Monday, June 29, 2009
Every New Beginning
As I lay to rest my beloved ibook, I think about all we've been through. A lot has happened in five years. It travelled the country with me, allowed me to put out fires, write gig reports on the road, play speed marbles, make quick playlists, and watch Anchorman in the middle of the night a multitude times. I'll miss the pearly white sheen of its exterior, the feel of its weight under my arm. At least it wasn't a slow, painful demise. We never talked about it, but I think the ibook would have wanted me to move on. I decided to give it a try. I went to this Genius Bar, it was pretty crowded. I hung out there for a bit in the back, it was getting close to closing time, and I met someone. I was filled with anxiety, blacked out, and woke up this morning with an empty wallet and a new macbook pro. I may not leave the house today.
Monday, June 8, 2009
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Monday, June 1, 2009
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Friday, May 29, 2009
Gomez @ Headliners 05.27.09
Once upon a time in Texas a few years ago, I found myself in Austin and ended up at Stubb's to catch the Nickel Creek show. The band playing before them was called Gomez, and I had never heard of them. It was South by Southwest, after all, so it wasn't unusual to have never heard of someone. However, Kyle's slack jawed look of horror told me that I was about to be schooled.
Gomez hails from Southport, England, and released their first album in 1998, and they just released their sixth album a couple of months ago, A New Tide. They are one of those examples of the music industry that make you shake your head; it boggles my mind that these guys aren't more well known and selling out arenas. I guarantee you have heard one of their songs within the past two years either on a tv show or a commercial, as their last album How We Operate was everywhere. I was fortunate enough to catch their set a couple of months ago, again at SXSW this year, and it was just enough to make me really excited about their coming to town.
A Gomez show is impressive from a technological standpoint; I always like to see guys playing the computer, adding blips and bleeps and loops and bass hits (I'm looking at you Airstream Driver). Some iphones made their way to the microphones for some added keys and sonic manipulation. It was also a pretty diverse setlist, spanning the decade all the way back to the first album. The opener, for example, was Revolutionary Kind from 2001's Liquid Skin, and set the tone for the night with it's dreamy dub drive and swaddling groove. Standouts included Win Park Slope, Detroit Swing 66, Airstream Driver, See The World, and actually a number of others. I'm also a sucker for ebow, which made an appearance on Little Pieces. The closing song was a fantastic How We Operate with a retooled intro that allowed a sparse haunting to mesmerize you before kicking into the frantic paranoia of the song. Overall it was a fantastic show that was supported by the city, on a Wednesday night no less, so thanks Louisville for going to Headliners. One quick note about fashion: Gomez is one of the most unassuming, unpretentious bands I've ever seen. At one point I thought that it's funny that these goofballs make such great music. Maybe because it's the kind of guys I normally hang out with anyway.
Gomez hails from Southport, England, and released their first album in 1998, and they just released their sixth album a couple of months ago, A New Tide. They are one of those examples of the music industry that make you shake your head; it boggles my mind that these guys aren't more well known and selling out arenas. I guarantee you have heard one of their songs within the past two years either on a tv show or a commercial, as their last album How We Operate was everywhere. I was fortunate enough to catch their set a couple of months ago, again at SXSW this year, and it was just enough to make me really excited about their coming to town.
A Gomez show is impressive from a technological standpoint; I always like to see guys playing the computer, adding blips and bleeps and loops and bass hits (I'm looking at you Airstream Driver). Some iphones made their way to the microphones for some added keys and sonic manipulation. It was also a pretty diverse setlist, spanning the decade all the way back to the first album. The opener, for example, was Revolutionary Kind from 2001's Liquid Skin, and set the tone for the night with it's dreamy dub drive and swaddling groove. Standouts included Win Park Slope, Detroit Swing 66, Airstream Driver, See The World, and actually a number of others. I'm also a sucker for ebow, which made an appearance on Little Pieces. The closing song was a fantastic How We Operate with a retooled intro that allowed a sparse haunting to mesmerize you before kicking into the frantic paranoia of the song. Overall it was a fantastic show that was supported by the city, on a Wednesday night no less, so thanks Louisville for going to Headliners. One quick note about fashion: Gomez is one of the most unassuming, unpretentious bands I've ever seen. At one point I thought that it's funny that these goofballs make such great music. Maybe because it's the kind of guys I normally hang out with anyway.
Monday, May 4, 2009
The Post Derby Blog
If you have ever spent time in Manhattan, you have probably experienced the unique mix of emotion that usually comes when it's time to leave because you've run out of money and have obligations back home: melancholy, pensiveness, sadness, longing. It's that feeling of having a euphoric time and not wanting it to end. For me, to my tastes, this is very similar to how I feel about the Kentucky Derby, except the exact opposite.
A friend told me a few years ago never to send an email when you're angry or upset; maybe you will feel differently in a few hours or days. Of course this is excellent advice, and was given in response to an "incident" of mine, so we chalked it up to learning. We can assume that this applies to blogs as well, so I gave it some time. For rational analysis. Or to percolate? Simmer? Stew in a crock pot? That's the way this morning has been. Maybe I'm not a Composter, or maybe I don't want to be known as a composting-enthusiast, but I was taking some inside scraps to the temporary-paper-bag-of-compost-until-we-get-a-large-one. This temporary device was looking pretty shabby, especially after the rain, so I decided to transfer it to a more stable temporary device: a dry paper bag. Don't look at me like that. So I stand on the deck, fulfilling some kind of fated Graecian Tragedy, putting one completely soaked-through paper bag of rotting sludge into another. Any normal, sane, awake, caffeinated person would know that the bottom would fall out. Even my half-asleep, uncaffeinated self knew it might happen and to take extra care. Of course it still happened. I don't know how long I stood there. Staring. Sludge. Feet. It was like Jimmy Stewart in Hitchcock's Vertigo, with the spiraling red swirls behind his head, or Uma Therman in Kill Bill, the red background and siren when she encounters her attackers. At some point, I rummaged through the garage, finding an older small plastic can to try and shovel this mess into, when as I pick it up a black widow runs across the handle. It did cross my mind that the police might show up, responding to the screams of what might possibly have been the kidnapping of a 4 year old girl. I don't really know what happened next or how it got cleaned up, as my cerebellum fused. So, it is in this context that I write about the Kentucky Derby.
There are a few good things about the Derby. It is an economic stimulus for the city. It puts Louisville on the map. It's as good an excuse as any to get together with friends and/or family. There's a history involved. If you go, if you like it, if you look forward to it for a full year, then I'm glad it does it for you. Sincerely, I'm glad you enjoy it.
But let's be honest; it's a two minute horse race. They go around a track. That's all.
I think it's the pomp and circumstance, the superficiality, the inflation, the hypocrisy, the waste, and separation of social strata that gets to me. That's actually quite a list. I guess ol' lady justice is tipping heavily to one side at this point. This is a pretty succinct description of what grinds my gears. This is a funny city; I've lived here most of my life. It is strange to me to see the outcome of all of the influences on the city. It kind of all comes down to your view of if Louisville is a Northern City or a Southern City. We have lots of bars. And lots of churches. Both sweet and unsweet tea. Back in the day, Green Street here in our fair city was well known for it's brothels. Changing it's name to Liberty St. can't erase the past. A high Catholic population. A high Baptist population. We hung with the Union in the Civil War (barely). We have our Seelbach Hotel with it's stories of Al Capone and F. Scott Fitzgerald and the Great Gatsby. Most people here also have quite the dialectal drawl. It's quite the mix.
I also think that it's telling that on either side of the twin spires are the hot spots, the exclusive areas. On the west side is the area that includes the Clubhouse Suites, Turf Club, and Millionaires Row. This area is exclusive for people who need to be seen being exclusive. The Turf Club is the white hot end of this, with a grand half-circular staircase and wall of glass to make it easier for the really wealthy to view the absurdly wealthy/famous. On the east side is the Jockey Club Suites, and it is exclusive with the purpose of being exclusive, accessible by one elevator only. This is mainly the successful business/political area.
And then there's the infield. A very safe view from the exclusive areas, encouraged as long as there is a separation via a tunnel, the infield is it's own beast. Most people don't see the poem inscribed on a plaque as you enter the infield:
"Give me your dehydrated, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to drink free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the shirtless, mud covered to me,
I lift my exacta box beside the betting window!"
I also wonder if it's the obsession with celebrity that is setting me off this year. Not even celebrity, I can get that to an extent. It's the celebrities who are known for absolutely no good reason at all. Famous for being famous. Makes my head hurt.
I came home that night and sat down with Hunter S. Thompson's The Kentucky Derby Is Decadent and Depraved. And I didn't even need to read past the title.
A friend told me a few years ago never to send an email when you're angry or upset; maybe you will feel differently in a few hours or days. Of course this is excellent advice, and was given in response to an "incident" of mine, so we chalked it up to learning. We can assume that this applies to blogs as well, so I gave it some time. For rational analysis. Or to percolate? Simmer? Stew in a crock pot? That's the way this morning has been. Maybe I'm not a Composter, or maybe I don't want to be known as a composting-enthusiast, but I was taking some inside scraps to the temporary-paper-bag-of-compost-until-we-get-a-large-one. This temporary device was looking pretty shabby, especially after the rain, so I decided to transfer it to a more stable temporary device: a dry paper bag. Don't look at me like that. So I stand on the deck, fulfilling some kind of fated Graecian Tragedy, putting one completely soaked-through paper bag of rotting sludge into another. Any normal, sane, awake, caffeinated person would know that the bottom would fall out. Even my half-asleep, uncaffeinated self knew it might happen and to take extra care. Of course it still happened. I don't know how long I stood there. Staring. Sludge. Feet. It was like Jimmy Stewart in Hitchcock's Vertigo, with the spiraling red swirls behind his head, or Uma Therman in Kill Bill, the red background and siren when she encounters her attackers. At some point, I rummaged through the garage, finding an older small plastic can to try and shovel this mess into, when as I pick it up a black widow runs across the handle. It did cross my mind that the police might show up, responding to the screams of what might possibly have been the kidnapping of a 4 year old girl. I don't really know what happened next or how it got cleaned up, as my cerebellum fused. So, it is in this context that I write about the Kentucky Derby.
There are a few good things about the Derby. It is an economic stimulus for the city. It puts Louisville on the map. It's as good an excuse as any to get together with friends and/or family. There's a history involved. If you go, if you like it, if you look forward to it for a full year, then I'm glad it does it for you. Sincerely, I'm glad you enjoy it.
But let's be honest; it's a two minute horse race. They go around a track. That's all.
I think it's the pomp and circumstance, the superficiality, the inflation, the hypocrisy, the waste, and separation of social strata that gets to me. That's actually quite a list. I guess ol' lady justice is tipping heavily to one side at this point. This is a pretty succinct description of what grinds my gears. This is a funny city; I've lived here most of my life. It is strange to me to see the outcome of all of the influences on the city. It kind of all comes down to your view of if Louisville is a Northern City or a Southern City. We have lots of bars. And lots of churches. Both sweet and unsweet tea. Back in the day, Green Street here in our fair city was well known for it's brothels. Changing it's name to Liberty St. can't erase the past. A high Catholic population. A high Baptist population. We hung with the Union in the Civil War (barely). We have our Seelbach Hotel with it's stories of Al Capone and F. Scott Fitzgerald and the Great Gatsby. Most people here also have quite the dialectal drawl. It's quite the mix.
I also think that it's telling that on either side of the twin spires are the hot spots, the exclusive areas. On the west side is the area that includes the Clubhouse Suites, Turf Club, and Millionaires Row. This area is exclusive for people who need to be seen being exclusive. The Turf Club is the white hot end of this, with a grand half-circular staircase and wall of glass to make it easier for the really wealthy to view the absurdly wealthy/famous. On the east side is the Jockey Club Suites, and it is exclusive with the purpose of being exclusive, accessible by one elevator only. This is mainly the successful business/political area.
And then there's the infield. A very safe view from the exclusive areas, encouraged as long as there is a separation via a tunnel, the infield is it's own beast. Most people don't see the poem inscribed on a plaque as you enter the infield:
"Give me your dehydrated, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to drink free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the shirtless, mud covered to me,
I lift my exacta box beside the betting window!"
I also wonder if it's the obsession with celebrity that is setting me off this year. Not even celebrity, I can get that to an extent. It's the celebrities who are known for absolutely no good reason at all. Famous for being famous. Makes my head hurt.
I came home that night and sat down with Hunter S. Thompson's The Kentucky Derby Is Decadent and Depraved. And I didn't even need to read past the title.
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Friday, May 1, 2009
Monday, April 20, 2009
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Three tickets
Cold War Kids Ticket
Death Cab Ticket
Parking Ticket
Mental note: decide if Parking is a good band name
Saturday, April 11, 2009
A Night At The Palace: Death Cab For Cutie
Inebriated, they stumbled down the aisle. We heard them well before we saw them, the group of squawkers pulled by inertia and loss of inhibition from the back of the theater to the front, in a herd not unlike a cartoon fight scene, a cloud of arms and legs and elbows and feet. I remember thinking, as they sloshed past our row and doing their best to make out row designation letters, that wherever they sit, they are going to make someone miserable. Now, I have never been given a field sobriety test by the police, but I assume they might employ the widely-assumed-to-the-point-it's-probably-urban-legend nightmare of saying your alphabet backwards. And just as if they were on the side of the road blinded by a police powered flashlight, the concert-goers field sobriety test was spectacularly failed as, after realizing their error in descending row designations, they turned their tasmanian-devil-pigpen-cartoon-fight-cloud around and promptly entered our row.
Transatlanticism was my introduction to Death Cab For Cutie, and it came at the bottom of a stack of seven cds a friend handed me because he thought I might like them. After trudging through the first six cds, I was predisposed to dislike the seventh and lamenting the soon-to-be-loss of a friend. I was doing other things at this point; I was thinking about taxes, composing recipes, finding matches for lonely socks. From the opening half of the first song, The New Year, I decided it may have been a rash decision to excommunicate the poor friend.
The bill at Louisville's Palace Theater consisted of Ra Ra Riot, Cold War Kids, and Death Cab For Cutie. Ra Ra Riot had a fun 25 minute set; the instrumentation changes kept their set lively, as violin, cello, keys, guitar, bass, and drums combined for some intriguing songs. Their songs are a bit difficult to nail down; the pop melodies, perky drums, driving bass, and haunting combination of cello and violin are comparable to washing down a Tylenol PM with an energy drink. I honestly didn't know they were on the bill until I arrived, but look forward to watching their career.
I was able to catch the Cold War Kids set on WFPK's live show earlier in the day. It was the abnormal, subdued set to compliment the evening's animatedly enthusiastic set. I enjoyed both, but the band looked in true form in the evening set, possibly to emphasize that most bands aren't morning people, even if it's at noon. The large stage and sound and lights and capacity crowd bring the best out of most bands anyway. Cold War Kids are also a fun band; this four piece from California stands out for the bright tenor of the vocals, the pushing of a melody to the top of the singers range, the most decidedly west coast guitar tone (bottled right on the beach), and very solid and tasteful rhythm of drums and bass.
It was during the final band changeover that it happened.
At the conclusion of the Cold War Kids' set, it was the last chance for all restroom breaks, leg stretches, and drink procurement before Death Cab For Cutie took the stage. At various times during the first two acts, the group of people to my left were the recipients of icy-black stares of death, throat clearings, exasperated dramatic sighs, and actual verbal confrontation. The constant high volume talking, laughing, giggling and foolishness would ebb and return, frustrating those in the vicinity to distraction. In light of this, in apprehension of being unable to enjoy the headliner's set, we sat waiting for Death Cab to take the stage, when I noticed a young man four seats to my left, elbows on knees, fists on cheeks, spit into the floor. I was appalled. It was shocking. I then noticed the sharp contractions in his abdomen, the reflex and suppression in his neck, the elevation of his shoulders. Red Flags! Air Raid Siren! He promptly began to empty the contents of his stomach onto the floor. His friends didn't know how to handle this situation; "Alex, Alex, just go to the bathroom!" Oh, poor, poor Alex began to rise and lean left to make his way out of the row, but the alcohol was at this point wreaking havoc on his inner ear. He tipped backward. Someday, his friends will learn about trust falls, but as of now, they were still in that embarrassed shame of shock. Alex continued his backward descent and, in a Krameresque pratfall, landed squarely on the recently discharged contents of his own stomach. The row cleared, Alex and his friends dashed to avoid the proverbial cops at the underage party. The poor usher showed up with a 6 inch broom and dustbin. Some kind of cleaning happened, some kind of chemical applied, people (excluding friends of Alex) returned to their seats, leaving the less than desirable smell of a bar at 10 in the morning. Honestly, this was probably the best thing that could have happened, because they never came back. Off with the horns, on with the show.
Death Cab For Cutie takes the stage in an unassuming manner, recognizing the crowd that allows them to stand where they stand, to connect where they straddle the fence between indie band and major label artist. And somehow, they seem to do it. Listening to their latest full length album, Narrow Stairs, it's not the sound of settling by any means. I mean, an eight minute song, the first five minutes or so instrumental, about a letter written by a stalker? The album is textured but not overproduced; clever, but not pompous. What struck me about the live show was how energetic the svelte Mr. Gibbard and company are live, and the complete representation of the band's discography, and how well that mix flowed. Here's the set list:
Cath...
Your Heart Is An Empty Room
The New Year
Why You'd Want To Live Here
Crooked Teeth
My Mirror Speaks
Grapevine Fires
Title Track
Soul Meets Body
I Will Follow You Into The Dark
I Will Possess Your Heart
Little Bribes
Title and Registration
A Movie Script Ending
Long Division
The Sound of Settling
Marching Bands of Manhattan
----
Summer Skin
Company Calls
Transatlanticism
A final note: I have been in uncomfortably loud environments before, more than my share. Either my hearing has been entirely shot, which I don't think is the case, or this was one of the most comfortable and enjoyable volumes of a concert I've ever been to. All except for the insatiably rabid crowd escalating to a crescendo for the encore. That is truly one of the loudest experiences of my life. Louisville apparently loves Death Cab For Cutie.
Transatlanticism was my introduction to Death Cab For Cutie, and it came at the bottom of a stack of seven cds a friend handed me because he thought I might like them. After trudging through the first six cds, I was predisposed to dislike the seventh and lamenting the soon-to-be-loss of a friend. I was doing other things at this point; I was thinking about taxes, composing recipes, finding matches for lonely socks. From the opening half of the first song, The New Year, I decided it may have been a rash decision to excommunicate the poor friend.
The bill at Louisville's Palace Theater consisted of Ra Ra Riot, Cold War Kids, and Death Cab For Cutie. Ra Ra Riot had a fun 25 minute set; the instrumentation changes kept their set lively, as violin, cello, keys, guitar, bass, and drums combined for some intriguing songs. Their songs are a bit difficult to nail down; the pop melodies, perky drums, driving bass, and haunting combination of cello and violin are comparable to washing down a Tylenol PM with an energy drink. I honestly didn't know they were on the bill until I arrived, but look forward to watching their career.
I was able to catch the Cold War Kids set on WFPK's live show earlier in the day. It was the abnormal, subdued set to compliment the evening's animatedly enthusiastic set. I enjoyed both, but the band looked in true form in the evening set, possibly to emphasize that most bands aren't morning people, even if it's at noon. The large stage and sound and lights and capacity crowd bring the best out of most bands anyway. Cold War Kids are also a fun band; this four piece from California stands out for the bright tenor of the vocals, the pushing of a melody to the top of the singers range, the most decidedly west coast guitar tone (bottled right on the beach), and very solid and tasteful rhythm of drums and bass.
It was during the final band changeover that it happened.
At the conclusion of the Cold War Kids' set, it was the last chance for all restroom breaks, leg stretches, and drink procurement before Death Cab For Cutie took the stage. At various times during the first two acts, the group of people to my left were the recipients of icy-black stares of death, throat clearings, exasperated dramatic sighs, and actual verbal confrontation. The constant high volume talking, laughing, giggling and foolishness would ebb and return, frustrating those in the vicinity to distraction. In light of this, in apprehension of being unable to enjoy the headliner's set, we sat waiting for Death Cab to take the stage, when I noticed a young man four seats to my left, elbows on knees, fists on cheeks, spit into the floor. I was appalled. It was shocking. I then noticed the sharp contractions in his abdomen, the reflex and suppression in his neck, the elevation of his shoulders. Red Flags! Air Raid Siren! He promptly began to empty the contents of his stomach onto the floor. His friends didn't know how to handle this situation; "Alex, Alex, just go to the bathroom!" Oh, poor, poor Alex began to rise and lean left to make his way out of the row, but the alcohol was at this point wreaking havoc on his inner ear. He tipped backward. Someday, his friends will learn about trust falls, but as of now, they were still in that embarrassed shame of shock. Alex continued his backward descent and, in a Krameresque pratfall, landed squarely on the recently discharged contents of his own stomach. The row cleared, Alex and his friends dashed to avoid the proverbial cops at the underage party. The poor usher showed up with a 6 inch broom and dustbin. Some kind of cleaning happened, some kind of chemical applied, people (excluding friends of Alex) returned to their seats, leaving the less than desirable smell of a bar at 10 in the morning. Honestly, this was probably the best thing that could have happened, because they never came back. Off with the horns, on with the show.
Death Cab For Cutie takes the stage in an unassuming manner, recognizing the crowd that allows them to stand where they stand, to connect where they straddle the fence between indie band and major label artist. And somehow, they seem to do it. Listening to their latest full length album, Narrow Stairs, it's not the sound of settling by any means. I mean, an eight minute song, the first five minutes or so instrumental, about a letter written by a stalker? The album is textured but not overproduced; clever, but not pompous. What struck me about the live show was how energetic the svelte Mr. Gibbard and company are live, and the complete representation of the band's discography, and how well that mix flowed. Here's the set list:
Cath...
Your Heart Is An Empty Room
The New Year
Why You'd Want To Live Here
Crooked Teeth
My Mirror Speaks
Grapevine Fires
Title Track
Soul Meets Body
I Will Follow You Into The Dark
I Will Possess Your Heart
Little Bribes
Title and Registration
A Movie Script Ending
Long Division
The Sound of Settling
Marching Bands of Manhattan
----
Summer Skin
Company Calls
Transatlanticism
A final note: I have been in uncomfortably loud environments before, more than my share. Either my hearing has been entirely shot, which I don't think is the case, or this was one of the most comfortable and enjoyable volumes of a concert I've ever been to. All except for the insatiably rabid crowd escalating to a crescendo for the encore. That is truly one of the loudest experiences of my life. Louisville apparently loves Death Cab For Cutie.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Cold War Kids
In Studio 91.9 WFPK 04.10.09
Opening for Death Cab For Cutie tonight at The Palace Theater, Louisville KY
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Je Recommande!
We hold these truths to be self-evident, that innovation thrives no matter the economic climate, that interesting things are all around us, that we are often so busy or so overloaded that we miss the incredible. I realized a few days ago that I have recently come across some amazing things that I'd like to take a moment to recommend. I have, sadly, in no way been paid or received any kind of gifts from any of the following:
1. Roku
The Roku digital video player is this little black box that you can buy for $99. It plugs into the wall for power. It attaches to your internet connection for your netflix account. It plugs into your tv for your viewing pleasure. You may then watch any movie in your netflix instant viewing queue on your tv. Immediately. It's amazing. It seriously blows my mind every time I watch something. It's like going to the video store to rent a movie. Except instead of going you stay on your couch, and instead of walking up and down rows of terrible movies to choose from, you press a button to select from the movies you have already flagged that you want to see, and instead of picking the movie and walking to the counter and waiting in line and paying, it's included as part of your netflix account at no additional charge, and instead of walking back to the car and driving home, you press play. And they have just included Amazon.com's rentable selection, just in case you need to see that special movie, and spend those couple of bucks.
2. Simplify Media
I was turned on to this product by Charles on our drive to Austin. A fourteen hour car drive goes a lot faster when you can remotely access every song on your home computer from the car. Simplify Media is a download for your home computer that allows you to use an app for the iphone to connect to your home computer to listen to any song you have. As if this weren't enough, you are also able to share libraries with up to thirty other people. Thirty other music libraries you can access. I can't begin to describe how immediate this makes any musical inkling imaginable. This can all be filed under The World At Your Fingers.
3. Net News Wire
NetNewsWire is a fantastic RSS reader, one that I've been using for a few years now. All the websites that I choose to keep tabs on in a format that is so efficient it makes me weep. Allow me to go through a list of a few of the feeds I have in mine: New York Times, Freakonomics, Digg, UrbanMonk, BoingBoing, HuffingtonPost, Politico, Daily Intel, Slashdot, Gizmodo, Gawker, Slate, Reason, Wired.
4. Brandon Bird
I have no idea how I stumbled across this website, but these paintings and drawings are so amazingly fantastic and surreal that I have to share. I mean, Christopher Walken in the basement drinking a Tab building a robot with a C3P0 body and Optimus Prime head!?! David Schwimmer swimming in a pool doing noodle exercises with the elderly!?! Bea Arthur of Golden Girls fame wrestling (and winning) velociraptors!?!
You're welcome. And if you receive a Christmas Card from me this year with Mr. T on it, sorry for spoiling the surprise early.
b
1. Roku
The Roku digital video player is this little black box that you can buy for $99. It plugs into the wall for power. It attaches to your internet connection for your netflix account. It plugs into your tv for your viewing pleasure. You may then watch any movie in your netflix instant viewing queue on your tv. Immediately. It's amazing. It seriously blows my mind every time I watch something. It's like going to the video store to rent a movie. Except instead of going you stay on your couch, and instead of walking up and down rows of terrible movies to choose from, you press a button to select from the movies you have already flagged that you want to see, and instead of picking the movie and walking to the counter and waiting in line and paying, it's included as part of your netflix account at no additional charge, and instead of walking back to the car and driving home, you press play. And they have just included Amazon.com's rentable selection, just in case you need to see that special movie, and spend those couple of bucks.
2. Simplify Media
I was turned on to this product by Charles on our drive to Austin. A fourteen hour car drive goes a lot faster when you can remotely access every song on your home computer from the car. Simplify Media is a download for your home computer that allows you to use an app for the iphone to connect to your home computer to listen to any song you have. As if this weren't enough, you are also able to share libraries with up to thirty other people. Thirty other music libraries you can access. I can't begin to describe how immediate this makes any musical inkling imaginable. This can all be filed under The World At Your Fingers.
3. Net News Wire
NetNewsWire is a fantastic RSS reader, one that I've been using for a few years now. All the websites that I choose to keep tabs on in a format that is so efficient it makes me weep. Allow me to go through a list of a few of the feeds I have in mine: New York Times, Freakonomics, Digg, UrbanMonk, BoingBoing, HuffingtonPost, Politico, Daily Intel, Slashdot, Gizmodo, Gawker, Slate, Reason, Wired.
4. Brandon Bird
I have no idea how I stumbled across this website, but these paintings and drawings are so amazingly fantastic and surreal that I have to share. I mean, Christopher Walken in the basement drinking a Tab building a robot with a C3P0 body and Optimus Prime head!?! David Schwimmer swimming in a pool doing noodle exercises with the elderly!?! Bea Arthur of Golden Girls fame wrestling (and winning) velociraptors!?!
You're welcome. And if you receive a Christmas Card from me this year with Mr. T on it, sorry for spoiling the surprise early.
b
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Monday, March 30, 2009
Monday, March 23, 2009
SXSW Day Three
South by Southwest means different things to different people; publicity firms looking to expand business; bands looking to expand their fan base; record labels looking to expand their band roster; businesses looking to expand their publicity. Most people are looking to expand their experience, notoriety, and contacts. I just wanted to hear some music.
I was here a couple of years ago with the muckrakers; we had three shows, two of which went extremely well. It’s the contrasts that are standing out to me now, the much lower percentage of heavier bands and the larger numbers of electropop bands. There are more female led bands this year, more americana bands, and many more tight jeans.
Today began with the same gorgeous weather we’ve had the entire time here, and the short drive down 1st St. is one of peaceful anticipation, often accompanied by the Beastie Boys or AC/DC, which seems entirely appropriate. After a brief walk down 6th St., I arrived at the first show of the day, Wax Fang at the Troubadour, a typical enough venue for the area; a long shotgun style bar with just dingy enough to proclaim authenticity as a local institution. Wax Fang hails from Louisville, KY and got quite the boost opening for My Morning Jacket. This week they have devoted themselves to playing as much as possible, their sets ambitious, powerful, and loud. Wax Fang sounds like a frightening night spent hallucinating in a southern swamp. The crowd is intrigued and mesmerized. Singer Scott Carney plays guitar and theremin like a crazed conductor escaped from an asylum, while the band stays in the groove and rides the wave of the song. A nice spotlight on Louisville’s eccentricities.
A few blocks down the street, we manage to catch the Bitter Wigs, the latest creation of Josh Hawkins, Louisvillian by way of Chicago these days. This three piece doesn’t so much as play their songs as ignite a blowtorch and take it to your face. The Bitter Wigs land in that late 70’s, early 80’s era of punk and AC/DC, the Sex Pistols and Black Sabbath. Not for the faint of heart, this riff-oriented groove machine lets Hawkins wail his tenor with the best of them.
Finding our way down 6th to Red River St., we head in Mohawk and check out the bill. The next band to play is called Peelander-Z. Well, seriously, nobody wants to see a band called Peelander-Z, but we end up talking to some people we know when a Japanese band called Peelander-Z takes the stage, but may also go by the name Might Morphin Acid Trip, or at least that’s my impression since they are dressed in those costumes, with the singer having a shaved head except for his long pigtails that he has let grow and partially dyed blond over black hair. I’m just going to have to post pictures. Peelander-Z is basically an Absurdist Thrash Punk band, introducing songs through broken English and holding up the song title on poster board, which is also the chorus, which they get the crowd to chant at the appropriate times, which is really the only lyrics to the song. They played such hits as Mad Tiger, the ever-popular Ninja High School, and everyone’s sing-along favorite Steak: Medium Rare. They climb speakers, hang from the rafters, get on top of the tents, enter the crowd and jump rope, and generally entertain the pants of the crowd. Their final song, What The Health – SUPER HEALTH! has the band in a groovy thrash metal number as they invite a few members of the crowd onstage to take their instruments and continue the song while they put on Mexican wrestling masks, a bowling pin costume, a huge green afro wig, picking up the drums, taking them into the crowd, and handing out pots and pans for the crowd to bang until the whole thing falls apart like some steampunk ferris wheel. I’m honestly not sure what happened after that. I’m beginning to think it was all a dream. I’m really trying not to make a gonzo reference here, but I feel it pulling me in like a stifled tourette’s tic.
As the absurdist fog of Peelander-Z lifted, we made our way to the Austin Convention Center, where a thick line snaked its’ way all the way around the concourse. Looking for the will call window, we passed the 900 or so people standing there and went to claim our Rolling Stone tickets to see Echo & the Bunnymen. As the first ones in the doors, we walked to the front of the stage where the cameramen were as the crowd filled in behind us. This was not my doing, and I owe a great deal of thanks to Kyle Meredith for the tickets. It was an event that was being filmed for direct tv and was a 42 minute set of their most recognizable songs.
Afterward, we decided that a short walk and a drive through Austin would allow us to collect ourselves and find a relaxing dinner. This turned out to be at the Green Mesquite, a fantastic BBQ place near Auditorium Shores that served me some of the best turkey I’ve ever had, complemented by a fantastic meal with friends. This gave us just enough energy to make it back to 6th St., and the swarming masses of the streets throbbed with life and was motivating enough to make a few passes back and forth and pop in on whatever sounds caught our ears. At some point, we saw Brigid Kaelin sitting in with various musicians playing saw, later entertaining a group of comedians entertaining her by writing her into a television script. Rocky Top! they yelled. She complied and promptly trumped them with a Margaritaville yodel.
In the end, South by Southwest was exactly what I wanted it to be, full of friends and music and good times. I missed a couple of the bands I needed to see, I picked up a couple of Louisville bands that weren’t on my schedule, so maybe in the balance of things, I only have one foot on the lounge chair in the swimming pool. But I won’t miss the big fight either.
b
I was here a couple of years ago with the muckrakers; we had three shows, two of which went extremely well. It’s the contrasts that are standing out to me now, the much lower percentage of heavier bands and the larger numbers of electropop bands. There are more female led bands this year, more americana bands, and many more tight jeans.
Today began with the same gorgeous weather we’ve had the entire time here, and the short drive down 1st St. is one of peaceful anticipation, often accompanied by the Beastie Boys or AC/DC, which seems entirely appropriate. After a brief walk down 6th St., I arrived at the first show of the day, Wax Fang at the Troubadour, a typical enough venue for the area; a long shotgun style bar with just dingy enough to proclaim authenticity as a local institution. Wax Fang hails from Louisville, KY and got quite the boost opening for My Morning Jacket. This week they have devoted themselves to playing as much as possible, their sets ambitious, powerful, and loud. Wax Fang sounds like a frightening night spent hallucinating in a southern swamp. The crowd is intrigued and mesmerized. Singer Scott Carney plays guitar and theremin like a crazed conductor escaped from an asylum, while the band stays in the groove and rides the wave of the song. A nice spotlight on Louisville’s eccentricities.
A few blocks down the street, we manage to catch the Bitter Wigs, the latest creation of Josh Hawkins, Louisvillian by way of Chicago these days. This three piece doesn’t so much as play their songs as ignite a blowtorch and take it to your face. The Bitter Wigs land in that late 70’s, early 80’s era of punk and AC/DC, the Sex Pistols and Black Sabbath. Not for the faint of heart, this riff-oriented groove machine lets Hawkins wail his tenor with the best of them.
Finding our way down 6th to Red River St., we head in Mohawk and check out the bill. The next band to play is called Peelander-Z. Well, seriously, nobody wants to see a band called Peelander-Z, but we end up talking to some people we know when a Japanese band called Peelander-Z takes the stage, but may also go by the name Might Morphin Acid Trip, or at least that’s my impression since they are dressed in those costumes, with the singer having a shaved head except for his long pigtails that he has let grow and partially dyed blond over black hair. I’m just going to have to post pictures. Peelander-Z is basically an Absurdist Thrash Punk band, introducing songs through broken English and holding up the song title on poster board, which is also the chorus, which they get the crowd to chant at the appropriate times, which is really the only lyrics to the song. They played such hits as Mad Tiger, the ever-popular Ninja High School, and everyone’s sing-along favorite Steak: Medium Rare. They climb speakers, hang from the rafters, get on top of the tents, enter the crowd and jump rope, and generally entertain the pants of the crowd. Their final song, What The Health – SUPER HEALTH! has the band in a groovy thrash metal number as they invite a few members of the crowd onstage to take their instruments and continue the song while they put on Mexican wrestling masks, a bowling pin costume, a huge green afro wig, picking up the drums, taking them into the crowd, and handing out pots and pans for the crowd to bang until the whole thing falls apart like some steampunk ferris wheel. I’m honestly not sure what happened after that. I’m beginning to think it was all a dream. I’m really trying not to make a gonzo reference here, but I feel it pulling me in like a stifled tourette’s tic.
As the absurdist fog of Peelander-Z lifted, we made our way to the Austin Convention Center, where a thick line snaked its’ way all the way around the concourse. Looking for the will call window, we passed the 900 or so people standing there and went to claim our Rolling Stone tickets to see Echo & the Bunnymen. As the first ones in the doors, we walked to the front of the stage where the cameramen were as the crowd filled in behind us. This was not my doing, and I owe a great deal of thanks to Kyle Meredith for the tickets. It was an event that was being filmed for direct tv and was a 42 minute set of their most recognizable songs.
Afterward, we decided that a short walk and a drive through Austin would allow us to collect ourselves and find a relaxing dinner. This turned out to be at the Green Mesquite, a fantastic BBQ place near Auditorium Shores that served me some of the best turkey I’ve ever had, complemented by a fantastic meal with friends. This gave us just enough energy to make it back to 6th St., and the swarming masses of the streets throbbed with life and was motivating enough to make a few passes back and forth and pop in on whatever sounds caught our ears. At some point, we saw Brigid Kaelin sitting in with various musicians playing saw, later entertaining a group of comedians entertaining her by writing her into a television script. Rocky Top! they yelled. She complied and promptly trumped them with a Margaritaville yodel.
In the end, South by Southwest was exactly what I wanted it to be, full of friends and music and good times. I missed a couple of the bands I needed to see, I picked up a couple of Louisville bands that weren’t on my schedule, so maybe in the balance of things, I only have one foot on the lounge chair in the swimming pool. But I won’t miss the big fight either.
b
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Austin Convention Center
Pressed against the stage for Echo & the Bunnymen. Thanks to Rolling Stone for passing up the line of 900 and walking first through the door.
SXSW Day Two
When I was a senior in high school, I had an English teacher who included a movie in his class: When We Were Kings. It documents the famous Rumble in the Jungle boxing event in 1974 between the former heavyweight champion Muhammad Ali and the then current heavyweight champion George Foreman. The movie had an influence on me because it illustrated an amazing strategy with boxing (the now famous rope-a-dope) as well as showcasing the style of Muhammad Ali, also known as the Louisville Lip, and made me want to know more about my hometown. It wasn't until recently that Hunter S. Thompson stories became known to me as well, specifically one associated with the Rumble in the Jungle event that he was assigned to cover for Rolling Stone. I'm thinking of this because on the night of the fight, Thompson decided that the event would be a non-story, so he chose to stay nestled in a floating lounge chair at the hotel pool.
The kind, kind folks at LEO asked me to check out a few Louisville based bands here in Austin for SXSW: The Watson Twins had performances last weekend; Broadfield Marchers perform late tonight; Wax Fang perform today at 1 pm. I bring this up because I don't want to be the guy in the floating lounge chair at the hotel pool. I'm here with a few friends, and it was Brigid Kaelin who summed up the experience of this music festival the best: South by Southwest is all about riding the wave and seeing where it takes you. Hopefully today the wave will deliver.
Yesterday was a scorcher, the sun was beating down on my baseball hat. We headed in town and first landed at the Insound party. The day started off well with an impressive duo from Montreal performing their sweet brand of electropop, the Handsome Furs. They prefaced their opener with "This is a song Charles Manson stole from the beatles, we're stealing it back". Kyle got an interview with the singer, Dan, and I took pictures of kyle getting an interview with the singer, Dan. We popped in a few places down the street, stayed for a song, popped in a few more, and settled in to hear the Hold Steady. I have to say that so far, theirs is the most high intensity show I've seen, as well as the most crowded. Their singer, Craig Finn, transforms on stage into an exuberant kid in a candy store, a toddler who revels in all the people that have come to his birthday party to see him, basking in the glory of the crowd and delivering his lines with a playfully passionate intensity. Kyle and I headed down 6th for a brief rest at the Driskill, before rejoining the rest of the group down Congress, where we happened upon Guero's once again. And once again it blew my mind. Quite possibly the best mexican food I've ever had. And I got a picture of Kyle with the framed Death Proof photo montage on their wall I'll post later.
The rest of the evening belongs to Bob. We headed a bit further out to swing by the Saxon Pub to catch Bob Schneider, who is apparently king of Austin. I did not know this going into the night. However, Bob went out of his way to make this fact known. It was an interesting night because this first show was solo, just Bob and his classical acoustic guitar, his keyboard, his loop station. And it was amazing. He has these lines that occasionally knock you over the head, or are delivered so quietly at such low intensity as to be inaudible, only to set up the explosion. This room was packed, these people don't talk while Bob plays, these people eat from the palm of Bob's hand, and I see why. You don't want to miss a thing. It makes you sentimental for all the future treasured moments you will have. When his set was finished, he dropped his guitar, walked out the exit door and got in a car. His next set was a few miles away with a full band at an outdoor show, and elvis had left the building.
Threadgill's is located near Auditorium Shores, Austin's downtown waterfront park area, notable to me as the location where I saw spoon a couple of years ago. It seems an institution unto itself, with a fantastic large outdoor patio and stage setup that are perfect for fresh Spring Austin nights, like this one, that attracts all types, including Rachael Ray, who I can't see without thinking of Bourdain's reference to her freakish Joker-like grin. Schneider's full band tonight included an electric guitar player, drummer, the best female bass player I've ever seen, and the accordion/trumpet player, who provided some of the most amazing trumpet/dance combos/entertainment (often playing accordion as a disney robot animatron). It was about two hours of Bob Schneider pouring his charisma onto the even larger crowd, but this time they weren't quiet and hanging on his every word, he was their Pied Piper, their David Lee Roth circa 1984 (go ahead and jump). He had a couple of songs breaking the 12 minute mark, and on top of his amazing songwriting, he did something I've always wanted to do: end the show with Biz Markie's You Say He's Just a Friend. It's hard to imagine that Day Three can compare, but here's to trying.
b
The kind, kind folks at LEO asked me to check out a few Louisville based bands here in Austin for SXSW: The Watson Twins had performances last weekend; Broadfield Marchers perform late tonight; Wax Fang perform today at 1 pm. I bring this up because I don't want to be the guy in the floating lounge chair at the hotel pool. I'm here with a few friends, and it was Brigid Kaelin who summed up the experience of this music festival the best: South by Southwest is all about riding the wave and seeing where it takes you. Hopefully today the wave will deliver.
Yesterday was a scorcher, the sun was beating down on my baseball hat. We headed in town and first landed at the Insound party. The day started off well with an impressive duo from Montreal performing their sweet brand of electropop, the Handsome Furs. They prefaced their opener with "This is a song Charles Manson stole from the beatles, we're stealing it back". Kyle got an interview with the singer, Dan, and I took pictures of kyle getting an interview with the singer, Dan. We popped in a few places down the street, stayed for a song, popped in a few more, and settled in to hear the Hold Steady. I have to say that so far, theirs is the most high intensity show I've seen, as well as the most crowded. Their singer, Craig Finn, transforms on stage into an exuberant kid in a candy store, a toddler who revels in all the people that have come to his birthday party to see him, basking in the glory of the crowd and delivering his lines with a playfully passionate intensity. Kyle and I headed down 6th for a brief rest at the Driskill, before rejoining the rest of the group down Congress, where we happened upon Guero's once again. And once again it blew my mind. Quite possibly the best mexican food I've ever had. And I got a picture of Kyle with the framed Death Proof photo montage on their wall I'll post later.
The rest of the evening belongs to Bob. We headed a bit further out to swing by the Saxon Pub to catch Bob Schneider, who is apparently king of Austin. I did not know this going into the night. However, Bob went out of his way to make this fact known. It was an interesting night because this first show was solo, just Bob and his classical acoustic guitar, his keyboard, his loop station. And it was amazing. He has these lines that occasionally knock you over the head, or are delivered so quietly at such low intensity as to be inaudible, only to set up the explosion. This room was packed, these people don't talk while Bob plays, these people eat from the palm of Bob's hand, and I see why. You don't want to miss a thing. It makes you sentimental for all the future treasured moments you will have. When his set was finished, he dropped his guitar, walked out the exit door and got in a car. His next set was a few miles away with a full band at an outdoor show, and elvis had left the building.
Threadgill's is located near Auditorium Shores, Austin's downtown waterfront park area, notable to me as the location where I saw spoon a couple of years ago. It seems an institution unto itself, with a fantastic large outdoor patio and stage setup that are perfect for fresh Spring Austin nights, like this one, that attracts all types, including Rachael Ray, who I can't see without thinking of Bourdain's reference to her freakish Joker-like grin. Schneider's full band tonight included an electric guitar player, drummer, the best female bass player I've ever seen, and the accordion/trumpet player, who provided some of the most amazing trumpet/dance combos/entertainment (often playing accordion as a disney robot animatron). It was about two hours of Bob Schneider pouring his charisma onto the even larger crowd, but this time they weren't quiet and hanging on his every word, he was their Pied Piper, their David Lee Roth circa 1984 (go ahead and jump). He had a couple of songs breaking the 12 minute mark, and on top of his amazing songwriting, he did something I've always wanted to do: end the show with Biz Markie's You Say He's Just a Friend. It's hard to imagine that Day Three can compare, but here's to trying.
b
Apologies
I'm looking at my notes for the day and there's no way I'm going to try to put them in any sort of narrative form tonight. It's been a great long day, lots to report. Tomorrow.
b
b
Friday, March 20, 2009
SXSW Day One
For the record, fifteen hours in a car is just too long, no matter what. Discomfort turns into exhaustion, which turns into delirium, which turns into hallucinations. Long story short: We Arrived.
I've been in the music industry for a while now, and in many ways I am jaded. I am not, however, jaded enough to not fall under the spell of Austin. It's a fantastic place that is best described as eccentric; it still retains its own identity in the midst of the very large and loaded-with-preconceived-notions state of Texas. During the music festival known as South by Southwest, every available room, space, vestibule, or cubicle is taken over by organizations (record labels, booking agencies, magazines, radio stations) and packed from open until close with bands from all parts of the world, usually in blocks of 45 minutes. Spring has sprung here, and it's absolutely fantastic weather. We arrived last night 4:30-ish, caught a few hours sleep and headed downtown: streets are closed, everybody's out and about as music bleeds from one venue into the next. We found our way to the New West Party at Club de Ville and really enjoyed Tim Easton's set. To make this even better, they had a great set up providing small plates of cooked chicken tortillas (pictures provided). Corb Lund followed, and had the fantastic and notable line "Good Copenhagen is better than bad cocaine". We took off for a bit and walked down 6th St., making our way through the crowds, dodging the music bleed, and noting the lengthy lines to get into the more popular places, not unlike the long lines at an amusement park that you decide can't possibly be worth waiting in. Took a break in the Driskell Hotel before heading out again to catch the Gary Louris / Mark Olsen set. It's been a long time since I've seen the Jayhawks in any formation, and it was great to hear them.
A few blocks away we were trying to check out the Hold Steady show, but not only was the club packed wall to wall, there was a line around the block waiting. Headed to the Alternative Press party at 5th & Congress, which turned out to be a DJ party on the roof of a building. While beautiful and full to capacity and definitely a hip an happening place, it was chest-thumping-ly and ear splitting-ly loud. On the sidewalk outside, we found a few options down Congress across the river. After walking 17 blocks or so, we ended up in front of Guero's, and the answer presented itself.
The goal of the night at this point was to make it to Stubb's to see http://www.gomeztheband.com/. As we got in line, security informed us and everyone behind us that they were sold out and that we would not be able to get in. Unless we wanted to wait a bit, then maybe we could. Well, ok. We hung out a bit in line, moved forward and they eventually let us and a few of those behind us in, and it was definitely the payoff of the night. Stubbs was packed and gomez was fantastic (if you are unfamiliar, start with How We Operate) and I'm really looking forward to their new album coming out at the end of this month.
Being on our feet all day has finally taken its toll, so to rest we go. Tomorrow will be another fun filled day. Unfortunately, the wireless networks are severly taxed down here and I am for the most part unable to do any kind of serious writing or updating during the day, apart from the twitter type status updates. With that in mind, you will be able to find out what's going on with us throughout the day in 140 characters or less at twitter.com/bsm1
b
I've been in the music industry for a while now, and in many ways I am jaded. I am not, however, jaded enough to not fall under the spell of Austin. It's a fantastic place that is best described as eccentric; it still retains its own identity in the midst of the very large and loaded-with-preconceived-notions state of Texas. During the music festival known as South by Southwest, every available room, space, vestibule, or cubicle is taken over by organizations (record labels, booking agencies, magazines, radio stations) and packed from open until close with bands from all parts of the world, usually in blocks of 45 minutes. Spring has sprung here, and it's absolutely fantastic weather. We arrived last night 4:30-ish, caught a few hours sleep and headed downtown: streets are closed, everybody's out and about as music bleeds from one venue into the next. We found our way to the New West Party at Club de Ville and really enjoyed Tim Easton's set. To make this even better, they had a great set up providing small plates of cooked chicken tortillas (pictures provided). Corb Lund followed, and had the fantastic and notable line "Good Copenhagen is better than bad cocaine". We took off for a bit and walked down 6th St., making our way through the crowds, dodging the music bleed, and noting the lengthy lines to get into the more popular places, not unlike the long lines at an amusement park that you decide can't possibly be worth waiting in. Took a break in the Driskell Hotel before heading out again to catch the Gary Louris / Mark Olsen set. It's been a long time since I've seen the Jayhawks in any formation, and it was great to hear them.
A few blocks away we were trying to check out the Hold Steady show, but not only was the club packed wall to wall, there was a line around the block waiting. Headed to the Alternative Press party at 5th & Congress, which turned out to be a DJ party on the roof of a building. While beautiful and full to capacity and definitely a hip an happening place, it was chest-thumping-ly and ear splitting-ly loud. On the sidewalk outside, we found a few options down Congress across the river. After walking 17 blocks or so, we ended up in front of Guero's, and the answer presented itself.
The goal of the night at this point was to make it to Stubb's to see http://www.gomeztheband.com/. As we got in line, security informed us and everyone behind us that they were sold out and that we would not be able to get in. Unless we wanted to wait a bit, then maybe we could. Well, ok. We hung out a bit in line, moved forward and they eventually let us and a few of those behind us in, and it was definitely the payoff of the night. Stubbs was packed and gomez was fantastic (if you are unfamiliar, start with How We Operate) and I'm really looking forward to their new album coming out at the end of this month.
Being on our feet all day has finally taken its toll, so to rest we go. Tomorrow will be another fun filled day. Unfortunately, the wireless networks are severly taxed down here and I am for the most part unable to do any kind of serious writing or updating during the day, apart from the twitter type status updates. With that in mind, you will be able to find out what's going on with us throughout the day in 140 characters or less at twitter.com/bsm1
b
Thursday, March 19, 2009
The Way to Eat in Austin
First stop of the day, New West party, enjoyed the Tim Easton set, and thoroughly enjoyed the guys prepping the incredible food. Hoping to catch the Mark Olsen/Gary Louris set at 4
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Hours in a Car
I'm estimating 14 hours will be the final travel time from Louisville to Austin. We are currently 9 hrs in, passing through Little Rock. 4 guys in a car, music, talk, reading, talk, music. Listened to License to Ill, Mitch Hedberg, Kyle was dj for a bit, rem now. It's going to be a long and late night.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Whiplash
That whole thing about the spring in my step, well, I take it back. This city is famous for its' whiplash weather, its' neck breaking, wardrobe testing, inducing-weathermen-to-a-fever-pitch, capable of jumping or dropping thirty degrees in a single evening weather. And sometimes, it's just too much. I mean seriously, like when you didn't even know it, but you're ready for spring, and then spring comes (Tuesday) and then it's gone (Wednesday), and it drives you mad. Now, let me gather some perspective. I like Louisville, I like that we get to experience all four seasons here, and they are each gorgeous. The change in the smell of the air from winter to spring, from summer to fall is enough for me to get through the dog days of summer and the power failures and incompetent drivers of winter. I realized Tuesday night that I welcomed spring with open arms, to sit outside on a deck and feel the breeze and see the moon and smell the smells of spring and growth. And when I woke up Wednesday morning, I felt robbed. You see, one of the best things for me about winter is pockets. I love wearing jackets and long pants and having pockets full of all the things that you might need; wallets, phones, swiss army knives, money, earphones, flashlights, gloves, toboggans. The massive head fake of letting this go and moving to a jacketless, shorts driven climate and then jumping back is enough to induce grandma "spells". You know, "I'm just having one of my spells". Yeah, me too.
I'm hoping for good weather in Austin this upcoming week, but I can't check it yet because if it's less than stellar, I don't know if I could handle that right now. I've been listening to the sxsw music player to get a feel for and find some standouts that I want to make a priority. There are a few Louisville bands I need to check out: Broadfield Marchers, Watson Twins, & Wax Fang, as well as an old friend of mine Josh Hawkins from Chicago will be there. Kyle's radio show has been interesting because most of what he's been playing are inadvertently bands that will be at sxsw. As for today, it's a day that lacks motivation, or more accurately, sucks the motivation out of you and makes you either clean the house or watch dvd's. And today, I had forgotten how great season 2 of Alias was (thanks rob).
b
I'm hoping for good weather in Austin this upcoming week, but I can't check it yet because if it's less than stellar, I don't know if I could handle that right now. I've been listening to the sxsw music player to get a feel for and find some standouts that I want to make a priority. There are a few Louisville bands I need to check out: Broadfield Marchers, Watson Twins, & Wax Fang, as well as an old friend of mine Josh Hawkins from Chicago will be there. Kyle's radio show has been interesting because most of what he's been playing are inadvertently bands that will be at sxsw. As for today, it's a day that lacks motivation, or more accurately, sucks the motivation out of you and makes you either clean the house or watch dvd's. And today, I had forgotten how great season 2 of Alias was (thanks rob).
b
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Spring Drive
I woke up today with a spring in my step. Maybe that overstates. Not like Gene Kelly. More like Groucho Marx. But his was more of a squatted slide. Ok, so today I woke up with a spring in my squatted slide. I had to be out early this morning, and maybe it was the atmosphere, or the sun, or the fresh air, or maybe it was the way WFPK was firing on all cylinders and rocked my 20 minute drive, but it was a great optimistic, full of potential kind of morning. This is possibly only because of the contrast with the first two days of daylight savings. Maybe it takes two days to get over the change.
I'm starting to think more about South by Southwest. I'll be going to Austin TX next week, mainly because I'm feeling like that dry sponge for new music and Austin is a big soapy bucket during the festival. I'm looking forward to going with a few friends, like Kyle (who is doing a fantastic job on the weekly feed at WFPK) and Aaron, mainly because it's been a while since we've had a road trip. That's about 2070 total miles, and Kyle and Aaron have proven to be excellent traveling companions. We'll also be there with Brigid Kaelin, and I look forward to keeping a fairly clean schedule to see what we chance upon. Austin is a fairly small city, and just like you can drive anywhere in Louisville in twenty minutes, in Austin you can walk there in that amount of time. I'll also be covering the festival for the LEO, or they will be linking to the site, or copying to their site or something of that sort. I think what I do will be a combination of twitter-like updates throughout the day along with longer blog type posts. And pictures of meals at Guero's.
b
I'm starting to think more about South by Southwest. I'll be going to Austin TX next week, mainly because I'm feeling like that dry sponge for new music and Austin is a big soapy bucket during the festival. I'm looking forward to going with a few friends, like Kyle (who is doing a fantastic job on the weekly feed at WFPK) and Aaron, mainly because it's been a while since we've had a road trip. That's about 2070 total miles, and Kyle and Aaron have proven to be excellent traveling companions. We'll also be there with Brigid Kaelin, and I look forward to keeping a fairly clean schedule to see what we chance upon. Austin is a fairly small city, and just like you can drive anywhere in Louisville in twenty minutes, in Austin you can walk there in that amount of time. I'll also be covering the festival for the LEO, or they will be linking to the site, or copying to their site or something of that sort. I think what I do will be a combination of twitter-like updates throughout the day along with longer blog type posts. And pictures of meals at Guero's.
b
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Once Upon A Time Called Now
Appreciation is a funny thing. Everyone has different tastes, values different things, and it's interesting to chart your life and see when and how you have changed, and the reasons why. Traveling and touring was a major factor for me, that immediate and transformative infusion of observation, experience, and perspective that changes the way you see the world and the way you see yourself. Fundamental questions about preconceived notions, and the reasons those preconceived notions exist. Fears, phobias, and fatigue combine in the crucible of self-examination and begin to melt away into truly experiencing life and savoring every minute of it.
A few years ago we made our way to Austin TX for South by Southwest, one of the largest music festivals in the US. It's a little over a thousand miles from Louisville to Texas, and that's a lot of hours in a car. We had a great experience, played a few shows, met some people, ate well, walked a lot, went to a few parties, and in general just soaked it up. Caught a few shows: Gomez and Nickel Creek at Stubb's; Spoon on the lawn; Jamie Cullen at the Paste party; ate at Guero's (played there too). I found myself missing the city when Quentin Tarantino's "Death Proof" came out and it was based there (including a scene at Guero's). All that to say that this year I have decided to go back. Stag. No band.
I'm not sure when or how it came about. I haven't been involved with much new music lately, and I missed most of last year due to being in the studio. I kind of feel like a dry musical sponge, and I like the idea of being surrounded by over 1800 bands to choose from. That kind of schedule is no joke. And actually, I think that the idea of not performing, not carrying equipment, not setting up drums, not worrying about attendance and performance and tuning, is extremely appealing. To be able to fully enjoy the experience of it all. It's also a great event to run a live blog from, and a local publication is going to be involved, so you may read about how it's going in multiple places. I don't want to overstate, so I'll post that info in a couple of weeks. I'm looking forward to it, looking forward to the people I'm going with, looking forward to the experience of it, looking forward to savoring every minute of it.
A few years ago we made our way to Austin TX for South by Southwest, one of the largest music festivals in the US. It's a little over a thousand miles from Louisville to Texas, and that's a lot of hours in a car. We had a great experience, played a few shows, met some people, ate well, walked a lot, went to a few parties, and in general just soaked it up. Caught a few shows: Gomez and Nickel Creek at Stubb's; Spoon on the lawn; Jamie Cullen at the Paste party; ate at Guero's (played there too). I found myself missing the city when Quentin Tarantino's "Death Proof" came out and it was based there (including a scene at Guero's). All that to say that this year I have decided to go back. Stag. No band.
I'm not sure when or how it came about. I haven't been involved with much new music lately, and I missed most of last year due to being in the studio. I kind of feel like a dry musical sponge, and I like the idea of being surrounded by over 1800 bands to choose from. That kind of schedule is no joke. And actually, I think that the idea of not performing, not carrying equipment, not setting up drums, not worrying about attendance and performance and tuning, is extremely appealing. To be able to fully enjoy the experience of it all. It's also a great event to run a live blog from, and a local publication is going to be involved, so you may read about how it's going in multiple places. I don't want to overstate, so I'll post that info in a couple of weeks. I'm looking forward to it, looking forward to the people I'm going with, looking forward to the experience of it, looking forward to savoring every minute of it.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Live From Sciatica
Aw, baby, I know it's been a long time, but you know baby, sometimes we just get too busy.
An impressive distance between posts, absolutely, but here we are. Maybe it's just the ample time I have on my hands today.
Yesterday morning, after not running, jumping, climbing trees or lifting television sets over my head, something went "boink" in my lower back. That was apparently what is uncommonly known as the sciatic nerve. Amazingly enough, it's the longest and widest nerve in the body, and when you mess with this bull, you really do get the horns. One might think that being forced to lie around all day is great. Well, so is chocolate icing, but after a while, you long for a grapefruit. So, I fortunately have a few things to occupy myself: a Larry McMurtry book, the David Carradine Kill Bill diary, access to my laptop (thank you hulu) and phone for access to net news wire, a fantastic rss reader. I watched North by Northwest last night, and have the last disc of Season 1 Alias today. Hulu helps with 30 Rock, Daily Show, SNL clips, Family Guy, etc. and I chase that rabbit down the hole as far as you can. Makes me wonder how I ever missed this:
http://www.hulu.com/watch/16771/saturday-night-live-snl-digital-short-iran-so-far
I think I'll just keep updating this post throughout the day. Watch as sanity degrades. Enjoy!
b
Edit 1
That was so funny! Watch how sanity degrades! Rhetorical sarcasm? Self-fulfilling prophecy? Doesn't seem so funny now. I feel like I'd give anything to go to the kitchen and make some hummus. Or take a hot bath. Or go for a run even. Now I can't get the "Iran So Far Away" melody out of my head, like a worm burrowing further and further in. At least it will be a funny insanity. 30 Rock really is a consistently great comedy. Like when Tracy Jordan asks Jack if he likes Phil Collins. His response: "I've got two ears and a heart, don't I? "
I also got sidetracked because I started thinking of the Summer of George. This is the Seinfeld episode where George gets fired from the Yankees, but has three months severance. He basically does nothing at all and in the end slips, hurts his back, and goes tho the hospital, only to have the doctor pronounce that "Your legs have sustained extensive trauma. Apparently, your body was in a state of advanced atrophy, due to a period of extreme inactivity." Hmmmm.
An impressive distance between posts, absolutely, but here we are. Maybe it's just the ample time I have on my hands today.
Yesterday morning, after not running, jumping, climbing trees or lifting television sets over my head, something went "boink" in my lower back. That was apparently what is uncommonly known as the sciatic nerve. Amazingly enough, it's the longest and widest nerve in the body, and when you mess with this bull, you really do get the horns. One might think that being forced to lie around all day is great. Well, so is chocolate icing, but after a while, you long for a grapefruit. So, I fortunately have a few things to occupy myself: a Larry McMurtry book, the David Carradine Kill Bill diary, access to my laptop (thank you hulu) and phone for access to net news wire, a fantastic rss reader. I watched North by Northwest last night, and have the last disc of Season 1 Alias today. Hulu helps with 30 Rock, Daily Show, SNL clips, Family Guy, etc. and I chase that rabbit down the hole as far as you can. Makes me wonder how I ever missed this:
http://www.hulu.com/watch/16771/saturday-night-live-snl-digital-short-iran-so-far
I think I'll just keep updating this post throughout the day. Watch as sanity degrades. Enjoy!
b
Edit 1
That was so funny! Watch how sanity degrades! Rhetorical sarcasm? Self-fulfilling prophecy? Doesn't seem so funny now. I feel like I'd give anything to go to the kitchen and make some hummus. Or take a hot bath. Or go for a run even. Now I can't get the "Iran So Far Away" melody out of my head, like a worm burrowing further and further in. At least it will be a funny insanity. 30 Rock really is a consistently great comedy. Like when Tracy Jordan asks Jack if he likes Phil Collins. His response: "I've got two ears and a heart, don't I? "
I also got sidetracked because I started thinking of the Summer of George. This is the Seinfeld episode where George gets fired from the Yankees, but has three months severance. He basically does nothing at all and in the end slips, hurts his back, and goes tho the hospital, only to have the doctor pronounce that "Your legs have sustained extensive trauma. Apparently, your body was in a state of advanced atrophy, due to a period of extreme inactivity." Hmmmm.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
We Assume Too Much
I act as though tomorrow is guaranteed, completely unconcerned with every contraction of my heart, expansion of my lungs, flow of oxygenated blood to my brain. I don't even consider the possibility that a random accident or illness could irrevocable change my life. It obviously goes without saying that I will have shelter, be able to go the grocery, be able to pay the bills. That I will not be the victim of domestic abuse. That the absence of tragedy is guaranteed. The size of this illusion is astounding. I am continually reminded to be thankful for a home, for love, for friends, for breath. I am reminded of those around us in our city who are without, those we don't think about because they don't directly affects us, that someone else will help them, or even those observers who pour out that extra ounce of judgement and pronounce they shouldn't be in that situation, they should pick themselves up by their bootstraps. I don't even know what bootstraps are. Need is need. Grace is grace. Compassion is compassion. All we have is time and money. Usually not a lot of either. Consider ways that you may enrich someone else's life this season. Even if it's as small as cleaning out your home of clothes you haven't touched in over a year (my garage has 10 huge bags to go out), or canned goods, or volunteering phone lines, deliveries, kitchen duty.
Just before signing the Declaration of Independence, Benjamin Franklin said "We must, indeed, all hang together, or most assuredly we shall all hang separately."
b
United Way
www.metrounitedway.org
Center for Women & Families
www.thecenteronline.org
Dare to Care Food Bank
http://www.daretocare.org/
Habitat for Humanity
www.hfhlouisville.org
Wayside Christian Mission
www.waysidechristianmission.org
Healing Place
www.thehealingplace.org
Dismas Charities
http://www.dismas.com/
Kentucky Harvest
www.kyharvest.com
Christian Social Ministries at Walnut St.
http://www.walnutstreet.org/serve.asp#csm
Safe Place Services YMCA
http://www.ymcalouisville.org
Just before signing the Declaration of Independence, Benjamin Franklin said "We must, indeed, all hang together, or most assuredly we shall all hang separately."
b
United Way
www.metrounitedway.org
Center for Women & Families
www.thecenteronline.org
Dare to Care Food Bank
http://www.daretocare.org/
Habitat for Humanity
www.hfhlouisville.org
Wayside Christian Mission
www.waysidechristianmission.org
Healing Place
www.thehealingplace.org
Dismas Charities
http://www.dismas.com/
Kentucky Harvest
www.kyharvest.com
Christian Social Ministries at Walnut St.
http://www.walnutstreet.org/serve.asp#csm
Safe Place Services YMCA
http://www.ymcalouisville.org
Friday, November 7, 2008
The Hands of the Country
It's an interesting time to be alive. It feels like something is going on in the country. I think it's a wave of possibility reverberating through red and blue states, hitting some areas and people a little harder than others. I tried to buy a copy of the NYT to have a tangible document of the occasion. They were completely sold out across the country, as I'm not original as I thought. On the flip side of that, there's also a lot of negative factors facing the country, mostly dealing with the economic crisis, including the threat of and actual loss of jobs and homes. We have decided, in my house, that since helping others consists of giving money or time, in lieu of buying everyone (excluding children) Christmas presents this year, we will be refocusing that money and time on volunteer work and local charities. Sticking with the category of not as original as I thought, Michelle at Consuming Louisville feels the same way, inspired by President-Elect Barack Obama: "So let us summon a new spirit of patriotism; of service and responsibility where each of us resolves to pitch in and work harder and look after not only ourselves, but each other." Louisville has a lot of organizations that are in place to feed, clothe, and shelter those who are without: Wayside, Kentucky Harvest, Salvation Army. This could mean working in a soup kitchen handing out food, or delivering meals, clothes, kids toys, or anything. It just seems that no one person will make the country better without a change of attitudes and willingness on the part of individuals be the hands of the country.
b
b
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Philosophies of Food While Traveling
We drove to Bowling Green KY yesterday to play for a big outdoor WKU homecoming event across the street from the stadium. The drive there was remarkable for a few reasons: how hard I laughed on the way there in a car full of guys I have arguably spent way too much time with; that it has to be near fall peak, and while mostly beautiful on a near perfect day, it was more notable that most trees were either empty or still green; and also that it is still good to play music.
When you're in a band and travel, room must be made to accommodate different philosophies of food. A tier system is set up in terms of preferences and absolute refusals. Traveling on a limited budget means that meals must be convenient, moderately healthy, and delicious. After years of honing the system, here's how we typically fare:
Morning: Coffee is mandatory. I mean substantial coffee, which excludes hotel coffee. Independent, local option first, although not usually available. Starbucks second. Cracker Barrel or Dunkin Donuts coffee in a pinch, as in none of the others are available. A good everything bagel is as close to mandatory as you can make something without it being mandatory. I've found that bagels are one of the most perfect things in the world that aren't as available or in-demand as one would think. Cream Cheese, Veggie spread, or even with lox. It makes me want to open my own bagel shop and find out what a person who makes bagels is called so I can put it on my business card.
Afternoon or evening: McDonald's was never really an option with our band. On the road, you can't avoid fast food. We at least are as selective as we can be. Chick-fil-a is our go to for comparative health and quality. You really can't beat their chicken sandwich and waffle fries with a Pibb. Except on Sunday. How many times did we make plans to stop a few hundred miles up the road and let our mouths water for hours only to be met with severe disappointment. Too many to count. Makes me want to open up a Chick-fil-a and violate what I'm sure is their franchise agreement not to be open on Sundays. And sell blankets. Panera or Atlanta Bread Co. is an option, as is Jimmy John's and the occasional in-a-pinch Subway. We were fortunate that WKU provided us with Jimmy Johns, my preference being the Beach Club, made up of turkey, provolone, avocado, cucumber, sprouts, lettuce, tomato, & mayo. Some got a cookie. I did not that a cookie was optional, therefore I was cookieless.
We don't normally do big dinners. The occasional University would take us out, and we've had some incredible meals. We just recently went to Artemesia here in Louisville for some discussion. It's located in the East Market art district of town and has such a great feel to it. The standout mind blower of the meal turned out to be one of the appetizers we got, Bruchetta a la Ann, described on the menu as "Toasted Focaccia, Homemade Marinara, Goat Cheese, Kalamata Olives". If you're ever in the area, go if only to indulge in an appetizer. But for now, I'm just trying to figure out where to camp out Tuesday and watch Election Results come in.
b
When you're in a band and travel, room must be made to accommodate different philosophies of food. A tier system is set up in terms of preferences and absolute refusals. Traveling on a limited budget means that meals must be convenient, moderately healthy, and delicious. After years of honing the system, here's how we typically fare:
Morning: Coffee is mandatory. I mean substantial coffee, which excludes hotel coffee. Independent, local option first, although not usually available. Starbucks second. Cracker Barrel or Dunkin Donuts coffee in a pinch, as in none of the others are available. A good everything bagel is as close to mandatory as you can make something without it being mandatory. I've found that bagels are one of the most perfect things in the world that aren't as available or in-demand as one would think. Cream Cheese, Veggie spread, or even with lox. It makes me want to open my own bagel shop and find out what a person who makes bagels is called so I can put it on my business card.
Afternoon or evening: McDonald's was never really an option with our band. On the road, you can't avoid fast food. We at least are as selective as we can be. Chick-fil-a is our go to for comparative health and quality. You really can't beat their chicken sandwich and waffle fries with a Pibb. Except on Sunday. How many times did we make plans to stop a few hundred miles up the road and let our mouths water for hours only to be met with severe disappointment. Too many to count. Makes me want to open up a Chick-fil-a and violate what I'm sure is their franchise agreement not to be open on Sundays. And sell blankets. Panera or Atlanta Bread Co. is an option, as is Jimmy John's and the occasional in-a-pinch Subway. We were fortunate that WKU provided us with Jimmy Johns, my preference being the Beach Club, made up of turkey, provolone, avocado, cucumber, sprouts, lettuce, tomato, & mayo. Some got a cookie. I did not that a cookie was optional, therefore I was cookieless.
We don't normally do big dinners. The occasional University would take us out, and we've had some incredible meals. We just recently went to Artemesia here in Louisville for some discussion. It's located in the East Market art district of town and has such a great feel to it. The standout mind blower of the meal turned out to be one of the appetizers we got, Bruchetta a la Ann, described on the menu as "Toasted Focaccia, Homemade Marinara, Goat Cheese, Kalamata Olives". If you're ever in the area, go if only to indulge in an appetizer. But for now, I'm just trying to figure out where to camp out Tuesday and watch Election Results come in.
b
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Music, The Mind, and Bison
Most days I wake up with a song in my head. I have recently found out this is not true for everyone. It makes me wonder at the complexities of the human mind. I mean, what is it, exactly, that makes Bobby Brown's 1989 Ghostbusters II hit "On Our Own" or Madonna's 1984 song "Borderline"? I don't like it, but I have to be honest. Except that I do like the Bobby Brown song.
Throughout the day, there is always a song in my head. I often have no idea what triggered it, but yesterday I was able to reverse engineer the mechanism that got me from Elvis to Paul Simon to Jerry Lee Lewis to Jim Morrison to George Thorogood. All of these things make me wonder if it applies universally by profession, as if a chef wakes up craving a dish or a meal.
I've had some incredible times recently. One is Havana Rumba, a perpetual provider of comfort, cool, and mouthwatering cuban food. (Note to self: improve alliteration skills). Fricase de Pollo is my go to dish there, with the Cherna a la Parrilla (grilled grouper, rice, black beans, plantains) as a worthy backup. If only they'd bring back the Pollo Ropa Vieja....
One of the fantastic hidden gems of Louisville is Cumberland Brews, on bardstown road in the heart of the highlands. I was a bit early for the evening plans, so I stopped in next door neighbor Ray's Monkey House, a great coffee shop, sat outside with a latte and chugged through a portion of my current book, of which I'm on my final allowable renewal from the Library. It was a beautiful evening, the first nip of fall, and bardstown road is a great place to sit outside and have coffee.
Cumberland Brews is small and quaint, but one reason for its greatness lies in the fact that it has a hidden upstairs, a secret stairway that is as close to a speakeasy entrance that you'll find. Upstairs has four tables and a bar. That's it. I was there to watch the last presidential debate with some friends, and if ever there were a room for small informal gatherings that may or may not include the heat and rhetoric of politics, this is it. My recommendations include Octoberfest brew and the Bison Burger, which I must say, far exceeded my expectations and actually made me desire a burger again. I even took a picture of it with my phone. But it didn't do it justice. Ansel Adams couldn't do it justice.
b
Throughout the day, there is always a song in my head. I often have no idea what triggered it, but yesterday I was able to reverse engineer the mechanism that got me from Elvis to Paul Simon to Jerry Lee Lewis to Jim Morrison to George Thorogood. All of these things make me wonder if it applies universally by profession, as if a chef wakes up craving a dish or a meal.
I've had some incredible times recently. One is Havana Rumba, a perpetual provider of comfort, cool, and mouthwatering cuban food. (Note to self: improve alliteration skills). Fricase de Pollo is my go to dish there, with the Cherna a la Parrilla (grilled grouper, rice, black beans, plantains) as a worthy backup. If only they'd bring back the Pollo Ropa Vieja....
One of the fantastic hidden gems of Louisville is Cumberland Brews, on bardstown road in the heart of the highlands. I was a bit early for the evening plans, so I stopped in next door neighbor Ray's Monkey House, a great coffee shop, sat outside with a latte and chugged through a portion of my current book, of which I'm on my final allowable renewal from the Library. It was a beautiful evening, the first nip of fall, and bardstown road is a great place to sit outside and have coffee.
Cumberland Brews is small and quaint, but one reason for its greatness lies in the fact that it has a hidden upstairs, a secret stairway that is as close to a speakeasy entrance that you'll find. Upstairs has four tables and a bar. That's it. I was there to watch the last presidential debate with some friends, and if ever there were a room for small informal gatherings that may or may not include the heat and rhetoric of politics, this is it. My recommendations include Octoberfest brew and the Bison Burger, which I must say, far exceeded my expectations and actually made me desire a burger again. I even took a picture of it with my phone. But it didn't do it justice. Ansel Adams couldn't do it justice.
b
Saturday, October 18, 2008
More Sincerity Than Nobility
I just thought that was a great line from a book, the context of which is that the character is contrasting himself and his aristocratic relative, stating that the relative is more nobility than sincerity, but he is more sincerity than nobility. It's stuck with me for a few weeks so I thought I'd put it here.
To borrow from Bill Watterson, creator of Calvin & Hobbes, the days are just packed. It's been a blur the last two months working out details for the release of the new album and I think it's catching up to me. Hopefully in the next few days I'll be able to get some decent sleep. It'll be a busy week in Louisville for us, and then on to crafting some fuel efficient travel plans. I don't know if we'll make it much further south than Atlanta, I'm sure the Carolinas will be in play, and we will make good on our intent of hitting the northeast, or at least DC, NY, NJ, Boston, Philly & Chicago. More updates as they arrive.
To borrow from Bill Watterson, creator of Calvin & Hobbes, the days are just packed. It's been a blur the last two months working out details for the release of the new album and I think it's catching up to me. Hopefully in the next few days I'll be able to get some decent sleep. It'll be a busy week in Louisville for us, and then on to crafting some fuel efficient travel plans. I don't know if we'll make it much further south than Atlanta, I'm sure the Carolinas will be in play, and we will make good on our intent of hitting the northeast, or at least DC, NY, NJ, Boston, Philly & Chicago. More updates as they arrive.
Tears and Moments of Profundity
*originally posted on muckrakers blog Sept 9, 2007
I sit now in my kitchen and the waterworks are flowing. Eyes and nose wide open like a broken faucet. I decided today to try my hand at the creation of the perfect French Onion Soup. The main guide is Bourdain's Les Halles book, with a bit of extra guidance from Thomas Keller's Bouchon. As one puts it "French Onion Soup is, unsuprisingly, all about the onions", and right now I am halfway through the cutting of eight large onions. Can you smell me? It's ok, go ahead and say no just to make me feel better, but I'm probably going to have to fumigate my house and not be around anyone for a few days after this is all said and done.
I could be mistaken, but I think that the first time I had the dish was in Manhattan last week. It was odd because I sat down and immediately thought, Yes, That's what I want, when without realizing it, I had nothing to base that decision on. Maybe just the preconscious desire to have me some French Onion Soup. It turned out to be incredible and I remembered seeing it in a book I had, so here I am today.
Last night in the studio, Kyle had stopped by later in the evening, and probably somewhere past one he asked if we had heard the new Silverchair. A large group shaking of the head, and he pulls it up on his computer, plays the video for Straight Line and If You Keep Losing Sleep. Maybe it had been a long day, maybe I was tired and unexpecting something of worth, but it literally blew me away. Stood there with my mouth open, not believing what I was hearing. The strange but fantastic chord changes, the driving rhythm, the singer with a greater vocal range than I realized.
I stated at that point that I couldn't remember ever standing somewhere, watching and listening to something that was truly original and innovative.
I downloaded it this morning and if I have to cry, I might as well have something of this quality to make it better.
Check it out, but now the onions are calling out to be cut.
More to follow as it develops,
b
edit 1, 7:17 pm. Man this stuff takes a long time. I haven't even been able to add the stock yet, as the onions have yet to reduce and caramelize. By the way, Fletch was on tv this morning, which was funny because Rob and I were debating the merits or lack thereof between that movie and the sequel. The former is great, fantastic, hilarious. But Rob made the statement that the sequel was on par with Funny Farm. I immediately lost quite a bit of respect for our favorite front man at that point, since in spite of the title was most certainly not funny.
I'm getting hungry. More soon,
b
edit 2, 8:25 Did I mention this takes a long time? Caramelization has begun. I'm beginning to give up on eating tonight.
edit 3, 8:55 I wish I could import the smell of this, I'm so hungry and it smells sooo good. All ingredients in, being brought to a boil, then simmer for an hour. We'll see.
b
edit 4, 10:20 Soup for me. So good. So good. Happy now. I recommend.
Now go listen to Silverchair, or watch the video. Thanks for indulging me,
bsm
I sit now in my kitchen and the waterworks are flowing. Eyes and nose wide open like a broken faucet. I decided today to try my hand at the creation of the perfect French Onion Soup. The main guide is Bourdain's Les Halles book, with a bit of extra guidance from Thomas Keller's Bouchon. As one puts it "French Onion Soup is, unsuprisingly, all about the onions", and right now I am halfway through the cutting of eight large onions. Can you smell me? It's ok, go ahead and say no just to make me feel better, but I'm probably going to have to fumigate my house and not be around anyone for a few days after this is all said and done.
I could be mistaken, but I think that the first time I had the dish was in Manhattan last week. It was odd because I sat down and immediately thought, Yes, That's what I want, when without realizing it, I had nothing to base that decision on. Maybe just the preconscious desire to have me some French Onion Soup. It turned out to be incredible and I remembered seeing it in a book I had, so here I am today.
Last night in the studio, Kyle had stopped by later in the evening, and probably somewhere past one he asked if we had heard the new Silverchair. A large group shaking of the head, and he pulls it up on his computer, plays the video for Straight Line and If You Keep Losing Sleep. Maybe it had been a long day, maybe I was tired and unexpecting something of worth, but it literally blew me away. Stood there with my mouth open, not believing what I was hearing. The strange but fantastic chord changes, the driving rhythm, the singer with a greater vocal range than I realized.
I stated at that point that I couldn't remember ever standing somewhere, watching and listening to something that was truly original and innovative.
I downloaded it this morning and if I have to cry, I might as well have something of this quality to make it better.
Check it out, but now the onions are calling out to be cut.
More to follow as it develops,
b
edit 1, 7:17 pm. Man this stuff takes a long time. I haven't even been able to add the stock yet, as the onions have yet to reduce and caramelize. By the way, Fletch was on tv this morning, which was funny because Rob and I were debating the merits or lack thereof between that movie and the sequel. The former is great, fantastic, hilarious. But Rob made the statement that the sequel was on par with Funny Farm. I immediately lost quite a bit of respect for our favorite front man at that point, since in spite of the title was most certainly not funny.
I'm getting hungry. More soon,
b
edit 2, 8:25 Did I mention this takes a long time? Caramelization has begun. I'm beginning to give up on eating tonight.
edit 3, 8:55 I wish I could import the smell of this, I'm so hungry and it smells sooo good. All ingredients in, being brought to a boil, then simmer for an hour. We'll see.
b
edit 4, 10:20 Soup for me. So good. So good. Happy now. I recommend.
Now go listen to Silverchair, or watch the video. Thanks for indulging me,
bsm
Mojito
Mojito
So, we went to Mojito (a restaurant here in Louisville) last night, and first of all I must offer congratulations to Fernando. It's actually quite a feat he's pulled off, and I drove home shaking my head that something as silly as food could have been so incredible, or created such an exuberant experience. Havana Rumba was without doubt in my top 3, but I think I really went in with no expectations. We arrived around 8pm Saturday night, I thought it might be a little crowded, since it was the weekend and due to Marty's review, but the place was packed, seriously packed, somewhere around a two and a half hour wait. We sidled up to the bar for a nicely assembled mojito and gin and tonic, a bit clueless as to where to stand for a while. It wasn't too long before we snagged two bar chairs. Looking through the menu, it all looked so good, I decided to try a couple of tapas at the bar. First was the guacamole and chicharritas, which were really good. Light, crispy plantain chips to dip in avocado, lime, cilantro and red onions. Next up was Boniato Frito, sweet potato fries with a sidecar of smoked honey. Smoked honey, you say? Yes,yes,yes and how. This is serious goodness right here. I almost wept. Needless to say: incredible. Trio de hummus next, and they even found a way to infuse an ordinary dish like hummus (garbazo, black bean, and roasted pepper) with some fantastic ingredients and additions.
Let me say a word at this point about the beautiful presentations: from the dish, to the plate on which it's served, to the drink glasses, all very contemporary and just flat out cool. It was somewhere around this point that I realized that my entire dinner was going to happen at the bar, so barkeep! More, more more!
Calamares Fritos were next, and nice calamari though they are, what really set them off was the avocado lime aioli. This was the second time tonight that I actually considered the consequences of lifting the sidecar/dipping cup to my lips. In the interest of decorum I declined, with regret.
Empty plate removed, new beautiful dish arrives, it's like magic. Now landing: croquetas de yuca, a beautiful crab cake in all it's glory, with yet more of the aforementioned avocado lime aioli. You may be no Amazing Kreskin yourself, but I'm sure you won't be suprised that I found the crab cake yet another mouth watering, flavor bursting dish.
At this point, we were squarely tucked in at an hour and a half, completely happy with our good fortune to sit at the bar, and ready for espresso and a dessert, which ended up being the churros con chocolate. I regret to inform you that I only had a very little bit of this excellent dish, as we were sharing and I thought I may lose a digit if I attempted another bite.
So, we laughed, we cried, we talked to Fernando for a minute, as he was just a tiny bit busy, and ate our way through the joys of an otherwise stormy night. Congratulations guys, thanks for a fantastic restaurant.
bsm
07.07.07
So, we went to Mojito (a restaurant here in Louisville) last night, and first of all I must offer congratulations to Fernando. It's actually quite a feat he's pulled off, and I drove home shaking my head that something as silly as food could have been so incredible, or created such an exuberant experience. Havana Rumba was without doubt in my top 3, but I think I really went in with no expectations. We arrived around 8pm Saturday night, I thought it might be a little crowded, since it was the weekend and due to Marty's review, but the place was packed, seriously packed, somewhere around a two and a half hour wait. We sidled up to the bar for a nicely assembled mojito and gin and tonic, a bit clueless as to where to stand for a while. It wasn't too long before we snagged two bar chairs. Looking through the menu, it all looked so good, I decided to try a couple of tapas at the bar. First was the guacamole and chicharritas, which were really good. Light, crispy plantain chips to dip in avocado, lime, cilantro and red onions. Next up was Boniato Frito, sweet potato fries with a sidecar of smoked honey. Smoked honey, you say? Yes,yes,yes and how. This is serious goodness right here. I almost wept. Needless to say: incredible. Trio de hummus next, and they even found a way to infuse an ordinary dish like hummus (garbazo, black bean, and roasted pepper) with some fantastic ingredients and additions.
Let me say a word at this point about the beautiful presentations: from the dish, to the plate on which it's served, to the drink glasses, all very contemporary and just flat out cool. It was somewhere around this point that I realized that my entire dinner was going to happen at the bar, so barkeep! More, more more!
Calamares Fritos were next, and nice calamari though they are, what really set them off was the avocado lime aioli. This was the second time tonight that I actually considered the consequences of lifting the sidecar/dipping cup to my lips. In the interest of decorum I declined, with regret.
Empty plate removed, new beautiful dish arrives, it's like magic. Now landing: croquetas de yuca, a beautiful crab cake in all it's glory, with yet more of the aforementioned avocado lime aioli. You may be no Amazing Kreskin yourself, but I'm sure you won't be suprised that I found the crab cake yet another mouth watering, flavor bursting dish.
At this point, we were squarely tucked in at an hour and a half, completely happy with our good fortune to sit at the bar, and ready for espresso and a dessert, which ended up being the churros con chocolate. I regret to inform you that I only had a very little bit of this excellent dish, as we were sharing and I thought I may lose a digit if I attempted another bite.
So, we laughed, we cried, we talked to Fernando for a minute, as he was just a tiny bit busy, and ate our way through the joys of an otherwise stormy night. Congratulations guys, thanks for a fantastic restaurant.
bsm
07.07.07
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