Monday, July 1
pause.
stop. rewind. rewind. stop. fast forward.
Thurs - Chinese takeout and fuunky drummer video. Clyde Stubblefield and Jabo Starks (what is this Jab'o business?) get down with Sco and Medeski and Fred Wesley; offer the invaluable advice to set up your drum kit so that all the drums are within reach. Lovably nerdy indie-guy friend visits.
Friday - the Neve cleaning is finished, the first Senerap track is finished (by late afternoon, which is to say early.) Rather than to NY I go to Dan's gig, 5 hours (from 9 to 1) in the appropriately named Limbo (bar/dj upstairs; jazz lounge downstairs, both inordinately frou-frou or shi-shi or whatever it is, with $10 desserts, etc.) Flute/electric piano/5-string slap bass/drums do George Benson, Janet Jackson, "Kiss" and "Eleanor Rigby." I eat duck salad and fish soup and creme brulee.
Saturday - out of confusion, Mami and I go to a diner in the morning. Show gets on the road about two, and we leave town with WSRN tape; stop at a deli. Two games of bumper pool at Dede's (I win one, Jesse wins one) while waiting for my father to return from his yoga workshop. Then, hurtling off into the apple, past Intrepids and the Intrepid museum. To the knit.
Matt (!) was there, no surprise, in the bar listening to Hot Rats we chat about his gig investigating crimes for Legal aid, living the life. He has plans to see the show upstairs, so after most of JBE's first set (great, with spidey, "love what's gone" and funky stress, plus an improv'd new song "don't set your hampster on fire") we snuck up to the main space.
with M's other high-school indie friends (dissin' the Strokes, diggin' the Spree) in time for:
the Danielson Famil(e/y). how to describe? they wear white doctors outfits with red hearts and their names embroidered, and nurses hats for the girls. weird-ass Christian childrens songs with ringleader Daniel's untenable squeaky scratchy voice and soothing glockenspiel from the ladies. hand motions and singalongs. two drummers. he "called on" audience members to supply verses for "Don't You Be the Judge," and I can't tell if that was real or not. gaah! "I ain't no devil thang."
the Polyphonic Spree: 10 piece choir. 13 piece band (tpt, fl, trb, vln, dr, perc, bs, pnox2, gtr, theremin, French horn + lead singer). flowing white angelic gowns (amusingly, colored hem-swaths not low enough to conceal an array of indie-sneakers, converse, adidas, etc.) big anthemic numbers about sunshine and smiling. entrance muzak "Hey Jude" singalong, and a cover of "Ride Captain Ride." spiritualized meets flaming lips meets langley schools meets sun ra meets a pops orchestra meets the heavenly choir. Impressive if nothing else. wtf. "Suicide is a shame."
after that, it's off to my third diner of the day (the Moondance, where, apparently, Kirsten Dunst works in the movie) for some late-night veggie quesadilla and cheesecake (yeah!) with a strange assortment of distant cousins and total strangers. we're late to wake up of course, and after a two-hour stint at Sam Ash in New Haven (Dan bought some software) I finally get something to eat around 3:00 - back to Reins for reubens and egg creams.
back in town but still late for the dance performance - this is my 2nd cousin Rob Bettman's Blackbird Dance Ensemble, on tour from DC. I really enjoyed the choreography, especially solos done to Frisell and Armatrading, and a ballet-suite to a Corelli concerto grosso. Ballet and modern. Party for the dansers afterwards at Barb's turtle-house (the hostess and I did a little impromptu beat-box and rap in the living room where nobody could hear us.) Hmm.
she says she knows about jokes
this time the joke is on her
stop. rewind. rewind. stop. fast forward.
Thurs - Chinese takeout and fuunky drummer video. Clyde Stubblefield and Jabo Starks (what is this Jab'o business?) get down with Sco and Medeski and Fred Wesley; offer the invaluable advice to set up your drum kit so that all the drums are within reach. Lovably nerdy indie-guy friend visits.
Friday - the Neve cleaning is finished, the first Senerap track is finished (by late afternoon, which is to say early.) Rather than to NY I go to Dan's gig, 5 hours (from 9 to 1) in the appropriately named Limbo (bar/dj upstairs; jazz lounge downstairs, both inordinately frou-frou or shi-shi or whatever it is, with $10 desserts, etc.) Flute/electric piano/5-string slap bass/drums do George Benson, Janet Jackson, "Kiss" and "Eleanor Rigby." I eat duck salad and fish soup and creme brulee.
Saturday - out of confusion, Mami and I go to a diner in the morning. Show gets on the road about two, and we leave town with WSRN tape; stop at a deli. Two games of bumper pool at Dede's (I win one, Jesse wins one) while waiting for my father to return from his yoga workshop. Then, hurtling off into the apple, past Intrepids and the Intrepid museum. To the knit.
Matt (!) was there, no surprise, in the bar listening to Hot Rats we chat about his gig investigating crimes for Legal aid, living the life. He has plans to see the show upstairs, so after most of JBE's first set (great, with spidey, "love what's gone" and funky stress, plus an improv'd new song "don't set your hampster on fire") we snuck up to the main space.
with M's other high-school indie friends (dissin' the Strokes, diggin' the Spree) in time for:
the Danielson Famil(e/y). how to describe? they wear white doctors outfits with red hearts and their names embroidered, and nurses hats for the girls. weird-ass Christian childrens songs with ringleader Daniel's untenable squeaky scratchy voice and soothing glockenspiel from the ladies. hand motions and singalongs. two drummers. he "called on" audience members to supply verses for "Don't You Be the Judge," and I can't tell if that was real or not. gaah! "I ain't no devil thang."
the Polyphonic Spree: 10 piece choir. 13 piece band (tpt, fl, trb, vln, dr, perc, bs, pnox2, gtr, theremin, French horn + lead singer). flowing white angelic gowns (amusingly, colored hem-swaths not low enough to conceal an array of indie-sneakers, converse, adidas, etc.) big anthemic numbers about sunshine and smiling. entrance muzak "Hey Jude" singalong, and a cover of "Ride Captain Ride." spiritualized meets flaming lips meets langley schools meets sun ra meets a pops orchestra meets the heavenly choir. Impressive if nothing else. wtf. "Suicide is a shame."
after that, it's off to my third diner of the day (the Moondance, where, apparently, Kirsten Dunst works in the movie) for some late-night veggie quesadilla and cheesecake (yeah!) with a strange assortment of distant cousins and total strangers. we're late to wake up of course, and after a two-hour stint at Sam Ash in New Haven (Dan bought some software) I finally get something to eat around 3:00 - back to Reins for reubens and egg creams.
back in town but still late for the dance performance - this is my 2nd cousin Rob Bettman's Blackbird Dance Ensemble, on tour from DC. I really enjoyed the choreography, especially solos done to Frisell and Armatrading, and a ballet-suite to a Corelli concerto grosso. Ballet and modern. Party for the dansers afterwards at Barb's turtle-house (the hostess and I did a little impromptu beat-box and rap in the living room where nobody could hear us.) Hmm.
she says she knows about jokes
this time the joke is on her
