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Monday, May 5th, 2008
9:54 am - People coming for Origins
Hey kids,

Most of you coming to Origins this year already know it's the same weekend as Pride Weekend and the Community Festival, my favorite Columbus weekend of the year, and I know one or two of you can be dragged off for some music at Comfest, but this morning it was just announced that this is also the same weekend:

Tom Waits
Ohio Theatre
Saturday, June 28, 2008 @ 9:00 PM
Columbus, US

This theater is literally five or six blocks away from the Convention Center. Those of you who remember our epic trek to dinner on Sunday July 4th a few years back, it's connected to that building. Plan accordingly.

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Wednesday, April 16th, 2008
10:37 am - Team Cincinnati Mobilize
Real entry coming soon, there's a half-formed thing about the Whitney Biennial festering on my hard drive, along with thoughts on the Pogues reunion show I saw in NYC, the Poussin retrospective at the Met, the Fleshtones here in town last weekend, etc.

All right cats and kittens from Cincy, the galpal's close college friend has a birthday celebration on Saturday night around 7-8ish and I haven't seen Cincinnati since New Year's Eve Morning. I love Spring anywhere but I especially love it in your fine city.

We're coming down after I get off work Friday - 5ish, to get there in the 6:30-7p.m. range - and [info]hayama_sb has graciously allowed us use of his guest room on Friday night. So what are people's schedules looking like on the Cincy action tip?

I see [info]raielchan and his lady are going to the Funny Bone on the Levee on Friday night at 8:00, and [info]goofyrobo, [info]mikichan and company are going to the Funny Bone on Saturday night at 7:30.

[info]gyopi: You coming up from the South on Friday night? [info]starparty and [info]maderr, you guys work downtown, within walking distance of river stuff, yes? What's some subset of my gang of crazies feel about recreating our Hofbrauhaus dinner? We convene there
around 6:30 and eat then peel off for respective destinations? Alternately, if the non-Funny Bone going crowd wants to get away from that, what about burritos and happy hour at the Comet? Or just grilling out and drinking a beer at somebody's home, I'm not picky.

And anyone I don't see on Friday night, there's always Saturday during the day. The only key component is each of you. Drop a note, what's the haps?

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Sunday, December 16th, 2007
11:08 pm - Great weekend
If this posts twice, I apologize and I'll go back and delete one. My client decided to start sputtering and complaining. Enclosed find thoughts on the touring production of Sweeney Todd, the Beatdowns Holiday extravaganza, Margot at the Wedding and the remake of Sleuth.

his could be our final dance
This could be our very last chance
Just the sound of your voice
Wherever I may be changes everything
And then the world's right with me
-The Pogues, "London Girl"

Someone nudged me to start cross posting anything I put in my (suffering, long-neglected) LJ, apologies to the two or three of you who are friends both places.

Read more... )

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Sunday, August 26th, 2007
10:06 am - How to spend a summer night
It's good times to be had when we're living
See the beauty being where you are
Appreciate the fireflies, baby,
Just in case you never see the stars

--The Drams, "Fireflies"

First off, thanks to [info]hayama_sb for the, um, virtual 12-pack of Pepsi.

Been a minute again, we'll try to move quickly.

It's been an unbelievable year for live music, even for my not going to any of the big national festivals I went to last year (Pitchfork and Twangfest). Seeing Dan Penn, who wrote "Cry Like a Baby" and "Do Right Woman" and "I'm Your Puppet" playing those songs at the Mannerchor. Dancing until I ached all the way down to Big Sandy and Los Straitjackets ripping up Spanish language versions of great pop and soul songs from the '60s. Mary Weiss of the Shangri-Las in Cleveland, playing one of her first gigs since the '60s, with the Reigning Sound behind her. Ernst Karel and Kyle Bruckmann doing Morton Feldman's piece for Oboe and Orchestra with the orchestral sections rearranged for analog synthesizers at The Stone in lower Manhattan. And the last few weeks have only added to that list. First off, thanks to [info]princeofcairo and his lovely wife Sheila, as well as his amazing posse of friends, Josh, Leigh, Zach, Jim, Patrick, and Heather for putting me up and putting up with me in Chicago.

Chicago was amazing as always. Grinderman killed it, with Cave in a fun, relaxed mood, occasionally blowing up and a roadie then recovering and laughing at himself, spinning around, hitting organ chords with his heel like a madman Jerry Lee Lewis on "Depth Charge Ethel", playing an electric guitar version of "Ship Song" that brought the room to tears, and everything in between. Erik Friedlander's solo cello set at Elastic was also breathtaking, his new record's so warm and so dark that it conjures whole landscapes, with his attempt to juxtapose guitar fingerpicking techniques to the cello echoing Ry Cooder and flamenco and backporch guitar pulls but never letting you get too comfortable or letting you off the hook, also did a track off Maldoror and a few Zorn pieces he's recorded for an upcoming solo Masada disc. Maritime and Centro-Matic were both great at the Wicker Park fest. Hot Doug's was awesome, as were the whiskey porkchops Ken made on Friday night. Hit Delilah's and drank whiskey with my pal Gade, who it's always great to see.

Been working a lot since the Chi-town trip but still found some time to trip the light fantastic.

This gets a little long )

current music: Gemstar (Da Goldenchild) - What Yall Want Ft. J-Rock

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Sunday, July 15th, 2007
11:25 am
Calls when he's drunk and drinks
Like nobody knows where he's going
And nobody cares what he's saying
Singing like he could be crying
Leaping or lying, looking for love
To keep him from dying...

--Eleni Mandell, "Make-Out King"

We set controls for the heart of the sun
One of the ways that we show our age
And if the sun comes up, if the sun comes up
And we still don't want to stagger home?
Then it's the memory of our betters
That are keeping us on our feet
You spend the first five years trying to get with the plan
And the next five years trying to be with your friends again.

--LCD Sound System, "All My Friends"

I know, I know. It's been so long that there isn't even a way to catch up. So suffice to say, work's still keeping me hopping, the sun still rises and my heart cries out for all my friends who've recently experienced losses.

Even with skipping Twangfest this year for a combination of money and time this has been one of the most eventful summers in recent memory. Some highlights are as follows.

Some memories to keep us all smiling )

All right, I think I'm heading to the North Market then lying in the park watching some of Jim Maneri'a straight-ahead project. Then probably a walk or a nap or both. What have all of you been up to, what's been turning your cranks?

If you've got sadness on your mind
Then that's exactly what you'll find
Forget your memories, they do no good
If you don't remember what you should
When you're thirsty

--Scott Miller, "Thirsty Fingers", from Bloodshot Records' tribute to Larry Brown

current mood: cheerful
current music: Gui Boratto - Beautiful Life

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Sunday, January 21st, 2007
9:53 am - Rick's Fave Music 2006 - Live
A predicate warning to the sun:
This night advances on.

The sketchy crowd shows me drawings
They're all right, an ultimately dim and frightful waste
Now come on, honey, let's go outside
You disrupt the world's disorder just by virtue of your grace
You know, I didn't want to go
But I believe I must
As gratifying as this dust was...

-Destroyer, "Rubies"


I enjoy doing these lists because it forces me to reflect on the year past and remember how much great stuff does make it here or at least to places I can get, regardless of how much I - or anyone else in Columbus - might gripe about great shows passing us by. In fact, last year, there was so much live music I wanted to see that I bought far fewer discs than last year and so much of it was so good that this list is a top 15 instead of a top 10 (which is still probably a quarter of the actual shows I went to). And this year's shaping up great already, I've already seen Dan Penn, Joe Lally and Velcro Lewis and the local return of the motherfuckin' Tough and Lovely, with plans to catch Gunther Schuller, Ladysmith Black Mambazo, and Mary Weiss (of the Shangri-Las) with the Reigning Sound.

That said, as always, this is a public forum so feel free to give me shit, argue any of my flimsily made points, let me know what I've missed, etc.

Take Door Number Two. Go on. It's okay. )

current mood: content
current music: The Pogues - Young Ned of the Hill (Live)

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Tuesday, January 2nd, 2007
6:33 am - Happy New Year everybody
The guys are feeling good about their liquor run
The girls are kind of flirting with the setting sun
We all kind of fumbled through the jitterbug
We were all powered up on some new upper drug

And everyone was funny and everyone was pretty
And everyone was moving toward the center of the city
The dancefloor was crowded, the bathrooms were worse
We kissed in your car and we drank from your purse

--The Hold Steady, "Massive Nights"

I got my visions; I wouldn't call them dreams
With a mind in the gutter

--The Compulsive Gamblers, "Mind in the Gutter"

Another year, everybody. Another notch in the gun and most of us are still healthy, still kicking and more or less together.

Thanks to team Cincinnati for hosting me when the original plan of going to Jersey/Philly to visit the Kirsch residence fell through. Special MVPs include [info]starparty for picking me up from the airport and kissing me at midnight, [info]hayama_sb for letting me use his spare bedroom, and of course [info]goofyroobo and [info]mikichan for hosting us all at their house. I also really enjoyed meeting [info]maderr's sister, albeit briefly, rocking it with [info]gavv (I'm telling you boyo, your year this year! Year of the Gavv!), the trip to Hofbrauhouse and Southgate House with [info]raielchan et al, and the Shake It run. I've known a great many of you people for more than ten years, and it feels like home every time I come down there. I'd say you're all like family but that would make explaining some of my feelings when looking at the ladies' in the group creepy or wrong. I can't think of any group of people I'd rather drink prosecco from the bottle and laugh at bad television with.

I had a better year than I have any right to deserve. I finally got a little comfortable with the new position, only to have it throw me a series of curveballs to ensure I don't get any too comfortable, which is perfect for my temprament. The days I went home wanting to throw myself throw a window were far outnumbered by the days I wanted to high five or hug strangers were greater in number, so what else can I ask?

I'm sorry I didn't see more of you and talk to you more. But on the upside, I saw John and Marie married. I saw [info]jamesdbr and [info]roniliquidity married. [info]davemerrill and [info]dwinghy came to Columbus to visit. I saw some wonderful music. I spent time in Chicago and New York and St. Louis and Cincinnati. I saw the new Sondheim revival on Broadway, and the latest Whitney Biennial. I danced and laughed a *lot*. I kissed some beautiful women.

I feel like a lot of my friends, myself included, are in a state of transition right now, we're all suspended above the next moment or just beyond the last. This is the year to see what happens when the dice hit the felt. Thank you all, for a kind word or for listening to me or for spending time in my presence and letting me bask in yours or just for writing in your journals and letting me look at a glimpse of your life once in a while. May you all get what you're seeking or at least whatever you need in the year to come.

And now, off to work...

current mood: content
current music: Ass Ponys - Mr. Superlove

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Saturday, November 11th, 2006
11:02 am - NYC: Part the So-Far...
Good evening ladies and gentlemen and all the ships at sea. Your intrepid reporter, sequestered in an unassuming residence in Windsor Terrace, Brooklyn, with missives describing what he's thus far seen and done on vacation while my host with the most remains asleep.

Herein find descriptions/sarcasm/gushing relating to the new revival of Company, a few minutes of the Robert Smigel talk at the Museum of Television and Radio, the current exhibits at MoMA, the Met and the Guggenheim, the movies Fur and Little Children.

Read more... )

current mood: hungry
current music: None

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Tuesday, November 7th, 2006
9:55 pm
...all the poets of
exile and despair, unfit for this life, all those who cannot speak
but only sing, all those who cannot walk
who strut and spin until the waiting citizens at the bar,
aloof, judgmental, begin to sway or drum their straws
or hum, leave their seats to crowd the narrow floor
and now we are one body, sweating and foolish,
one body with its clear pathetic grace, not
lifted out of grief but dancing it, transforming
for one night this local bar, before we're turned back out
to our separate selves, to the dangerous streets and houses,
to the overwhelming drone of the living world.

--Ellen Bryant Voigt, "Dancing with Poets"

I hope, dear friends, you'll accept my humble apologies. I've neither had a spare moment in the workday to put a fully-formed thought together (and the laptop's still busted, so it's been a long summer of poems, character sketches, and filled notebooks but no stories) and frankly haven't usually had more than a few minutes at a time to even check Ye Olde Friends Page, so if I've missed some life-changing announcement, I'm sorry, I honestly missed it, I'm not ignoring you and you're in my heart, mind and words more than you know. Dig?

St. Louis weekend before last was fantastic, I and the assembled throngs (including people from 15 States, though Columbus had the largest non-STL representing body with five people not even counting Cowtown native and St. Louis transplant Heather) got to celebrate the wedding of Marie Arsenault and John Wendland. Roomed with Tom Huber, and delighted in seeing old friends like Christopher and Meshel Knaus (formerly of Nashville, now gone to Portland), Bary Mazor and Nina Melenchen (N'ville), Jamie Swedberg (Georgia), Chad Williams (Ypsilanti), Bill and Amy Silvers (I want to say Kansas City but I could be wrong on that), Cynthia Peterson and Lisa Merlin (Seattle), Jamie and Steve Kirsch (Philly/New Jersey), Jason Baldwin (Columbus, IN), the entire STL mob of course, and a variety of new faces from other aspects of their lives.

Wedding mush follows.

Read more... )

And tomorrow work at 6, a plane at 4:30 and a couple of days in New York where the plans include a talk by Robert Smigel, a performance of the new revival of Sondheim's company and some walking around in a leather jacket trying not to stare. Love to you all, I hope the fall finds you well.

Thanks for the dance
It's been hell, it's been swell, it's been fun
Thanks for all of the dances
one-two-three, one-two-three, one...

--Leonard Cohen and Anjani Thomas, "Thanks For the Dance"

current mood: thankful
current music: Art Brut - Live on WFMU

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Tuesday, August 1st, 2006
9:15 pm - The summer's almost gone, the winter's tuning up...
The memories come back empty, like their batteries are low
It feels like you just left me though it happened years ago.
They're stacking up the chairs, wiping down the bar;
I never got to tell you how beautiful you are.

--Leonard Cohen and Anjani Thomas, "Never Got to Love You"

Back again from that toddlin' town, the Lady on the Lake, Chicago; and pay no heed to the Leonard Cohen quotes, it's the sexiness of the Cohen I'm feeling not the chill of resignation.

My ostensible reason for going was the Pitchfork Music Festival on Friday and Saturday, but the real McCoy was hoisting a few and hanging out with pals I haven't seen in a while and having some laughs. And on both scores, mission accomplished. Think of the festival as a beard concealing my true love. Or the other way around, is my love art or people? And is there a way of separating the two infatuations?

Anyway...

I'm splitting this into two entries. This covers the Museum of Contemporary Art (spec. Chris Ware and Wolfgang Tillmans exhibits), the Art Institute of Chicago (spec. Posada and Drawings in Dialogue exhibits), Marah at Schuba's, Stuart Gordon's film of Mamet's play _Edmond_, Delilah's bar, The Cobra Lounge, the Innjoy, and special guest stars (i.e. hanging with pals). Next entry will be music at the festival itself.

Read more... )

current mood: giddy
current music: River City Tan Lines - Gimme Gimme Gimme

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Saturday, June 17th, 2006
1:57 pm
I did this last year and at least a couple of people were interested in seeing it again, so here's a look at the Comfest schedule, what I'm looking forward to seeing, who I'm interested in checking out, the whole nine. What I want from each of you is a comment with a band I've overlooked but need to see, if you have one. This is *the* weekend every year where I look forward to checking out bands without having to pay a cover and seeing stuff I'd otherwise overlook.

Cut for space...

Read more... )

current mood: happy
current music: Scott Miller - Freedom Was a Stranger (Live)

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Thursday, June 15th, 2006
9:29 am - You're east of East St. Louis, and the wind is making speeches...
First, while this is related to out-of-town friends and hobbyist get togethers, any Origins folks, if you'd like me to call and make a reservation for the Japanese Steak House on Friday night of Origins, just let me know how many and when? I will be unable to attend as I'll be at the Elvis Costello/Allen Toussaint concert that night (hope to hook up with folks afterwards, I'll just be around the corner) but would be more than happy to make the reservation.

You say you're gonna get your act together,
Gonna take it out on the road,
But if I don't get outta here pretty soon
My head's going to explode
Sure, I like country music,
And I love those mandolins
But right now I need a Telecaster
Through a Vibrolux, turned up to ten...

--John Hiatt, "Memphis in the Meantime"

Another Twangfest come and gone, the final chapter - or at least the end of this era of the festival - and I'm back at my desk in the real world (having tickets for Dar Williams Tuesday night and Lamb of God/Children of Bodom last night probably hasn't helped me on the whole rest thing.

In the short, I mortgaged my sanity in exchange for some memories, that kind of sweat you only seem to get in June along the Mississippi river, an upgrade on my sense of self, and the echo of sweet laughter. All of which I tucked away in whatever brain cells I failed to kill this weekend.

Since I got drawn into that circle by my local crew Matt Benz, Mark Wyatt (much missed at this year's festival, everyone talked about it) and Ed Mann, the Twangfest mob has rapidly become a group of my favorite people. People I'll travel to see - when not travelling to visit the lot of *you*, dear readers - and light up in the presence of, people who it feels like I've known forever and whom I'm honored to know. Random highlights this year included:

* Dancing to BR549 with Marie Arsenault, and watching her and John Wendland dance to Grand Champeen doing "Tracks of My Tears". Congratulations to both of them on the impending nuptials.

* Eric Wiland consistently besting me by buying me beer, I owe you about five or six, I think, the timing just never worked out.

* Sitting over hamburgers with Team Seattle, Jim Cox (who in addition to being the nicest man on the planet has possibly the best hair of anyone I know), his lovely wife Laura Levy, and the amazing Cynthia Peterson.

* Finally meeting Karen Cunningham and inadvertently eating part of her food during what we're referring to as our "Tour of Vietnam".

* Cruising through Clayton praying we wouldn't run out of gas with Kevin Fredette (whose name I think I misspelled), Carl Zimring (Dr. Z!), and Jamie Swedberg.

* Praying for rain while watching the patio-diners at Brandt's with Steve, Jamie and Chad, drinking red wine and eating some delicious tuna.

* Ed Mann on Lucero - "I didn't call them 'Loser-O' while that guy was standing there, did I?"

* Mocking bad television with roommate Bob Starker.

* Karla and her fiance, co-conspirators par excellence (about which I will say no more)

* Smilin' Jim Caliguri living up to his nickname in force.

* Trying to sing Stan Rodgers' "Northwest Passage" with Carl Wilson at 4:30 in the morning and talking about the noise scene.

* Julie DiJohn, lovely and insane as ever, regaling us with stories of her Twang trysts.

* Ken Zeiler slow-dancing with Heather in the back of the bar on Saturday night.

* Long rides and talking with Tom Huber, who recently suffered a loss but is rebounding with the kind of amazing wit and resilience he's always shown.

* Finally getting to hang with the lovely and brilliant Jamie Swedberg, and hearing enough about farm life to scare this city boy out of his mind.

* Alex Millar, looking great and never failing to hit us up with the rejoinder

* And so many others from Jim Fagan to Barry Mazor and Nina Melenchen to Bill and Amy Silvers to Heather Pyle to Steve and Cat Pick to Brad Bechtel and anyone I've forgotten. The music is fine, but it's not what keeps me coming back again and again to the scene of the crime.

Further descriptions of music follow behind the cut (to save you screens of raw text).

In summary:

Favorite set: The Dirtbombs
Close Second Tier: Mic Harrison, Glossary, Deadstring Brothers, The Sovines, Scott Miller, Grand Champeen (both sets)
Favorite meal: That Guatemalan chicken dish at that Maya cafe prior to bowling.

Read more... )

Seven o'clock, eight o'clock,
nine o'clock, ten,
You wanna go home? Why, honey, when
We may never get this chance again?
Let's party for the rest of the night

--Warren Zevon, "The Rest of the Night"

current mood: thankful
current music: Voicemail

(comment on this)

Thursday, May 4th, 2006
8:52 am
First, above all, else CONGRATULATIONS to newlyweds [info]5eh and Alex! Wish I could have been in Philly properly celebrating with all of you but there was no way two weekends off in a row was happening. I look forward to running into you maybe during the summer convention season so I can properly express my love and good wishes.

As well, belated happy birthday to [info]mrjoker!

And now, Team Columbus, I cannot do Once Upon a Time in China on Friday because - like an idiot - I didn't realize it was the same night as the Deep Focus Film Festival down at the Grand and naturally there's an Ohio or Midwest premier of something I want to see (in this case the new movie by Michael Cuesta who did L.I.E.) so I have to side with the thing I've never seen which may never again play Columbus. However, I'm still on for the Tough and Lovely show at Skully's that evening in appropriately inappropriate Cinco de Mayo fashion as it's just as easy for me to walk up there from the Grand as it would have been to walk down there from the Wex. I noticed there were luchadores on the flyer, and I know you all love luchadores.

As well, Saturday, my plan involves a movie at 5:30 also at the film festival, then walking up to join the gallery hop gang for two hours or so then breaking off to check out some bands at Cafe Bourbon Street. If you guys are still planning to end at Shisha I'd just like to point out that it is block party weekend so crowds are going to be crazy and traffic's going to be constricted.

Real entry soon, promise. Work is a wild ride right now.

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Sunday, April 23rd, 2006
12:53 pm - A 2 Hex Zone of Matrimony
I move with her lips
The dream is a night
But eternal the kiss
And slowly I come to her
Slowly we shed
The clothes of our doubting
And slowly we wed

--Leonard Cohen, "Slowly I Married Her"

Sitting at the Pare family home in Massachusettes while Roni's parents go to pick up her attendants for the trip to the airport. Wow.

Flew in Thursday night immediately after work, crashed at an Econo Lodge and met James the next morning to try on the tux. Hot. I mean, Hott with two "Ts". I looked *awesome*, it took all of a minute and a half, and we didn't need to be at the rehearsal site for over three hours. So there was time for 25 ounces of frosty Sam, a steak, hitting a Sales Tax-free Newbury Comics (picked up the new Calexico, DBT and Scott Miller records, the latter of which is by far the sexiest thing he's ever put out).

At the rehearsal site, met up with Katherine, Shannon, met Bob the Officiant (he had a certificate of solemnity approved by the state and everything) and his wife Jess, both of whom were awesome and probably spent as much time talking with me as the people I *already* knew. Also began meeting the Pare clan who rock and were kind to me way above and beyond the call of duty. Good to see James' parents again, and the extended DeBruicker family (all of whom look *exactly* like you'd expect).

Rehearsal dinner was at Pondview, a lovely upscale restaurant with -- if weather had been warmer -- paddle boats! The salmon was perfect, the hors d'oeurves were fantastic, and the group managed to kill an entire case of champagne, a case-four bottles of Chardonnay, about a case of beer.

From describing the evening later,
Bob: You know, James, I think you were at war with champagne that night, and you were *losing*.
R: I considered my time a love affair.
Bob: Yeah, an *abusive* love affair.
Katherine: Actuallly, Rich, I think you spilled some of your love affair on me.
R: Oh, if I only had a nickel...

Following this, it was out for one last night of insane wildness with James and his cousins. Particular props for his cousin Julia who not only has the softest smile and prettiest, bluest eyes I've ever seen but was more than willing to dance with me to more than one song and even continually trust me to dip her. She was an utterly charming delight, even if the restaurant/bar wasn't really set up for dancing as such.

In that same vein, bars in Haverhill, Mass, will throw you out for *nothing*. Bouncers and all! Learn from me, children, learn from me.

The next morning we went to rent the bulletproof Mercedes (no, I'm not kidding, quarter-inch bulletproof glass, automatically reinflating tires, a cell-phone built into the dash and a collection of CDs assembled entirely from reposessions). It was awesomely Dennis Lehane. Also ate some Kelly's roast beef sandwiches, justifiably world famous. Good god that was an awesome sammich.

The ceremony itself was gorgeous, the decorations looked amazing, the vows James and Roni wrote were beautiful, Shannon's matron-of-honor toast nearly made me cry (and did make James' father cry). It was stunning. And luckily, Jess' candid photos were given to the bridal party in unedited form so even the photos of me making terrible faces or chugging beers are in my possession. And the photos that look like Roni just clobbered somebody with the bouquet, usually her husband.

I was insanely honored to be invited out and everything was as close to perfect as the vagaries of fate will allow. Conversations about Doctor Who pornograpy, playwriting and all. And now, back to Columbus and reality and work.

Love to all of you,

R.

current mood: satisfied
current music: TV in the background

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Monday, April 17th, 2006
8:17 am
Barkeep says, 'This party's ending,
It won't help you to keep pretending
It'll be all right tomorrow
When you know it won't be all right tomorrow'

--Reigning Sound, "Find Me Now"

Hope everyone had a good Passover, Easter or just weekend. Mine was fantastic, by and large. Saw the family, ate enough ham that I'm working on my Buddha-like pork overdose, heard some music, caught a movie and enjoyed the beautiful, beautiful weather.

Saw Confederate States of America, which if you count alternate history under the banner of SF is the best damn science fiction movie since Brazil. Mostly because it's *about* something, and there's clearly a passion behind it. The rage is palpable and the extrapolation is really pretty solid. It opens with the George Bernard Shaw quote that "If you are going to tell people the truth, you had better make them laugh. Otherwise, they'll kill you." And there are some laughs in the movie, which is done as faux-British documentary with an amazing grasp of the style, replete with horrifying fake commercials mostly for real products which existed in the real world well after slavery frequently until the 1950s-'80s.

Caught Dawn Upshaw, the sporano, accompanied by Gilbert Kalish at the Southern Theater. Henceforth, I plan to only watch anything classical from the cheap seats, at least down there where the sound's as good as it is. I was *stunned* by the clarity and precision of her voice and how flexibly it handled different material. And the program was really, really awesome. She opened with Steven Foster's "Beautiful Child of Song" and a handful of his parlor songs, went through some of Mahler's folksong material including the song-battle between the cuckoo and the nightingale as judged by a donkey, and a suite of John Harbison's Mirabai songs. The latter was particularly great as you all know I love Sufi devotional poetry and his settings had an edgy sort of juice to them, with rhythms splintering when you don't expect it (I would have liked to have heard the Milosz songs by that composer, but I think they just premiered this year and aren't exactly repertory yet). Latter half was a piece by Goljiov (La Lua Descolorida, the colorless moon) that was a little soft but a total crowd-pleaser, a fistful of gorgeous Bartok folksong settings, and some of Wolcomb's funny, sexy hyper-theatrical Cabaret Songs.

The crowd I was sitting near, mostly students younger than me or musicians within a few years of my age, loved it as much as I did, or so it seemed. The season ticket holders down front, however, griped about the program during intermission. They seemed baffled by the choices and confused that she "didn't sing any hits, did she?" It's so good seeing someone lovely, with a classically pretty voice, dedicating herself to new material and material that's not the same Puccini, Verdi and Bizet you hear in everything vocal. I was reminded of an interview I saw with Timbaland once where he talked about writing the most avant-leaning beats and songs for Aaliyah because with her look and her very smooth, pretty voice, she could get ideas across in a way that his solo records or Missy's records would have a harder time hitting the wide audience.

Met up with [info]dklegman, [info]bzarcher, [info]felislachesis and Lisa at the Fado patio which was nice but not as food-intensive as some people needed so we moved onto Bar Louie, about which as Warren Zevon said, "I don't want to talk about it."

Assuming I'd already missed my friend Gretchen's show at the Treebar, went straight the St. James for the last 30ish minutes of the Townsmen, a beer with Starker, Mark Wyatt, Lori Benz, et al, did a shot with Todd May and enjoyed mostly covers for the conclusion of their set (including a great, loose, wasted "New Kick", a grimy metallic stomp through that Charlie Feathers song the Cramps covered I forget the name of, a wonderfully ragged "I Saw the Light" and something I'm forgetting). Then some Hound Dog's pizza with folks and including me being a complete jerk to some random guy. And now, work. And gearing up for James and Roni's wedding. And probably that John Vanderslice/Wooden Want show this evening.

current mood: busy

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Thursday, April 6th, 2006
8:00 am
First, I thought the birthday meme going around was neat and so:

Go to Wikipedia and look up your birth day (excluding the year). List three neat facts, two births and one death in your journal, including the year.

Facts:

1894 - Coxey's Army, the first significant American protest march, departs Massillon, Ohio for Washington D.C.. (I heard a remarkable number of Coxey's army jokes from my great-Grandmother even though they weren't in the country at that time)

1990 - In the Bronx, New York City, a fire at an illegal social club called "Happy Land" kills 87 people. (Come on, it's called Happy Land, you had to know there'd be trouble when you went there)

1300 - Dante descends to the Inferno in The Divine Comedy.

Births

1881 - Béla Bartók

1949 - Nick Lowe

Death

1957 - Max Ophüls

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Wednesday, April 5th, 2006
12:36 pm
First off, I'm just finding out now that Stanislaw Lem died last week? Good lord. When I stumbled on his stuff and checked it out of the library around 15 or so, it was like someone codified everything I just plain didn't care for about 99% of the SF I was reading. His work was a key touchstone for me turning a corner in my aesthetic. I wish I still knew where my copy of Microworlds was, and I'd quote from it. If you haven't read him, do so, but not Solaris. Solaris reads like the most inept novel ever probably due to being translated from another translation. Any of the Michael Karlen translations rock, though, and I don't think the man wrote a bad book.

Second, brothers and sisters I have returned from the brink of sweet exhaustion, an evening in the holy land of sound and enthusiasm. The place was that temple of cheap beer, easy company and dirty floors which is Cafe Bourbon Street. The time was last night. And the event was bone rattling magic of the first order by the aptly-named Gris-Gris.

For a Tuesday, and not starting until almost 11, everybody was out. I got to hang with my pals Sarah Yetter, Brad Caulkins, Rick Allen, Jon with the last name I can't spell, John Witzky which I probably spelled wrong, Kevin, et al. I love this town and I love going to a show without calling anybody confident there will be someone I like well enough to at least get a handshake, a hug, and an earnest "How are you?".

Locals Brainbow opened, and aside from Will on guitar I couldn't name any of the guys but I've seen at least most of them in other bands. If you're someone who digs Mogwai and Tortoise, you'll love this band. Instrumental, moody, shoegaze rock with some catchy tunes and angular rhythms that occasionally burst into a frenzy of metallic riffing. They were good, I'm not sure it's quite my thing, and I really wasn't in the mood for it last night (particularly for it lasting over 45 minutes) but I'd definitely give them another swing.

Brian Graze went on next, and I'd never really heard of him except that he'd apparently been in the Brian Jonestown Massacre of whom I've heard, but never actually heard much of their music. It was great. Backed by the Gris Gris on bass, guitar, drums and keys with the addition of a second drummer playing a floor tom, hi-hat and percussion, the songs were catchy, the rhythms had some swing to them (particularly a bizarre galloping Latin number that had a young lady just behind me at the bar shouting "Cha cha cha!" at the end) and the lyrics were good. I could have lived without him standing atop the keyboard and singing "Happy Birthday" off-key to someone in his band, but that was probably residual flashback irritation from the awful George Jones concert I saw lo those many moons ago.

Gris Gris went on last and killed, as always. Great songs, tough rhythmic guitar playing, and an organ that oozes and gnaws at the sound and your perceptions like you're Steve McQueen and it's the Blob. Psychedelic music the way it's meant to be, weird and mean and disorienting and sad. Addicted to finding the darkest kinds of magic in daily life. And here I sit, at work, exhausted, ready to go see a movie at the Wexner Center right after I get off. I believe chicken wings are in order beforehand. Oh yes.

Also, Columbusites, I saw the Wex is showing Once Upon a Time in China on May 5th. I don't think I've ever seen it on the big screen if anyone ends up being free and down for a movie that night. Just putting a bug in your collective ears.

Love to all of you, I've got some tax accounting to go through with a stethoscope and a lockpick.

current mood: groggy

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Monday, April 3rd, 2006
7:57 am
At the end of the road there ain't nothing but fear
Just a big old room with a big old mirror
Amd the man in the mirror, his hair's turning grey,
And his hands begin to shake in a funny kind of way.
He knows everything you bring forth will save your soul
And everything denied will condemn you to the hole.
With his hand on his heart, he picks up his pen
He goes searching for the place where the dream begins

--Tom Russell, "Where the Dream Begins"

Didn't make it to the Reacharounds on Friday. Worked way too late, then very nearly started falling asleep at happy hour (is it really still happy hour if you get there between 8 and 9 at night?). I've grown lame with age, I'll cop to that. Similarly, no game night tonight for me because I've literally got stuff booked each night, either concert tickets, a lecture or a film series for Tuesday-Friday. On the up side, it's very much spring which is making my heart glad after the long grey blur of the last five months.

Drank a toast to Buck Owens, naturally, on Friday night at the bar with Ed. One of the best songwriters, guitarists and bandleaders in American popular music and the kind of distinctive vocal stylist you could pick out at a hundred yards on a thirft-store radio through a heat-fog of static.

Also recently passed, Jackie McLean, an alto sax player with one of the most beautiful tones and the greatest sense of rhythm of anyone in the bop (hard-, post- or otherwise) solar system. Famous for making a fool out of Bird once on the bandstand, for the early '50s work with Miles and especially those late '50s and early '60s records as he was coming back into the light from a battle with heroin, working with Mingus and Art Blakey and later at the front of the signature Blue Note movement. When you hear someone playing bop alto, it's as much Jackie they're going for as anyone, and they never quite get there.

Also, the percussionist Don Alias. From Miles' Bitches' Brew and Joni's Shadows and Light and countless other documents of the search for truth and beauty. No one ever sounded better playing percussion behind Joni Mitchell and I think most of you know my love for Joni extends to me owning or at least having owned at one time everything I could get my hands on. Much like either of the other two, if you don't know you better ask somebody.

Saturday night found me looking to shake off some ennui through the magic of sad songs. I don't think I'd seen the singer-songwriter Tom Russell perform since [info]azhriaz and I went a number of years ago. And I don't think I'd ever before been to the Mannerchor except for something involving [info]ghandiavelli though I recognized both the bartenders (what does that tell you). But his new record's great, I wasn't feeling super-social and a tall cool glass of citrusy Paulaner didn't sound half-bad. Odds are pretty good if I hadn't gone there I would have ended up making fast friends while watching basketball somewhere, and who needs that?

Russell's general right-hand man Andrew Hardin was off the road for a while after "a couple of surgeries", so Michael Martin from the San Antonio band The Infidels was along for the ride as accompanist. He played Spanish guitar and mandolin and played both beautifully, as well as singing harmonies. It was nice hearing Russell not rely so much on the usual standards you'd expect at any of his shows: there was no "Gallo del Cielo", no "Angel of Lyon" (he specifically said he wouldn't play that without Hardin when someone requested it), no "Outbound Plane", no "Haley's Comet. We got a large helping of the last four records and a few older tracks.

They came out with a few verses of Leonard Cohen's "Tower of Song", which Russell did on the EP accompanying the new album and where Cohen seemed to have sort of a jaunty, sardonic take on the material, as much in love with the song as artifice, as construct, Russell does it as a heartbroken statement of purpose. A wail against the futility of life, the tower is what he's committed to and where he's committed. This is emphasized by his changing of the line "I said to Hank Williams / 'How lonely does it get?' / Hank Williams hasn't answered me yet / But I hear him coughing / All night long / A hundred floors above me / In the tower of song" to "But I hear hear him moaning, / 'Lord, lord,' all night long". Coughing has the grounding of ugliness and could be read as disdain. Moaning retains the romance of mystery. And only one ever leaves a pool of grey-white ick on the floor.

Another cover on the EP also deserves special mention, Emmylou Harris' "Red Dirt Girl", title track of the album she wrote all of herself. Emmylou is one of my favorite voices but she can tend to, as my pal Mark put it, "Slur like a drunken sailor". It was interesting hearing a song of hers with every lyric articulated so precisely, "No one knows exactly when she started to skid / Only twenty seven and she had five kids / Could've been the whiskey / Could've been the pills / Could've been the dreams / She was trying to kill", done live with a bouncing rhythm and every line slamming into you like a hot nail.

By the end of the night I couldn't process any other music, though I did heed the call of Aeryn Musick to hit up Blazer's for a nightcap, and bumped into Erin which was awesome. Sunday saw Find Me Guilty which was an amusing little movie but made worse because I saw it right after Frederick Wiseman's completely harrowing documentary from the '70s Juvenile Court. Good lord.

Time for me to be heading on home, methinks. Love to all of you.

current mood: tired

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Monday, March 27th, 2006
5:10 pm
Don't it always seem to be
The truth that raises doubts?
Well the truth is, tonight,
I truly want you
But I'll still slip away somehow

--Richard Buckner, "Jewelbomb"


Great, great weekend. And what's shaping up to be a loooong work day. Thanks very much to [info]ghandiavelli and [info]jamesdbr for the birthday phone calls and for [info]dklegman, [info]bzarcher and posse for coming out to celebrate with me along with Holman, Mike Leavitt and Leslie Lindly, Ed Mann and Amy Watson, Matt and Lori Benz, Bob Starker, Big Steve, Blue, Dave Gibbs, special out of town guest-stars STL Heather and Baltimore Ken, and a handful of other people (apparently including folks from work who showed up early and left before I arrived, to my chagrin).

Started Friday night off with Switalski after work at Fado for my daily free pint -- a stronger man would actually go every day, I'm letting free beer just slip through my fingers but more than two or three days a week and I start to feel really run down and bored -- and three or four besides. After some extended beer-fueled discussion of The Tempest and Flannery O'Connor, I met up with a gang of former co-workers one of whom was celebrating a birthday at Bar Louie for a couple of martinis, flirting with everything in sight and staggering into a cab for stop number three.

Had a going away party for another former Collections warrior at Frog Bear and Wild Boar of all places, but after one beer and a celebratory shot I could not take the size of the crowd, their prices or their inane talk any longer. I had a mission in mind for which tickets had been purchased *months* ago but how could I have blown off a birthday party or a gathering for someone leaving the state?

A brisk eight block walk to Little Brother's to sober me up and the Silver Jews had already taken the stage when I walked in the door. Six-piece band, with Berman and two guitarists, his wife Cassie on bass, a keyboardist and a drummer I didn't recognize (the Pavement guy played skins on a couple of songs, sadly it wasn't Tim Barnes who's played on most of the records, like I'd hoped). It was a strange thing walking into a sold-out show at Little Brothers at 11:15 to find the headliner already on stage, and stranger still to see so many under-21s at this show.

The set was beautiful, songbook and all. I walked in right as they were tearing into "Smith and Jones Forever" which they followed with "Slow Education", "When God was young / He made the wind and the sun / And since then / It's been a slow education" as the drums roll into origami thunderbolts and the bass takes its languid pace and *yanks* the rhythm tight for the vocals to darken "And you've got that one idea again / The one about dying / Oh, oh, oh, I'm lightning / Oh, oh, oh, I'm rain..."

It's a weird thing on a Friday night in a half-scuzzy rock and roll club to see a group of people so willing to be drawn together by wistfulness. The woman standing next to me was literally hugging herself. People around the audience had these huge, goofy grins on their faces. I don't think I saw one person walk past me to get a beer during the entire hour-plus set. A balding guy in glasses fronting a band that looks like a college English department (with the possible exception of the bassist decked out in a black velvet dress with brilliantly colored green-red-and-gold trim in sort of a country crooner look and with some great hair) and the audience was just spell-bound.

They hit much of the catalog, going back to at least The Natural Bridge record and took everything on with a bounce and a low-key fire. Rian Murphy from Drag City was in attendance -- or at least crossed off on the guest list -- and had to have been proud of this spectacle. It rocked more than I expected and it was more flexible musically than I expected. Strangely perfect and perfectly strange for a Friday night.

Saturday went to see the Dave Holland Octet at Weigel hall with my pal AJ. First, Holland did a set of duos with percussionist Trilok Gurtu, mostly Holland's compositions but a couple by Gurtu and at least one by a third party, with ample room for improv. They maintained eye contact for much of the set and it was a beautiful collision of tones and textures, not nearly the beat-oriented exercise some bass/drums duets -- even the great ones -- can devolve into (Hamid Drake/William Parker comes to mind). Tiny little explosions and riffs, a succession of smooth licks grows prickly then relaxes just as fast, some lovely arco playing over the inky darkness of tabla fills and the ecstatic spiritual sonar of traditional Indian vocalizing.

The Octet was a lovely middle ground between the Quintet and the big band, keeping three saxes but only one trumpet, trombone, vibes/mariba, bass and drums. New drummer since the last time I saw him, Nate Smith, took me a minute to get used to. He hits harder than Kilson ever seemed to but within a song or two I got on the same wavelength he was on and realized it rocked in a way Holland's groups hadn't previously. The kick and snare were more prominent and the grooves a little more pronounced without getting boring. Antonio Hart on alto and flute is still a wonder, STeve Nelson on vibes and marimba still shoulders a lot of the weight as a lead instrument and plays with the most gorgeous, delicate touch like glowing lanterns in the air or shards of light in a cloud. Robin Eubanks keeps the trombone fat and swinging, Chris Potter's the first line of saxophone defense, and I was completely lit up by bari sax Gary Symylman (most of these names are misspelled, blame dashing this off in fits and starts across a workday while trying to give myself a break from making tens of thousands of dollars balance on a spreadsheet or waiting for imaged documents to pull up), they used the bari almost for sweetening. Instead of straight rhythmic underpinnnings or to serrate the music with a bluesy edge, the baritone played leads frequently and often played in a very melodic, charming playful fashion. He could rock the low Carney style if he needed to on a particular song but he generally wasn't employed in that way.

It was amazing and I practically danced all the way to my friend's car then into the St. James Tavern. I invited my pal along but he demurred saying he needed to go to the rehearsal space, set up his drums, and cry.

Urgh, I need to draft a letter.

current mood: busy
current music: Sweet silence with the coworkers gone home

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Saturday, March 18th, 2006
6:55 am - And Whitney has stormy eyeeees... (Museums, Part the 3)
Avoided going out on amateur night (even my daily free pint at Fado was not dragging me out to fight those friggin' crowds, and too much family stuff to do today). Figure no time like the present to get back to these recaps, only a couple more posts, I promise.

Crazy business this, this life we live in --
Can't complain about the time we're given --
With so little to be sure of in this world,
We had a moment. A marvelous moment!

--Stephen Sondheim, "With So Little to be Sure Of"

First up, hit the Guggenheim for the David Smith retrospective. His work still doesn't do anything for me. I respect that he was a steelworker who brought that level of craft to his work, I admire the whole American stick-to-it-iveness of it but it just doesn't move me. Seeing it in the context of other pieces arranged in a timeline (the best thing about the Guggenheim, it forces you to experience the exhibition in a certain direction) didn't change that. Maybe I'm missing some sort of historical context which would make it click, but I still think his stuff's a big ol' "eh."

The Whitney Biennial I found more troubling, though it had a lot more stuff I really loved. And thoughts about that run longer, so we cut away from the bloodshed

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current mood: awake
current music: WFMU - Irene Trudel

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