Movin on up

*I have not proofed this, and will do so later*

So,

I write this in a bare room (save my bag and my bike), with a borowed wifi conection (ah appartment living!). This past week has proved the edict "That which does not kill us makes us stronger." I had two crisies back to back, and then the process of moving. Which technically I haven't started yet. First, we had auditions for my friend Kylos' trailer shoot. He's doing this to use in grant proposals and backer meetings, so that he might shoot the full length of a screenplay he wrote. Ironically enough, (and even more ironic is how every other audition anecdote goes exactly like this), all of the actresses that we saw were a little, well, lacking. However Kylos did show an interest in the barista, who had nothing to do with the auditions, or acting in general (It goes without saying that these auditions were at the Warehouse). After some coaxing, I got my coffee slinging friend to come up and read. And whadaya know, she fit the bill. So that was the last piece of the pie, and we were all set to shoot for the weekend.

On the flipside, we started the last few rehearsals for the Beckett radio play that I'm directing. And after some spotty e-mails, the character of Music did not show up. I e-mailed him again, and still nothing. After night two with no one, both the cast and I felt we could go no further, so I canned the next night and called some other people I knew. The crapy thing about the person who was playing music is that he's kind of a friend of mine. I think he's a great guy, an awesome performer, and a genous musician. Now I haven't lost any faith in him, but it's always frustrating when someone you know let's you down. This is a big deal for me, and I'm also a little nervous about directing again. However, I did find other musicians to fill the roll, who are equally as good. They (or one of them with music from both) are supposed to come tomorow night, so we can finally get the ball rolling. I'm very excited, but I'll also feel better once this one is in the can.

Back to the first story (this will make sense later), I got a very profesional, but panicked voice mail from my friend Kylos on Wed. (the night I finally decided to cancell rehearsal, and look for a new Music) saying that my friend who had agreed to play the female lead in the trailer had dropped out. This was just about the last thing I needed to hear. We were both making a mad dash to find a solution to this since we were slated to shoot on Friday. I called my friend to figure out what was going on, and to try and convince her that the right thing to do was to follow through with her agreement. I literaly used the term "we're fucked" since that was the truth. Her explanations were her explanations, and there was, in the end, nothing I could do to persuade her. (We had re-scheduled the shooting to fit her schedule.) At that point, between my two crisies, I was just about ready to try my hand at noose tying. However, once again, sincronicity landed at my feet. I literally walked out of the cafe after work, and ran into a friend of my, who would be perfect, and showed interest. Of course it would be several days of spotty communication before the deal was sealed.

So about that weekend shoot.......It was a blast. My friend was better than perfect, and everyone else was too. We met early Saturday in a bar at 8:00 a.m., which I found a little disorienting. The first hour was just setting up and figuring out how things were going to look. I ate bagels, and traded smart ass remarks with the rest of the cast and crew. Finally, wethe first shot rolling, and it was like clockwork from then on. We were still waiting for the lead actress to come, but I had told her 9:00 anyway. The funny thing was that no-one really knew if we had anyone until she physically arived. I finally got a phone call, and went out to fetch her. You would have thought I was bringing in the gall who invented the vegan dog; so much applause and hollering. From here on out, we knew that we were actually going to do this thing. We got the next couple of scenes going, and finally put her in one. It totally clicked, and we cried tears of joy. We got done at that location, and took a luch break before the next. Of course that was supposed to be in a park, and not with the inclimate weather that had suddenly set in. We did a mad dash to find a fill in spot, and when we got there the rain had subsided. Go figure. So we lethargically set up for th next scene. When we were finished it was a bright and sunny day, and as such the Los decided that we needed to go to the original site, and re-shoot the scene there. We got through it twice, and the bamafied batteries in the camera kicked the bucket. So that was that; day one, in the can. Today was a much easier day. I got up and lazily pedalled up to bruch. After that I went accross the street to the next shooting location. Parking was a nightmare, things had been left behind, and the lead actress hadn't seen the script yet. By the time we got rolling we had an hour and a half to shoot and leave. You could feel the stress in the air. But not only did we do it, we did it well. I was amazed how quickly we got in there and did the job right. So once again we took a break and got some food. Okay so the break lasted a little longer than anticipated. The half the talent fell asleep (okay one of two), and the rest of us watched tv. When she came to we were ready to shoot the last two scenes, the first of which was a bedroom scene that was about....well....making out. I suppose this should have been hot since she's very attractive, but it just felt like shooting another scene. After that Kylos filmed the "dead naked bloody in a bathtub" scene, which sounded very strange from the other room. And that was that. We were done. I don't know why I can't spend every weekend doing this (instead of working at ANOTHER cafe). I cannot wait to see the finished product.

So onto the last dillema, moving. That girl that dropped out of the trailer three days before the shoot? Yeah, that was my new roomate. However, it's the same situation as with my other friend, just a let down. Getting her to answer her phone calls was abit of a struggle, and a little panicky since she had the keys. The other problem was finding a vehicle to move in. She was using the guys she seeing's van, and I thought I would be able to use that as well. However since I heard little from her for most of the weekend, that was a no go. Once again, FORTUNATELLY, I ran into my amazing friend Rusty on Saturday night, who said that he would bring his bands van around Monday night, and give me a hand. So here I am, in my new room. Still beaming from the great weekend. Releived and nervous about my full rehearsal tomorow, and very, very, very happy to move into a new place. Here's to hoping that this is a trend.

The surest way to stop posting on your blog...

Is to start a real one;

I know.

I know, I know, I know at this point I don't even deserve this thing. I have horribly abused my privilege. If there was a social services for bloggs I would not even get a day in court to argue my case (But I may be in court for several charges of neglect).

So, there I've said sorry, and really what's done is done.

Onto the nonsense:

So what have I been up to in the past three years since my last post? Well summer is over thank god. I truly think that there is a direct connection between my depression, and the season of the burning sun. Fall is where I start to feel human again. I know that most of this is due to the fact that with the fall, theatre season gets going again, but I also feel a certain magic in the air at this time of the year. And in particular with this season, I have a lot to feel good about. I have the whole year worked out from here until June. I'm directing a short Beckett radio play as a podcast for the DC Beckett fest., I'm acting and doing lighting design for the Skriker for Forum, then I'm acting in King Lear for WSC, and finally I'm acting in Macbeth (YES I SAID IT: MACBETH MACBETH MACBETH!!! GET OVER IT!!!!!) So, while we still aren't busting down walls of convention, and kicking the crutches out from under the stilted, big budget focused, marketing oriented, "deadly" theatre creating scene that dominates far too much of the land in the District, I am at least working on with some great people on some interesting projects. If all goes well it will be a great year that could lead to bigger and better things.

The same cannot be said for the Warehouse Next Door. Yes, it's official the warehouse as we know it is soon going to shuffle off this mortal coil. Though the music venue as a whole is not going to die I fear everyday that it will not live up to it's previous glory. Here is abit of the backstory, and a little more information. Roughly six months ago our bosses met with each member of the WND individually to broach the subject of moving it from it's current home to the building between that space and the cafe. We all hinted that this might not be the best idea. The acoustics are, to put it mildly, not so good, the space is very small, and finally it just isn't the room that people all over the country have been used to coming to and playing in for the last three years. We scrunched our eyes shut, crossed our fingers, and held our breath. After a week or so.....nothing. We thought we had dodged the bullet, and that would be that. Oh what little naive wrongards we were. Six months later, out of nowhere, the deal was done; I had sent one last pleading e-mail, and was asked again to meet with them (in Disneyworld the meeting would have gone something like this,"Okay, we admit it, you're right. Keeping the integrity of the space is the only way to ensure long-term success. It won't be easy, but we've gone ahead and agreed to your idea to use the time and money that would go towards the change over into making the space better. And we've finally agreed to hire you as the full time space manager and band booker. Now let's get down to business.") I was ready with my arguments to fire off in the name of the Warehouse. "It cost a thousand dollars last month just to run the air conditioning." * * *
And with that I had nothing. Don't get me wrong, kids had agreed to help; they were all gung ho about doing benefits. It was hard to explain to them that while two hundred dollars from a great night is most appreciated, it would in no way shape or form begin to put a dent in the tens of thousands of dollars worth of losses that we've accrued EACH year for the past three years. I am, for the record, not happy about this, and I still smell a certain door in the wind. However, I can at least applaud the Rupperts for keeping the music venue. And though I had threatened to quit should this take place, at the end of the day I just couldn't imagine not being able to set up shows (mostly on my terms, for whoever I wanted, and always always always all ages). So let's look at the future. It's true, the space will not be as large as the Warehouse space we have now, but they are knocking out walls to make more room. They are also getting rid of the seating that is in there now, since we won't need it. My two big sticking points for this change is that we have to have as much space as possible for people coming to see the show, and that we MUST put some sort of warm acoustic paneling in the space. I will try my damnedest to keep as much of the sound quality in the new space as we had in the old. Next, we can't do as nearly as many punk/metal/hardcore shows anymore. But this would have happened anyway, since we need to do more "normal" shows to increase income. I'd rather do about one awesome, aggressive show a week, than not do any shows period. I sadly won't be able to do many random shows for area metal bands anymore, but you know, if Unholy Grave comes back then it's on. We are going to start doing dj nights as well. Smaller Saint Ex style nights in the cafe, and larger Black Cat style nights in the space. That way we could even have a show in the new WND and dj's in the cafe. (I mean c'mon anyone that knows me knows I can't even begin to lie about not liking dj nights.) The biggest change will be that the new entrance will be through the cafe. They're going to knock a hole in the wall somewhere, and make that the new way into the space. This also means that we will not have a bar specific to the Warehouse (if any of you are familiar, Emily is leaving and this makes the whole world cry just a little. It really won't be the same without her.) The cafe bar will now also serve as the music bar. Well that's about all I can say for now. The change is taking place at the beginning of November, and I don't have an eta on the new space yet. All I can do for the time being is take a break from booking, be ready for what's to come, and try not to cry. Even though we still going to be here, I want to thank every band that played the original space, everyone one that came to shows (for sadly there were not enough of you), and mostly everyone that ever worked or helped out there.

Now back to the trivial.

I recently got a new record player. My family was nice enough, about a year and half ago, to buy me a turntable for my birthday. With all their good intentions they had no real idea of what to look for, so what I received was tantamount to what a record player might look like if radio shack manufactured it. Don't get me wrong, at the time I was thrilled, and I put that poor plastic horse to work. Unfortunately that was the one thing the instruction manual forgot to put on the "never" list. It lasted about a year, then became cantankerous, and finally threw in the towel all together. In the six months that followed I was without a way to listen to my beloved vinyl. Which was not to say that I stopped collecting records during that time; on the contrary my lust just increased. So much so that I finally reached my breaking point. I think it was when my parents found my long lost record collection from college (a time when I didn't even have access to a record player, but still insisted on hobbling a paltry collection together.) So I did what I always do in times like this, spent hours on the internet agonizing over which one to buy. Every now and then I'd go to the Technics page and just cry. I knew that had to find something affordable, but I still wanted a dj turntable with direct drive. This pickle cast me to the land of Gemini's, Stanton's, and Numark's, which is what I ended up getting in the end. A Numark Direct Drive, battle turntable. Which I later found out meant,"huge buttons everywhere, and a deck large enough to act as a flotation device." I also realized that my tonka turntable had the one thing this device didn't: an internal amp. Yes, you too can sit in the privacy of your own home listening to music at a level only a dog can hear, lightly floating over a deafening hum. I could have cried. Finally, two weeks later I had my very own wee pre-amp, and was back in the game. And here's what I learned about records and music since then:

Burning Witch rules. Period.
Why do I only own one Venom album?
As my collection of Unholy Grave records increases it only helps me realize that I don't have enough Unholy Grave records.
Underprivileged Nation was better than your sorry screamo band (and they were real punx too!)
We are the people who would like you to know that if you can't see your vision you have nowhere to go. But don't fret this is why we called and this is our chant' the ones who make a difference can dance, dance, dance....
I don't know which is better, the First Two Years album, or Teaching Revenge.
I still think Envy was better live last time than their new album, but who can beat a double colored vinyl limited release?
Late night impulse buys of limited release Pink Razors albums are always a good idea.
Lemuria doesn't play in DC nearly enough.
And Finally, To Live a Lie Records is the best record label in the world, and I will fist fight you if you disagree (oh wait, this excludes any Common Enemy releases. Yes, we finally got those ceiling tiles replaced)



Finally, I'm moving into a new place. I cannot tell you what a good idea this is. When you have a dream that you get into a fight with one of your roommates, and when you wake up you want to start hitting them to feel that joy again, you know it's time to move on. I'm only going to have one roommate now, and however crazy we both are it's at least parallel to the point where we should have few problems. After about two weeks of hard searching we finally found a great, large, two bedroom apartment, with hardwood floors. The only problem? It's in Iceland (read: "Petworth") I now have to live with the fact that it will take me two weeks to bike to anyplace that I need to be. (Note: it now takes me less than ten minutes to bike to Sparkys and the Black Cat from where I live). The two trade offs are the great price, and Christina promising to hook me up with hot ladies if I agreed to this. Considering the later I think that's fair enough. We move in in a week and a half, so it's all going down soon. Whatever happens, I know a change will do me good.

I suppose that's all I have for now, we'll see if I post again in the next six months........

Where you at dog!?:

Anyone intersted in my social calander? No? Me either!
Here are some places where I will be this week:

Thurs. 8/10:

The Warehouse-

Fight Amputation
Stifling
Arcadius
Mika Miko
Problems


Fri. 8/11:

The Warehouse-

Din Glorius
Hallway Monitors
The Opposite Sex

Sat. 8/12

*SIGH* Probably the Black Cat-

Mousecrap


Sun. 8/13

? H street?

Okay really this is just a ploy to get people to come out to the Warehouse....so come already!

A "real" blog

So, I've been feeling the need to write alot of useless crap lately, and as much as I adore my loving fanbase on Myspace I can't fight the urge to have another site designated solely to filling up with more useless crap.


I go a little like this: I'm in my late twenties, but I look like I'm twelve. Consequently, considering how the rest of the world has always treated me, my actions fall somewhere between the age of 12 and 28. Oh well, what can you do. Recently my life itself has been the central concern of all of my neurosees. More specifically, what am I doing with my life? The idea is to work in "the arts," which is why I moved to DC (indirectly from Mississippi, btw) in the first place. In the past three years I have gone from newbie, to slug, to frustrated wreck. Not only am I simply not living the life I want to, but for now I don't even know what that life is. I was many things but at present, I am primarily 1) an actor, and 2) a barista. Now the acting part is certainly one of my aspirations, and recently I have gotten that going again. However the service industry is not anything I aspire to. Though my acting skills do help keep me from tossing searing hot coffee into the faces of about 90% of the people I deal with on a daily basis.

I do imagine that if I was happy with the other aspects of my life, making ends meet hawking hot beverages would be just dandy. But it isn't. It seems to be that I want more. I want to be doing more than this. I would love to get up everyday, and help with creative projects. My problem isn't that normally I want to do specific jobs that I can't get, it's that I want to be involved with specific projects that might not have positions that I am qualified for. The idea is that I will do whatever needs to get done, so long as the overall is important. In the adult world, nine times out of ten, people won't hire someone just because they are reeeelly intetested in what you are doing.

The second problem is this: I am, to say the least, not a very organized person. But the good news is that I realize this and "now more than ever" am trying to do something about it. From calendars to self help books I'm trying, inspite of my best efforts, to get my shit together. I still have a long way to go, but I feel that slowly progress is being had. I also need to find some sort of behavioral therapy for phoneaphobia. (And maybe one for reading and responding to e-mails. But once again, I am trying to address the problem.)

I also book for a local indie music venue. Maybe not for much longer, but in the interum, I've been writing about it alot.

Okay, I don't think anyone needs to hear anymore than that so I'll drop a quick fun-fact check list, and then re-post some of my bolgs from that other place.

Fun-Facts:

1. Even in my late twenties I am still sXe (read "straight edge")
2. I am vegan The scary angry kind: xVx (read....well, you get it.)
3. I'm a damn dirty "punk" who listens to all sorts of grating music
4. I really like vinyl
5. I'm pretty into urban biking
6. That's about enough of that, here are some previous blogs:

Band Happenings

Just a few sad band anecdotes for the week, in sequential order I guess.

First, I am absolutely over "scene," and all the components thereof. About a week ago, we had a nice four-band bill at the Warehouse. It was a good mix of hard bands including two touring bands, who were just doing a weekend or so. The opening band was a two-man drum and bass duo (no, not like that, the instruments.). Attendance has been low lately, so everyone was hoping that people would roll up two support a couple of solid bands on the road. And to everyone's relief they did. There was a solid crowd of about 30-40 people who actually came on time. We only thought the night could get better from there. Now let's go back to that opener. It just so happens that one of the two guys in that band is very rapped up in the 14th-18th street scene. Being fairly humble and well rounded it's not as though he buys into it, but it is very much there. So his maiden set launches to an enthusiastic throng, and goes off well received with few hitches. At that point we were all patting ourselves on the back while the smoking exodus ensued. I helped the next band get set up, and we all waited for everyone to funnel back inside for the rest of the show. Only they didn't. Curiosity piqued, I wandered out myself. There was no one. Everyone had been there to see the first band, and didn't really feel like the rest of the groups were worth their time. Everyone else played for the other bands plus about five people. It was infuriating. Look I want people to support shows more than anyone, but if that is your attitude, don't come. We don't need that kind of shallow see and be scene at the Warehouse. That's not who we are, that's not what we do. At what point in your life does going out not have anything to do with a good time, but instead is replaced by making to all the right places at all the right times over the course of an evening? Clearly they don't even care about the guy they came to see since he spent the rest of the night really embarrassed, and feeling like an asshole. I suppose when I see certain faces at the Warehouse I should realize that the night is going to have nothing to do with a love of music, and everything to do with post-high-school-pseudo-popularity.

Also, it has been a bitch of a summer putting bills together, and getting a good crowd. Bar-none, Sunday was the worst show I've ever put on. I was contacted about a month or so after other bands had put in requests to do a show in Aug. I can't quite remember why, but something in the e-mail convinced me to go ahead and green light this one. I immediately thought about other bands who would work well on the bill, and sent them requests to play. The first set of e-mails rendered nothing. So I went back to the drawing board, and realized I didn't have many options. A lot of bands broke up this past year, and their new projects weren't off the ground yet. Between me the band's booker we wracked our brains out tying to put it together. There were countless let downs and false leads. Finally, at the last minute, I got a well-liked band who was already playing the Warehouse in the same week to hop on. Finally the person on the other end found a band who had actually asked her if they could play. We only had a week until the day of they show, but it was better than nothing. Sadly, it all goes downhill from here. The day of the show I received a phone call from the local band saying that one of them was sick, and they would not be able to play. Shit. I carried the bad news to the space, and started to set up for the show. The touring band finally got there, took the bad news well, and started to set up. Things were running a little behind, so we were all ready for a late start. The band went to eat while we waited for the other group, and the people to arrive. After a while it started to get late, very late...........to the point where the show should have started. The first band hadnt gotten back yet, but it didn't matter since the second band hadn't arrived yet, nor had anyone else had come. Finally the band got back, the second band was a no show, and one person had come to see the show. It was the guy putting the up for the night. They played for the staff +1, and we all tried to act enthusiastic for their out of state band practice. I bought a shirt, and a CD. I mean hey, they were actually a good band. Not that anyone in DC would know. None of the staff took their pay that night, and I went home feeling an absolutely hopeless loss.

This one is just a little thing that set me off, but I think it makes sense in the context of the other two. Last night I had a small three-band bill that I was prepared to be intimate. The first group had set up what they called their "little sound studio," and had asked me when they should go on. I told them I would let them know, and that I was absolutely all right with holding for a while in hopes that more people would come. Out of nowhere comes this voice, I can only be here for another twenty of thirty minutes." This guy was apparently a friend of theirs, and so I said what the heck let's go head and get started. I mean I'd rather let this guy see some of his friends set than wait for a few more people who might not be so into it. A minute later, slow waves of ambient sound came flowing from the stage. I was really getting into it when all of the sudden something jerked me out of my trance. It was a group of three people obnoxiously yammerring away at the bar. As if they weren't in a place where there were about ten people quietly watching two guys produce currents of subtle sound. Then I realized that one of the ringleaders of this party crashing movement was the very guy who complained that we needed to go ahead and start since he would have to leave soon. Yet there he was, back to the stage, straining to talk over the "background music" about condos, skiing, and parking tickets. Maybe it was my mood, maybe it was my tired irritability, but I just wanted to deck him and scream,"HEY ASSHOLE! SOME OF US ARE TYING TO ENJOY THE SHOW!!" Finally he left, as he had promised, and the rest of us were able to get back into the music. I just don't begin to understand people like that.

Finally I should note that there might be big changes at the Warehouse soon. I can't say what, but I may not be part of it if this goes through. Even though it is my boss' decision, it all boils down to lack of support. Yes, there are many things wrong with how the Warehouse operates, but at the end of the day, the bands still came, and they still wanted people to see them. Although benefits could help, at this point I imagine the financial needs to be more in the thousands, if not tens of thousands range. So if anyone knows to how t acquire large sums of money for arts/music community spaces feel free to let me know. Part of me feels like maybe it could be time to move on, but a lot of me doesn't want to walk away from this.

Couple 'o' things
Current mood: Listening to The Rentals

Okay, first let me say that I've felt really great for the last couple of days. However, I have to remind myself that this is what always happend. I can't just sit back and say,"Boy am I glad to have finally gotten past that depression stuff." Because I know that in maybe a month or so I'll be right back to,"Boo-hoo, I totally hate myself; I'm totally a worthless human being. Yadda yadda yadda.." I will, for the time being, enjoy this upswing.

I've been working alot this week. In fact, thanks to a scheduling malfunction, I worked a thirteen and a half hour shift on Mon. Add to this the fact that three months ago I thought it would be a great idea to book about four shows every week in Aug. Whew!

So back to the cafe. Thursday was a blitzkreig of customers. We were slammed over and over again. This was, by the by, a shift I agreed to pick up to cover what would have been another scheduling malfunction. What a favor it was. Okay here is the point of this story (No-it's not "I hate work."). At one point a couple of people came in and all ordered a tuna melt and a double machiato. Then another person ordered a tuna melt and a double machiato. Then another, and finally a little over ten people ordered this same meal. They also kept comming back and adding on bottles of water ("okay one bottle of water. What? Okay five bottles of water."), and Odwalla, etc. So I finally had to ask,"Who are you guys?" To which I was told,"Oh, we're on tour," which was of course the answer to my question. In turn I pressed the envelope just a bit further. "Oh? And what band are you in?" And finally I got,"Oh, we're A Silver Mt. Zion." I told her I thought that was cool, and then prayed that all fifty (or so it felt) were done ordering five bottles of water, and five more etc's. That's it, that's the punch line.

Next, speaking of bands in the city, we had a couple last night that went through a very strange situation. They took off to go get food down 7th in Honkietown (read Chinatown), and then decided to go back past the Warehouse in the opposite direction. They got about three blocks up when they were stopped by some police. They were met with the greeting,"Do you think you guys should be in this place?" (The place that's the direction of where I live?) "I mean what are you boys up to this evening." I'm not sure what the response was but I'm sure it was something along the lines of a polite "What the fuck?" Then one officer tossed out,"You know what a peckerhead is?" To which one of the band replied,"No, I guess not." "Yeah, you do. You know what a pecker head is." was shot back at him. Another of the guys said,"Well I think I know what a peckerhead is." The cop said,"Yeah, you know. White power stuff." This is where the needle screeched across the record for the band. "What?", said one of the beareded, short haired party,"We aren't white suppremesists!" The officers simply would not believe that they weren't some sort of Mr. Clean lookin', cherry red boot sportin', Fred Perry buyin', Skrewdriver fan club motherfuckers. Finally protect and serve gave the offering that they could go that way, but at the very least they would have bottles thrown at them. It's good to know that with all the race riots going on in DC right now, that the scholarly researched, fast acting, on point, intellectual protect and serve whose sallary my tax dollars pay so that I can make $15,000 a year working my ass off, really dig deep to understand the subcultures that might cause civil strife. Honestly though, more than angered I am deeply moved by laughter at this little tale.

Dan Deacon is a genius. I cannot express this fact enough. The fact that this guy is not playing sold out shows to thousands (which I would admitingly hate) dumbfounds me. I always forget that when he plays the Warehouse things always go wrong (every show, just the Warehouse, not kiddin'.) So his cd player is broken, and finally we agree that he will use the rack mounted house player. He starts another one of his fifteen minute explanation, thirty second countdowns that everyone has to join in on. This one included being bored and watching tv for a few seconds, then finding your hand gushing blood and being really into it for a few seconds, then being dissiiusioned like when your a kid and your parents tell you that they are renovating a room for a new sibling and then really it's just that they are renting out the room to some guy that is mean to you when they aren't around, and finally, as usual, ending with sassy, sassy, sassy. So we all get into the countdown, acting out the bits as we say sream the numbers, and finally, when we explode with one and the music starts, the cd player skips. Dan stops and we all scream. So we try putting the lost and found clothes under it as shock absorbers. No dice. We put it on a seperate platform. Nothing. Finally Dan has someone hold the cd player for the duration of the show (only dan could get someone to do that.) Next he discovered that the digital screen on the player was broken. Consequently he could see what track it was playing, and therefore what song he was going to do. He began calling it Mr. DJ, and was forced to have a totally random setlist. Next something went wrong with the amps, and finally Dan's vocal fx petal started shorting out. During one of these emergencies he got every one to do "Biggle Hat was Ice-Cream Time(Card Shark Nose Nose)" with him, and it was an amazing moment of crowd participation. Then he went on to jam out more spastic dance songs, so everyone could lose their shit. (I know! And in DC too!) Finally he reached the end fully utilizing his lightbuld/strobing green skull light toggle. We collapsed in a heap of sweaty, wheezing funk. (Oh, and there was nudity...anyway....) Dan has a new cd out that every person in america needs to own. Dan Deacon is a genius.

Finally let me conclude with this: Sometimes we all do favors for people. Favors like letting a nice guy you know do a metal show. You are more than happy, and you do like metal. Then you find out that on that same night, in that same town, The Rentals are playing a reunion show. Since I am so confused, frustrated, and forlorn with my "love life" right now, I could use a little "Please let that be you!"

Okay, that' it. I have not reviewed this for errors, nor have I learned to spell. (Maybe someone can give me lessons.