Bonn Voy-ajee

Well, after a grueling two-day week (hey, it was grueling), I'm leaving tomorrow for a 10-day vacation. Going back east to visit friends in New Brunswick and family on P.E.I.

Gonna miss the big Stones SARS-stock show (not that I would have gone anyway). Hope everyone has fun, and no one gets hurt.

While I'm gone, I'll leave you all with this to look at (thanks Mike).

Fit to be tie-dyed

Well, Hillside was an absolute blast! Got to Guelph Friday afternoon and spent a fabulous three-day weekend listening to great music, eating yummy food and enjoying the great outdoors on a tiny island in a man-made lake. We camped at Elora Gorge, which is just about 15 minutes down the road. It rained on Saturday morning, but that didn't stop us. Came prepared with rainwear for the fest and an awning for the campsite. No prob. But it cleared up by early afternoon and the weather from then on was just about perfect.

I couldn't even begin to talk about highlights. Nathan Wiley. Sarah Harmer. Buck 65. Jim Bryson. The Fembots. The Brothers Cosmoline. Broken Social Scene. Chris Brown & Kate Fenner. Stacey Earle & Mark Stuart. They were all great.

Some of the finest moments were found in the side stages, under the canvas big-top tents where musical mixing and matching ruled the day. One session, titled "Close to You", featured a loose conglomeration of folks including Chris Brown, members of The Dears, Metric, Broken Social Scene (Leslie Feist and, I think, Jason Collett), who started out jamming on a loose theme, led by Chris Brown's clavinet-like keys, which turned out to be a very, um... freely defined version of the aforesaid Carpenters song. It would chug along and change direction and mutate, depending on which player felt like taking the reins. Then it would fall apart and almost disintegrateóplayers would leave and others would take their placeóbefore someone would pick up a shattered piece of the jam and toss it up in the air again, reviving the madness. This went on for at least 20 minutes. Same song. It was fun.

Then there was the Sunday session which threw together The Rheostatics and members of a group from Chad called H'Sao. I can't even begin to say what that was like, other than that it was wonderful and uplifting.

But the best part of Hillside is just the vibe. There's a certain amount of neo-hippy stuff, to be sure. Drum circles. Healing tents. Arts and crafts. But beyond that, or maybe stemming from that, there's just a real palpable sense of acceptance, and the awareness that you're enjoying a lovely time with a lot of other people who appreciate great, mostly independent music. Hillside has a spirit unto itself. There are people of all ages, families, little kids, aging hippies, folksters, neo-hippies, indie-music youngsters. Oh, and this year was the 20th anniversary and it was being filmed for a documentary. Maybe you'll see me there!

Major kudos to the organizers for pulling off another special Hillside weekend.

Wanted?

I don't know if you're familiar with Craigslist, but it's like a classifieds web page with local sites for most major North American cities. I've been using it recently to keep track of items for sale, events, jobs, apartments for rent, etc. Sometimes you see an ad that is miscategorized or distasteful, and you can flag it. If enough members flag the same ad, the admin people can remove it from the site. I've flagged a couple that were dubious.

I'm not sure what to think of this one. It appeared under the "For Sale" category:

potentially brilliant caucasian baby (unborn) - $99000
Reply to: anon-14087004@craigslist.org
Date: 2003-07-27, 9:21AM

Undecided whether or not to have a baby, not quite 1 month pregnant. If you have the money but are unable to have kids I may consider giving up my baby. Considering abortion right now. Religous fanatics please do not respond. Serious replies only.

Is this legal? I suppose there are private adoptions, aren't there? Is it tasteless? Is it ethical? I found it quite shocking, but should I? I mean, this kind of thing happens all the timeóbabies being given up for adoption, and rich, childless couples buying unwanted babies. Maybe it's because it appeared between classified ads for health supplements and furniture. It just leaves my head spinning.

"We are stardust..."

Off to Guelph tomorrow for three days of camping and music at the Hillside Festival. Should be a blast.

Three days, man! Three days!

When Dull isn't Dull

Thanks, Heather, for passing along a link to The Dullest Blog In The World. Hi-larious.

Say It Ain't So!

The indie music cognoscenti over at Glorious Noise are rightfully in a snitóa stunned, disbelieving kind of snitóover the news that the latest band to enlist the services of the production team The Matrix is... The Mooney Suzuki!

It was bad enough that Liz Phair had four of the fourteen songs on her new album written and produced by the Matrix, the team responsible for Avril Lavigne's "Sk8ter Boi" and "Complicated." But now Glorious Noise has discovered that one of our favorite rock and roll combos, the Mooney Suzuki, is currently recording with the Matrix as well! Please, someone tell us this is not true. That this is just some kind of internet rumor. Or at least tell us that once they hear the results, everyone will realize it was a ridiculous idea and scrap the tracks...

Noooooo! Not The Mooney! Don't turn The Mooney Suzukiópossibly the most incredible live rock íní roll band I've ever seen [see archived post from NxNE 2 years ago]óinto bland radio alt-rock.

Can no one escape the Matrix?

Who Has Seen The Wind?

This is almost kind of spooky. I mentioned the Neil Young bio I was readingó"Shakey" by Jimmy McDonough. And earlier I blogged about how I first started getting into Neil's music, and one specific occasion when I saw him and Crazy Horse performing "Like A Hurricane" on late night TV. I quote:

I switched on the small black-and-white TV to see if anything interesting was on Friday Night Videos. And there was. Neil and Crazy Horse. Live footage of them performing "Like A Hurricane". I've never seen this footage since. Sometimes I wonder if I was hallucinating. Neil had really long, straight hair, and as he wailed away on Old Black, his black Les Paul, his hair was blown back from his face by a powerful fan.
And I was blown away. I sat transfixed on the floor in front of the TV, drinking it all in.... If I was already a fan, this experience branded me for good. It sewed a Crazy Horse patch on my soul.

Well, it looks like McDonough had a similar experience in his nascent Neil-fandom. From "Shakey", page 494:

"'Like A Hurricane' is one of those songs that defines an era. 'Rock is about a micro-moment,' said writer Richard Meltzer. 'It's not even about a yearóit's about, like, a day. These songs are almost time-coded with a date on them. Rock does not feel separate from its time, which I don't feel about jazz, classical, any other shit. It was disposable stuff, and whatever these people did to make themselves important in the eyes of eternity, the stuff only works if it got under your skin in the moment. I hear it and smell the day I heard it.'
I know what Meltzer's talking about. Hearing 'Hurricane,' I can smell the pastóin particular, a woozy night at a friend's house. This gal I was obsessed with had just shown up. She had torn down from South Bend to Indianapolis in a green í76 Grand Prix hijacked from her oblivious mother. We met in my friend's living room, Midnight Special blasting out of the TV. Wolfman Jack announced, 'NEIL YOUNG!' in that garbage-can voice of his, and on popped a live clip of Young and the Horse flailing away at 'Hurricane.'
Standing in the blast of a wind machine, Young looked more simian than human, the band barely visible. The whole thing was so dark and murky it was like peering into a dirty aquarium. It didn't look like the rest of the The Midnight Special. I'll tell yaóit looked real. You could almost feel the storm. We stood in the darkened room, eyes riveted to the glowing TV. Once it ended, we two young lovers waltzed out into the cool, dark summer air, hopped into the Grand Prix and blasted down the highway, headed for a cheap hotel. I had a dame I was crazy about and she was crazy about meówe felt as invincible as gods. Of course, it all went to hell in a handbag, but for a moment there it seemed like anything was possible, and 'Like A Hurricane' was the soundtrack fueling our dimestore dreams."

I left the Meltzer stuff in because I thought it was interesting context. But that's a pretty interesting parallel experience, huh? Well, except for the "dame" and all that. I guess it wasn't Friday Night Videos, but The Midnight Special that I tuned in. Makes more sense. Nice to know I wasn't hallucinating.

Coughiní, Not Coffin

Looks like I got my blog comments back. Blogger.com has recently overhauled their services, so I had to get new code from the YACCS people, who supply the comments feature. Doing that screwed up my template a bit, but I think I got it back to the way it was.

Can't really post a lot tonight, as I'm floating along on a nice cough-syrup buzz, after sleeping most of the evening on the couch. Don't worry, it's not SARS. I wanted to post about the Neil Young bio I'm presently readingó"Shakey" by Jimmy McDonoughówhich I'm really quite immersed in. Quite a feat, since I've read two or three other Neil biosóyou'd think it'd be like running over same old ground. Not so. McDonough's benefits from being much more in-depth, and also from the fact that he was actually able to sit down with Neil and interview him, a coup most of the other bios weren't able to achieve. It's a good read. McDonough's a fan, and he writes with a real appreciation of the music and the artist, but he doesn't gloss over any of Young's foibles or shortcomings. Highly recommended.

Seems I ended up posting about it after all.

As I type this, there's a gang of racoons outside the window scampering around on the fence and the big tree. I have the window open, screen in place, and was standing there (I'm in the basement, the window at ground level) trying to "connect" with the little furry varmints. I started playing my guitar, and they seemed to scamper closer, or maybe farther awayóhard to tell, as it's too dark to see them unless they're on top of the fence, silhouetted against the skyóand then it sounded like one of them fell off the fence into a big pile of sticks that leans in the corner where the fence meets the house. Made quite a racket.

Then I thought...stage-diving?

I swear.

No Comments

Seems my comments have been not telling me when people have been leaving comments. Just says '0'. I thought it was kind of quiet. Here I thought people were ignoring my posts, and people leaving comments probably thought I was ignoring their comments. I'll look into it.

How's My Preaching?

Remember in school how you used to relish tormenting the substitute teacher? Seems like it's the same thing for substitute preachers. And just like in school, there's always someone (who shall remain nameless) who goes a little too far.

Fine Bouquet, No Smudging

Next time you have a dinner party, and you want to impress your guests, leave the best bubbly in the cellar and break out a carton of the í03 Epson.

"Would monsieur care to smell zee carrrtrrridge?"