December 24, 2008

Johnny Ace - So Lonely


Christmas Eve, 1954. Blues singer Johnny Ace though it would be a damn fine idea to sit down at the table and take part in a game of Russian Roulette. He was between sets at a gig in Houston at the City Auditorium. When his turn came, fear most likely got a hold of him and he played around, pointing the gun at his girlfriend. He pointed the gun at another woman in the room. Lastly, he pointed the gun at himself. Some people thought he was really murdered. They thought his record company offed him because he wanted to up his contract. Big Mama Thornton was there though. She said he pulled the trigger himself, so that's good enough for me. Put the gun to his head and did the deed and that was that.

5000 people came to his funeral.
Merry Christmas

I was reading a magazine
And thinking of a rock and roll song
The year was nineteen fiftyfour
And I hadn't been playing that long
When a man came on the radio
And this is what he said
He said I hate to break it to his fans
But Johnny Ace is dead, yeah, yeah, yeah

Well, I really wasn't
Such a Johnny Ace fan
But I felt bad alI the same
So I sent away for his photograph
And I wait untill it came
It came all the way from Texas
With a sad and sim-ple face
And they signed it on the bottom
From the Late Great Johnny Ace, yeah, yeah, yeah

It was the year of The Beatles
It was the year of The Stones
It was nineteen sixtyfour
I was living in London
With the girl from the summer be-fore

It was the year of The Beatles
It was the year of The Stones
A year after J.F.K.
We were staying up all night
And giving the days away
And the music was flowing amazing
And blowing my way

On a cold December evening
I was walking through the Christmas tide
When a stranger came up and asked me
If I'd heard John Lennon had died
And the two of us went to this bar
And we stayed to close the place
And every song we played
Was for The Late Great Johnny Ace, yeah, yeah, yeah

Paul Simon - The Late Great Johnny Ace

Lemme get this straight...

You live an entire lifetime minding your own business, living alone in the woods. You grow up to be the biggest baddest motherfucker in quite possibly the entire country, and then one day some junior redneck with a pistol (a friggin PISTOL!!!) takes you out.

Life sucks.



Here's the article in question.

Geek report April 19, 2007

I got hit by a pigeon today.
No shit. A pigeon. Well, actually, my car got hit. And not head on, mind you. I was sideswiped.
While I was parked. Seriously.
I was in traffic, on my way to work, and I was stopped just before 5th street on the north bound lane of Lamar. Just stopped. Just sitting there.
When suddenly, what can only be described as a despondent squab, swooped down and crashed beak first into my rear passenger window. POW!
Scared the ever loving shit out of me. I turned just in time to see him (or her. you just can't really tell animal sex without a phd) clawing and flapping his way up to my roof. After taking a hit like that, I can only assume he had to get his bearings. Regain his pigeon composure. I was tempted to get out and see if there was any damage to the car, but the light changed and traffic started moving again. I looked up into my rearview just in time to see the driver behind me laughing her ass off.

******

So, this week, I hit a personal milestone. I say personal, because I seriously doubt there are too many people that would be nearly as exited about this sort of thing as I would. Earlier this week, I uploaded my 100th gigabyte onto my Itunes. ONE HUNDRED FRIGGIN GIGABYTES!!! At this point, I'm currently sitting on 106.07GB and still growing. That's 19,994 files. 57 days, 16 hours and 7 minutes worth of music. Granted, thats only about 1/3 of my physical CD collection, and doesn't begin to even approach the 3000 or so LP's that I own, but I was pretty pleased as punch none the less. As a music geek, that's a figure that I could be proud of. It stood tall in the face of the casual listener that only owns enough music to fit in a tower shelf that stands in the corner next to the stereo. Surely, I thought there could only be a small percentage of people out there that could match or surpass me.

I was pretty proud (full) of myself, until I read this article today...
Will Friedwald: Owner of the worlds largest itunes collection
fucker.
849 GB | 172,150 tracks | 809.2 days
Think about those stats for a second. Over TWO YEARS worth of music.
To him, I am a slug in the sun. I am privy to a great becoming, recognizing nothing. I am an ant in the afterbirth. Before him I rightly tremble. But I owe him more than fear. I OWE HIM AWE.
Today I am nothing...

******

I drove the next two blocks or so to work. I was already running late, so I was in a bit of a rush getting my shit together as I got ready to get out of my car. I was unplugging my ipod when I heard it. scratching. clicking. shuffling.
I opened the door and stepped out. I stood up and turned toward the roof of my car.
There he was. Just coolin'. And cooing. Little mister pigeon, perfecting his electric slide. He looked more than a little dazed. The feathers on the back of his head were standing up a bit. But he was intact. No visible breaks of fractures. Mostly, he was shaken, but not stirred. I said my g'days and wished him luck. I had other things to worry about. Like work.
About an hour later, I looked out the door toward my car, and go figure, he was still hangin' out. I was starting to worry. In about an hour, I was going to have to start running my errands, and I didn't want him to still be there. Not that I minded driving around with a pigeon siren, but I thought that if he stayed on my roof when I drove away, one of two things might happen. He would get thrown from the car and fall into traffic and get hurt, or he would fly off the car at some point outside of his localized flying area and get lost. So I did the obvious thing. I went inside and grabbed a broom handle and gently convinced him that it was probably not a good idea to hang out on my roof. As I slowly swept the handle across the top of the car, he slowly shuffled over until he ran out of roof. When he took that last step off the car, he was suddenly confronted with the possibility of falling and started to flap his wings in desperation.
That did the trick. He instantly realized "Oh, yeah. I can Fly" and took off across the street and landed on the railing of the parking garage across the street. I pretty sure he was gonna be fine.

But I just can't shake how cool it would have been to have a pigeon siren.
Driving down the street, announcing my presence with authority.
-You hear that?
-Yeah, what is that?
(Coo. Coo. Coo. Coo.)
-Oh, shit! Cheeze it! It's the pigeon cops!

That would be cool...

P.S.
I just got back from a show at the Parish, and guess who I saw...
ASSBACK!
And he seemed to be walking just fine. Go figure.
I should have pushed him down the stairs just to give him that limp he always wanted.

SXSW 07

So my faulty immune system finally gave out on me today and I came home early from work. In all likelihood, I predict a recurrence of Miles Davis voice box again. Was it worth it? I dunno. But, I suppose I got stories. Since I think I'm the last one to blog about last week, I better get cracking.

Where do I start? How do I start? Slowly and at home, I suppose. Wednesday, I almost fell into an old pattern. Didn't go out, 'cos I was too tired from work. Also, the glands under my chin had started to swell up like peach pits and I knew illness was just around the corner. Staying home wasn't gonna be an option the rest of the week, so I just saved my energy.

Then came Thursday. I'll save you the minutiae, and just say that Bishop Allen fucking rules. They were the only band that I was even remotely interested in seeing all weekend long. I caught them at Birds Barbershop during the afternoon and wouldn't you know, it was the only time all weekend that I had my good camera with me.





Christian Rudder


Justin Rice









The only damn video I managed to shoot all weekend. The kids play the song that hooked me in the first place, "Corazon". Right after this, my good camera ran out of batteries, and I simply forgot to reload. I was left to the mercy of my camera phone for the rest of the weekend.

That night, after a slightly late start, Mandy and I went out and officially kicked the fest off with Micah P. Hinson at Lambert's, the historical building next to the eyesore that stands over the grave of Liberty Lunch. I'll never understand why people go to a show by quiet whispery singers and then spend the whole show talking to the person next to them. After that, it was Ghostland Observatory at La Zona Rosa. Suitably sleazy, but I was slightly disappointed that Ghostface didn't show up to duet on the mash-up "Ghostface Observatory". What Made Milwaukee Famous was next, but we only managed to stay for about half the set, before I was overwhelmed by the fact that I had been up since 6 and drunk off my ass to boot. Thank god we took a cab there and back.

Friday would be Stoogetastic, but I had to wade through a whole sea of horseshit to get there. And a good deal of it was because of this guy on the right...
who i will lovingly refer to as Assback.
See, the Stooges would be playing on the tiny stage at the store, and because of fire codes and such, the capacity of the store would be carefully monitored. To that end, a separate line was formed outside the store specifically for the Stooges show at about 4:30. At 5 til 6, the store would be emptied out and everyone in line outside would be let in. Or at least the first 300 or so. In other words, if you wanted to see the Stooges, you couldn't stay to see everyone else. That is, everyone but Assback. See, Assback had crutches, which he somehow interpreted to mean that he was eligible for special needs treatment. Dude, I've had major surgery on a femur and been ordered to keep all weight off of it. That didn't stop me from standing on the periphery of a moshpit at a Pearl Jam outdoor show with 5000 other people or fighting my way through the 2nd row of a Page/Plant show at the Erwin Center. Assback had a broken foot at worst and was looking for a loophole in procedure to go along with the chorus of tiny violins that were playin gin his head. In spite of the fact that he was told in no uncertain terms what the routine was gonna be, he still whined until SOMEONE caved and let him avoid standing in line outside. Not only did he have his cake and eat it, he had a slice of cake that should have gone to someone else. Even his girlfriend looked ashamed of him. What a sad little prick of a man. I hope his foot turns gangrenous and falls off.

As for the Stooges, see for yourself...








The best part is at the 2 minute mark when Madeline walks in through the exit and freaks the Holy Fuck Out at the fact that she just ran smack dab into Iggy Pop. I'm standing behind the counter when he walks back there, I swear. You just can't see me behind everyone. As an aside, my senior prom date made it in (Hey, Claudia). Small World. The stress of the whole day was perfectly expressed by Danny, who was running the keg...


BTW, the weirdest thing also happened earlier that afternoon. The Ice House, next door was having bands play all day, but for the most part, they were of the type that you would most likely see at a local Earth Day show or Farmer's Market. But right in the middle of it all, was none other that Charles Wright. Charles who? Charles F'n Wright, the leader of the mighty mighty 103rd Street Rhythm Band. Best known for the Soul Anthem "Express Yourself", later made famous as a sample by NWA on the song of the same name. It was kinda sad seeing him about 30 years past his height, singing to a restaurant full of people who had no fucking idea who he was, with no back up band, just an instrumental track. That didn't really matter to me, 'cos I got to see him from right up front. And can you believe it, he closed with "Express Yourself". Go figure. Because I didn't replace the juice on the camera, this was the best I could do with my camera phone...

I say, that's the bet I could do, because just after I took that shot, my phone ran out of juice too. I'd forgotten to recharge it the night before, so I couldn't get a picture with him, or of Iggy Pop standing behind my counter at work for that matter.
I did sneak this shot of Nicky Katt checking his messages, though...

After all that, I still had to work 'til close, so that was the end of SXSW fun for the day.

Saturday started with a movie. And not just any movie. Only, my most anticipated movie of 2007. "Trailer Park Boys: The Big Dirty". On the downside, since it was the only screening that I could make it too all week, Ricky Julian and Bubbles weren't there like they were at the other two screenings. On the plus side, I got to see the friggin' Trailer Park Boys movie. Trailer Park what? This is the second funniest show on TV (after The Office) but it's Canadian, so we only get it here on DVD. And the movie was every bit as funny as the show (plus it had titties. always a plus) Here's the trailer...









Afternoon music included Small Stars at Jo's Coffee and Brothers And Sisters at the same place two hours later. I had pictures, but they didn't turn out too well, so I'll spare you. Then it was home for a rest, and off again at 8 for round two.

Most of the night was spent at Eternal. Mandy wanted to see Brett Dennon, and I wanted too see Money Mark and Alexi Murdoch. Even though we had elbowed our way up front, as I had my freshly recharged camera phone, the pics weren't all that great. But that has given my license for some photoshopping. (BTW, do you still call it photoshopping if you use Corel?)


"Money Mark" Nishita. The 4th Beastie Boy.


Brett Dennon. This kid REALLY digs Paul Simon's Graceland.


Alexi Murdoch brings the Whiteface and Tangles Up In Blue. (P.S. Jen, if you're reading this, Gianna was standing back in the shadow behind the stage)

One Last Thing

Sunday was for resting. And then it was back out for one last show. Mandy's latest boycrush Paolo Nutini was taping the kickoff episode for the new season of ACL. They're shooting in HDTV and 5.1 surround now. Not that it looked any different sitting in the front row of the audience...


Cameras aren't allowed in, so I have a whole mess of stealth shots taken from under my arm.

Unfortunately, this is the only one that doesn't include Mandy's foot.


The rest all look like this...

And that was it. Half way through Saturday night, I could feel the scratch start at the back of my throat. The stage smoke at the ACL taping made it worse. This morning, the horse had parked it's cart in the back and I think it's here to stay for a while. Miles Davis, here I come.

I'll leave you with this picture of Mandy taken at the end of the whole damn thing


Cheers!

Fila Brasilia

tropicalia, Bossa Nova, Samba...
Those Brazilians just have it down!

Jorge Ben 1972






Gal Costa in a very Bjork like setting






Gilberto Gil w/ Os Mutantes






From the same show...
Caetano Veloso - Alegria, Alegria






Os Mutantes - Panis Et Circenses 1969







elis regina & tom jobim - aguas de março







Joao Gilberto - Sampa






My favorite scene from one of my favorite movies of all time:Pixote. It's kinda like if "City of God" is "Goodfellas", the "Pixote" is "Mean Streets"
roberto carlos de los pobres






And finally...
Jorge Mautner-Guzzy Muzzy






As a bonus, here's Of Montreal covering Os Mutantes - Bat Macumba

able to scale tall alleys in a single shimmy...

American Gladiators are pussies. There, I said it. They don't have anything on the superheroes from Japan. Do you want proof? Here you go...









It's there. Just click in the space above. Don't stop after the first one. It's almost ten minutes long.
BTW, the original title of the post I linked this from is "Every Japanese game show clip you see instantly becomes the best one you've ever seen."
True.

I buried Paul.

I've always been a fan of celebrity death hoaxes. From the good old fashioned urban legend (Slash killed Axl in a drunken rage back in 1988), to the out and out hoax (Adam Rich died of an overdose, cica 1991). Here's a list of some of the ones that have made the rounds most recently, all of them within this decade. The only one I remember hearing is the one about Lou Reed.

Rap star Eminem. In December 2000 news reports claimed that he was the victim of a car crash.

Suzanne Shaw of the band Hear'Say. In May 2001 the BBC reported she had been found dead in her home.

Rock legend Lou Reed. In May 2001 numerous radio stations reported he had been found dead in his apartment. Cause of death: Drug overdose.

Justin Timberlake and Britney Spears. In June 2001 a Los Angeles radio station reported that the couple had died together in a car crash (just like Eminem). It was a really bad year death-wise for Britney Spears because in October her death was reported again. Once more it was an automobile accident that did her in. In this second case a twenty-two-year-old hacker named Tim Fries managed to make it appear as if the report of her death was on CNN's website, thus adding far more credibility to the story.

Jackass star Johnny Knoxville. A notice on the internet claimed he had died "while being filmed parachuting from a biplane whilst eating a catering sized tub of Heinz baked beans, when his parachute failed to open."

Athlete Carl Lewis. In July 2003 he was reported to have been killed in a bicycle accident. The fake report was actually written by a biking enthusiast to draw attention to an abutment in a Houston park that he considered dangerous.

Michael Jackson. Supposedly committed suicide in April 2004 by "consuming more than two-dozen sleeping pills," according to an internet report.

Former British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher. A fake news story (disguised as a page from the Guardian) reported the passing of the Iron Lady. As a tribute to her, Stephen Hawking was supposedly going to speak in her voice.

Napoleon Dynamite star Jon Heder. An email rumor claimed he crashed and died while driving to Oregon. It partially read: "John Heder, lead role in Napoleon Dynamite, died of head injuries after undergoing a highway car accident two days ago. He was riding in the passenger seat on his way to Salem, Oregon with his friend Mike McHill when the driver supposedly saw a deer run in front of the car. Mike overcorrected and drove off a steep ten foot embankment after rolling three or four times."

Actor John Goodman. An obituary that circulated by email in January 2005 claimed he had collapsed from a heart attack.

American Idol anti-hero William Hung. The source of his false death report was a faux-news piece on the site Broken Newz. He was said to have OD'd from heroin, leaving a suicide note that read: "I have no reason of living... my art which is my importance to the best everybody laugh to... I make end here... goodbye world of cruel."

Actor Will Ferrell. An obituary uploaded to the wire service iNewswire in March 2006 claimed that the comedian had died in a paragliding accident "after a freak wind gush basically blew Ferrell and his companion towards a wooded area where they lost control before crashing into dense foilage."
...............................

All of these come from Museum of Hoaxes. I was directed there, while following a story about Jaleel "Urkel" White commiting suicide earlier this year. My favorite part is the suicide note that ends "Did I Do That?"

The site also had this pic of the Bin Laden family on vacation. Unfortunately those bitches killed my link, so instead, you get this bit of news.

Though I would have preferred my prediction of Will "1st Black President" Smith taking the oath of office in 2020, I will most definitely be keeping a close eye on this man.

Overshadowed by all the weather news today, he's just announced a Presidential exploratory committee, which means he's just a step away from making it official.

Does he stand a chance? He's got better odds than Hilary. If he gets the nomination, his main obstacle would probably be that duplicitous fence straddling back stabbing liar in sheep's clothing named John McCain.

2008 is gonna be ugly. I can't wait.