Where the streets have no name...

I have played in bands for a long time. I have had the pleasure of playing across the U.S. and parts of Canada. Some shows were always great (thanks Milwaukee), some shows were surprisingly fun (Elko, NV), and then there are the crazy ones.

 I am looking at you Paw Paw, Michigan.

I played a show in Kent, Ohio and besides someone asking if we had a keyboard amp, before the show the “promoter” asked us to help him clear out what seemed like 50 old bicycles out of the club. There was also the show in Kirksville, Missouri when we arrived back at the punk house we were staying at and found much of the furniture on the roof. This was also the place with a broken toilet. Anyway, I digress; the point is that usually the weird shows or crazy stories surrounding them are not usually where I lived.

Last night we were on the bill of a new place. The flyer indicated that there were going to be multiple stages and food. Tickets were being sold on a website and the communications from the promoter seemed to indicated promise to a good show.

When I drove up to the unmarked building I could tell it was a dump. I don’t mean graffiti on the walls or scary bathrooms, I mean like a dump.

There were three rooms with filthy white carpet that were where the musicians were supposed to perform. The DJ room had a table; the “acoustic” room had a PA that one would use for calling out Bingo, and the “rock” room well… Here are some photos.

Off the rock room was a smaller room with a two kids and a dog watching TV. There was a woman wandering around who seemed to be on speed and a dude with a bunch of keys who put up a banner outside with the name of the club.

There was no PA (see photo) but an amp with a microphone plugged into it. Don’t worry it was not too loud, because there was no power on the stage. No one really talked to us until 30 minutes after they were suppose to open the doors.

One of the bands packed up and left and we followed suit. As we were leaving a guy with some set times on a piece of paper was connecting extension cords to get power to the amp.

On the way back to my vehicle, I saw a dude getting a handy Joe in his car. 

Rock and roll. (Photos by Stingray Barbie)

Let it Bee

Voice of the Beehive? Every heard of them?
I really liked their record when it came out (actually, it was one of the first compact discs I purchased) and I have found that over the 20 plus years since "Let it Bee" was released I come back to it every once and a while and rock it out.
At the time, I thought of them as a less edgy Mary's Danish, but now I view them as a band that created some really good pop songs and just because they had two female leads there should have been no comparison. Erica!
Whatever, I didn't even know what a musicologist was then...
As I have mentioned before in my posts I struggle to stay hep to what the kids are listening to these days and when I find something that I like, I usually purchase it.
"I Say Nothing," one of the songs on the "Let it Bee" record is a pip and I think that if I had to point to a tune that I used as songwriting inspiration it would be on the list.
I can sound cool and say that Slint, early Sebadoh, and the Throwing Muses were my influences and granted they were part of my daily play lists, but they were not what made me pick up a pen and paper or my guitar.

Well. Maybe Sebadoh.

Super Awesome: It's time to bring this ship into the shore. And t...

Super Awesome: It's time to bring this ship into the shore. And t...: In 9th grade I hung out with a friend who loved music as much as I did. Yes, we are still friends, though I don't see her much. You know...

It's time to bring this ship into the shore. And throw away the oars, forever...

In 9th grade I hung out with a friend who loved music as much as I did. Yes, we are still friends, though I don't see her much. You know, time, kids, distance, work, and all the rest of that kind of crap.
Anyway!
I would often stay at her house on Saturday nights. There was a youth group at her mom's church and I would go with her to events. I think I "went out," with someone from it too. Rodney? Sorry, I am not a hundred percent sure that was his name. I probably saw him 4 times and talked to him on the phone.
ANYWAY!
One time my friend and I memorized the song "Can't Fight this Feeling," by REO Speedwagon and "performed," it for the group. I mock played piano (with a real piano) and my friend lip-synced into microphone. It was quite something, I am sure. At the climax of the song I even stood up and joined her for the repeats of the final chorus. It is no wonder I caught the eye of a young man at the group.
We also on another occasion did the "I lost my contact lens," prank to see how many people outside a movie theater would help us look for it.
Yep, crazy junior high nights.
I remembered this because I am really into REO's lyrics right now.
That guy was bumming out over relationships. A lot.

Also, what is up with the record "You Can Tune a Piano, but You Can't Tuna Fish?"
It was released in 1978 and was definitely before the band opted for the softer side of rock, because some of the tracks are smokin'. Yes, smokin'.

The wheels on the bus go round and round.

I have been riding the bus since I was a kid. My grandmother used to take me all over on the RTD.
I remember it took 3 buses to get to Burbank (her friend Betty lived there) and it was no big deal.

Public transportation can be full of characters. On the current line I use to go to work there has been a homeless woman who ba'd us (I saw a little bit of her vajay too), a crazy guy pee all over the back row of the bus, a fist fight, and a dude negotiating how much he should pay to ride "2 blocks."
Did I mention these events all happened before 8am?

There is always a little bit of crazy on public transportation and I am totally okay with it. Except...

M likes riding the bus. I think she feels liberated because she doesn't have to strapped in a car seat. She is usually a great rider. She likes to look out the windows and tell me about the vehicles, have some Goldfish crackers, and on rare occasions she will talk to the bus drivers.

Yesterday was not a good bus day. Apparently, the schedules had changed, which made us late. Strike one.
I walked with M on my shoulders to a different stop to pass the time. Strike two.
On the second bus (when I take M to school, we ride two buses and then I catch a third to go to work) a dude was talking into his cell phone like a reality t.v. star about "fucking up the bitch," and beating some guy's ass and M got scared. He was practically yelling into the phone and since he was a large fellow, no one, including the driver said anything. Strike three.

When we got off the bus M told me that she did not want to take that bus anymore. Poor thing.
I have the luxury of borrowing my mom's car from time to time, so when we go to school tomorrow she will not have to ride the bus.

I want to make sure that the next bus experience we have will be positive. Weekends are a little quieter, so maybe we will go somewhere on Saturday.

I guess I can be lucky that I don't have to take the 22 Fillmore everyday. Right?

Time has told me, you’re a rare, rare find a troubled cure, for a troubled mind...

I have rediscovered Nick Drake. Though I did not jump on the N-Drake bandwagon when the Volkswagen commercial came out (it was about 3 months earlier when I got into Jeff Buckley) I did go through a definite "malaise faze," whilst listening to him.
I think that downtown Long Beach is kind of like a Nick Drake song. There is an under current of complexity and a celebration of being flawed. I like downtown LB in the morning. I ride my bike to work and I like the view I get of it waking up. There is the food line at the Baptist church, people walking their dogs, folks changing into work clothes at the bike station (oops, that is me), and the clean Long Beach people power washing the sidewalks on Promenade. Ol' Drakey makes for a nice soundtrack.
On a completely different note, I think that I have been out of grad school long enough. I am going to read a book every other week. I will make sure that they are all NOT non-fiction, or library related.
Any suggestions for good fiction? Mysteries in particular.

There is no vacancy when you're empty...

I found out yesterday that Tom Mallon died. For those of you who do not know who he was besides being a great musician, he was also a sound engineer, and producer in San Francisco who offered professional services at affordable prices. This is how I met him.
I have been lucky enough to have worked with some really great engineers in the Bay Area: Kevin Army, Andy Ernst, Ryan Massey, and Greg Freeman. However, Tom Mallon is the one, I believe, who showed me how to record. He always had the band  play together in the same room, when the take was not-so-great he would just tell us to try it again, and after every take he would say into the headphones, "tune."
It had been years since I had seen him (ran into him randomly at a Peet's Coffee like 10 years ago) and it was not much more then hi, how are you?
The band mates that I worked with during the Tom Mallon recording sessions understand how important he was to not only the SF music scene, but to the us personally. The first time I came into his studio to record a 7'inch, I admit I was a little cocky, but after working with him on a full album, I was humbled and a much better player. The band  was silly, but professional and I am glad to say that we made him laugh. Granted it was probably at our expense.
A friend of mine told me that he was sick a few months ago. My thoughts and sympathies go out to his family and friends.

Now that we've perfected the art of love
Now all the lights shine on me and misery
My good friend misery

You can be cured by a single touch
You can get up and walk away
Anything that you say

The drive of the road again
'cause I'll be your only friend
Right before we touch the ground
The night asleep, loving sound
Sweet loving sound

"Asleep" of the album "Engine," American Music Club, 1987.