes & Noble University. The only thing you had to buy was the text book, which was HTML for Dummies. There was a new lesson posted Tuesdays and Fridays for the month of May, complete with tests. By the end of the course we were supposed to be able to create basic websites. Problem is, too many shows and not enough me. I aced the first test, which was basically HTML trivia. The next lesson was the application thereof and I bombed. Besides, the Dummies book said you had to write out each code to do the littlest thing but there's tons of shortcuts that we shouldn't be using because we were supposed to learn by doing. Plus, there was this whole "websites aren't my domain" thing to overcome. Like, gee, I wish I had a guy to do all this stuff for me and I'll go to the shows and take the pix. Which is why I've been posting to myself as I learn more. I'm getting there. I think. I hope.