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!
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
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:
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.
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.
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