Never use a cruelty when a joke will do in its place

I've been reading Everybody Loves Our Town in dribs and drabs as I go to sleep, or in the bathroom.

I just got on FB and it threw Jonathan Poneman at the top of the 'People You May Know' box. We have 48 friends (out of his 3200 or thereabouts) in common. 

Nope, I don't know him.

Last night was awesome, amazing, wonderful, great...I'm not sure if it's totally hit me yet. (I tend to have a delayed, if any, reaction to a lot of things.) Cait and I went to the VFW hall so I could vote, and then hit the liquor store for supplies. We started watching the results come in at my house, and then moved to her place for a bit. We got caught in a hailstorm of Biblical proportions in between. I thought a funnel cloud was going to descend on Ballard. Anyhow, we eventually ended up at Hazlewood, where they had a couple of TVs set up, and were giving out pizza from Snoose Junction next door. The place was full of revellers from the hood - the Fiore kids, 3/4ths of the Cops, Ben Shepherd (first time I'd seen that dude in forevers), Matt Harvey, and one McCain supporter. Poor sonofabitch.

We got there right as Ohio was called for Obama. And it just kept getting better. They turned the sound off for a bit before the West Coast polls closed and put on some Stevie Wonder. As people were dancing and drinking and chatting, I turned and looked at one of the TVs, which displayed a graphic showing that the election had been called for Obama. All I could do was point and started shouting "Look look look look!" The sound came back on, and the place went apeshit.

Sadly, there was no dancing in the street, but we had dancing on the sidewalk covered.

I, for the first time in a long time, am hopeful for this country.

Soooo tired.  But who needs sleep when you're having fun, right?  Plus the Spinners are playing overhead ("Could It Be I'm Falling In Love"), and that sho nuff takes the edge off.

The Rock Lottery party was a blast, but the turnout by the actual participants could have been stronger.  No matter.  Lots of good times, lots of wigs, lots of confusing the shit out of a bunch of squares at the Croc (whassup All-Over-Print-Spider-Man-Button-Down-Shirt Dude?  Never seen a man in a wig before?).  lele and I dancing to Jennifer Gentle, despite their music not being terribly dancible (it reminded me of old Pink Floyd, but with an evil troll handling lead vox).  Giving Tucker and Joanna and Tom and Chris and Angela and Emily a tour of the Residence.  Jetpack tattooing me, and then me tattooing me, then me tattooing ingotattoo. 

Little sleep afterward, but lovely nonetheless.  Nope.  Don't mind one bit.

Yesterday pretty much sucked until I got to McLeod, even though I got there too late to see everything.  Saw hella peeps there.  Found more ways how this world/state/city is too small. 

Upon reentering Ballard, I ran into Tim Seely + entourage, wherupon a whole mess of peoples went to his house and drank whatever we could muster and ate delicious party pizzas.

Man, I could really go for a burger right now.

Friday: dinner and drinks with beddove, later to be joined by the inimitable beatnikside and bohunk (and the friend who's name I've forgotten again, dammit) at the People's Pub. I deemed it to be Chemistry Set night at the People's, which called for drink experiments (i.e. Grasshoppers, Redheaded Sluts, and chilled Tuaca). Shit dog, I'm a whiskey drinker , so don't talk to me about pansy cocktails.

Saturday: Swung by Hazelwood and chatted with Drew, Keith, and Cody for a bit. Wended my way down the Ave (Ballard Ave, that is) to Hattie's, where I got into a conversation with a random guy about language families and German grammar. Later Dan Cowan insisted I see Freakwater at the Tractor, and who was I to say no? Got in for free, and got a free beer out of it. Can't say that I actually cared for Freakwater that much, but I also wasn't much in the mood for that high lonesome sound. The band itself was quite good.

Sunday: overslept, and then worked for 10 hours.

The TIG Imaginary Wedding thinger last night was a hoot. Supposedly all of the ASOW boys were on the list. Turns out only Sean was on the list - but he was too hungover to go, so I pretended to be him and got in for free anyway. veganguy and his chica and Frida all came too. And as an added bonus, original ASOW bassist Larry & his lady Tiffany were in the house. I caught the last song by Math and Physics Club, who seemed...I dunno. It was a cover, so I have no idea what they actually sound like. I somehow managed to miss Pleasurecraft, which is too bad, 'cuz they were awesome at the Guns N' Roses tribute night a while back. The Jeunes were awesome, and I think they and Key Note would play nicely together. And their bass player was hot in a tall, intimidating librarian sort of way. They were all tall. Weird. We didn't last for Tennis Pro, but KNS is playing with them in a few weeks, so we'll make up for it then.

I'm at work today to make a little extra cash, but it's so nice outside, I think I'm going to leave early. Oh, and I got here two hours later than normal. Slack attack!!

Clem Snide is the shizzle. Saw 'em Saturday night at the Croc with Anna, Elizabeth, and two guys named Mike. I'd listened to them a few times in the past, but seeing them live totally blew me away. But I'll get to that in a second.

Dear John Letters were first. Their singer, Robb Benson, used to be in a great band called the Nevada Bachelors. A looooooooong time ago, my old band (Six Day Affair) played at a now defunct bar called Mad Dogs in Greenwood (it's an Irish bar now, I think). Whoever was supposed to open for us backed out at the last minute, and somehow the Bachelors stepped in and played an awesome set. No one knew these guys from Adam at the time, but not too long after, they hooked up with Carrie Akre (of Hammerbox/Goodness fame) and started getting some higher profile gigs. They recorded two albums (I think), were poised for greatness - and then they broke up. Robb reemerged with the Dear John Letters, much in the same vein as the Bachelors, but not quite as power-poppy. Quite good, I must say.

Next: KEXP favorites The Long Winters. I had heard a few songs before, and I can't say I thought much of them. Live, they had a lot more presence and a lot more oompf. And that guy from Harvey Danger that writes for the Stranger is in it. They were good too. I couldn't really actually see them from where I was, but they sounded a'ight.

Last but not least: Clem Snide. OMFUG. A little bit country, a whole lotta other stuff. Their guitarist was a freaking monster. He only played regular guitar about half the time. The rest of the time he was playing a baritone guitar, or a euphonium, or a banjo with a violin bow. They broke out into a bit of "War Pigs" here, some "Bad Boy For Life" there, and passed a guitar out into the crowd for a prole-solo during the encore. Man alive. If they come through your town, go see them.

Other gnus: Sean came over night before last and we worked on some new shizzle. It's ok when the singer starts writing songs, but it reminds me of a joke:

What did the drummer say to get fired from his band?

"Hey guys, let's try one of my songs..."

The battle continues.

What I was going to say about the show last night: Jen and I skipped out on most of Fly Pan Am's set in favor of Indian food. We caught their last two songs, and from what Ziggy told me later, the last two songs were about the only good part.

Do Make Say Think had quite the draw. There were more people in the Paradox than I think I'd ever seen before. We copped a squat on the floor stage right (next to the man himself, DJ Riz) and were treated to about an hour's worth of the finest psych-rock Canada has to offer.

There was ample instrument switching going on within the band. The bassist also played trumpet, and guitar on a song; one guitarist played alto sax and flute, and bass on a song; the other gutarist (on a 5 string guitar, no less) played keyboards a few times; and there was another guy who split his time solely between sax and keyboards. The only constant in the band was the drummer. Well, actually, the drummers - there were two of them. They all played their parts deftly, doing a great job of recreating the sound of their records, but without sounding sterile.

A few observations: ( Warning: Muso band wanker speak ahead... )

I'd really like a shower. Ick.

Friday-Saturday: didn't go.

Sunday: got there a little ways through Modest Mouse's set. From where I was standing, the Mice certainly lived up to their name; diminuitive little specks at the far end of the stadium. At the end of the set I waded my way through the crowds and clouds of pot smoke to find Ziggy and his pals (Mike, Jesse, Karl, and two girls who left right about then). Next up was Sonic Youth, who were freaking amazing. They played a goodly amount of tunes from Murray Street, and broke out some nuggets from older records as well. For me, the hightlight of the show came during "Kool Thing"; Kim Gordon's sarcastic anti-Mariah Carey rant was absolutely hilarious and she had however many thousands of people in the stadium cracking up.

From there, Mike and Jesse and I ventured to the apartment of some friends of theirs (there's something to be said for hanging out with people you've only known for an hour or so). Beer was quickly consumed, and then it was back to the 'Shoot...

After watching some impromptu breakdancing, it was off to the Rawk Arena to see Death Cab For Cutie. They played well, for the most part. They only fucked up one song severly, and I think that may be a record for them. Overall, they were pretty snazzy.

(An aside: Zig spotted Anna over his left shoulder, up in the stands. When we were leaving, I stopped by and told her to call me.)

Next: off to the Honeyhole, and Linda's, and eventually Mike's apartment. We picked up Kat along the way, and much beer was drank (by me) and much pot was smoked (by them). By 4 AM it was lights out.

Monday: Woke up late; missed Wilco by a mile. Because of that, I had some time to kill before Maceo Parker. Got in line for the film fest. After 45 minutes of waiting in line, and an hour of short films, I ended up missing most of Mr. Parker's set, so I went and got food instead. Later I caught up with imasage, and then lostone and rockstarbob, and we enjoyed front row standing room for Blonde Redhead (or "The Blonde Redheads", as they were referred to by the ground crewman who did the outro to the set).

Went home, drank hot chocolate, tried to play guitar, fell the fuck asleep.

That's my story, and I'm stickin' to it.




*I guess I'm not obliged to do a Bumbershoot post really, but ya know...

Last night, I had the pleasure of having my socks rocked by Mission of Burma. I think they'd been saving up all their energy for the last two decades just to let it loose on their three west coast dates. I'm fairly certain that, within the space of two sets and two encores, they played through their entire discography, plus at least one new song, and a Dils cover. Sure, they're a litte more gray, a little more creased, and little more fatherly looking, but they can still put bands half their age to shame.

Silkworm, much to my chagrin, only played songs off of the last two records (save for two songs). Still, it was the first time I had heard many of those tunes live, and the first time I'd seen the band at all since their show at the Croc with Seam many eons ago. Those bastards need to move back to Seattle, despite the fact that no one here likes them.

Other things about the show: I met up with huntingtonforge before the show, and on our way to the venue, we ran into Larry and Tiffany. Larry was American School of Warsaw's original bass player. We always got along great, and have similar ideas musically. He just felt somewhat constricted within the framework of the band, so he left (amicably). Anyhoo, the four of us took in the show together (mostly...we kept getting split up and lost in the crowd). Tiffany used her womanly wiles to weasel our way* up toward the front of the stage during MoB's first set. After the show we consumed more beerths at Zak's across the street, and then ventured up to Capitol Hill, where Larry, TIff, and I stayed up till 4 AM drinking Rainier and talking music, lineage, and history. They were kind enough to put me up for the night as I had missed the last bus a long time before.

This morning, I stopped at Bauhaus for some coffee, and saw a sign up on the door about Kris Von Oy, one of the original owners. He apparently fell asleep at the wheel and crashed his car last weekend. The funeral service was yesterday. I didn't know him that well, but it is always weird when someone you know, or have met, or have some sort of familiarity with, ceases to be.

Great way to start the day, I'll tell ya.



*pardon my alliteration.